posted on 25 Sep 2015

The Heart Goes Last  by Margaret Atwood

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I’ve tried hard not to put any plot spoilers into this review because the enjoyment of the book rests on the unfolding of a pretty complex plot which needs to surprise the reader.

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I’ve been a long-term fan of Margaret Atwood’s novel writing because of her ability to write a fantastic blend of storytelling, literary merit and provocative ideas. Her new book, The Heart Goes Last, contains all of these elements but, I fear, not blended in an entirely harmonious way. The book is the result of what was essentially an experiment in epublishing – almost being constructed as it went along and published on-line in bite-sized lumps – and this re-edited book version feels a bit like it’s sewn together from related but separate parts.

I settled quite comfortably into the first third of the book which describes an America laid waste by the next collapse of capitalism. Sam and Charmaine are victims of this now familiar economic bust – Sam has lost his job and his pride, Charmaine is moving from job to job and using bar work to make what little money they have. They live in their, not too fragrant, car and are constantly harassed by marauding gangs of thieves and perverts. Atwood is just great at this kind of stuff and her portrait is compelling; I was completely convinced by this portion of the book and I was looking forward to a classic Atwood dystopia.

Then something odd starts to happen and it took me a little while to work out what was bothering me – and then I realised : Atwood was intent on turning the book into a black comedy adventure romp.

Sam and Charmaine sign up for a radical social experiment which promises to solve their homelessness problem and can best be described as a prison time-share option. This scheme involves the creation of hermetically-sealed communities where no contact is allowed with the outside world and where those who have signed up are never allowed to leave. Atwood gives us plenty of hints that all is not well and casually drops into the story the fact that Charmaine has been allocated to administering ‘procedures’ – which turns out to be............................no, no spoilers here.

Suddenly the plot spirals into what I can only describe as Carl Hiaasen territory – a cast of bizarre characters, creepy Messiahs, Elvis impersonators, Marilyn Monroe clones and women needing full face transplants play out an increasingly unlikely and convoluted, map-cap sex comedy as Sam and Charmaine seek to escape from their crazy entrapment.

Amongst all this mayhem the book is just about all kept on the rails by Atwood’s skill as a writer – I suspect that someone with less ability and experience would have found this juggernaut of a romp running off the road well before it could be drawn to any sort of sensible conclusion.

Ultimately however I’m not sure what we learn from this journey and I had the distinct feeling of a great embryonic idea being lost in whimsy. As a satire it has a pretty blunt edge and the surreal nature of the plot was constantly undermined for me by my unwillingness to suspend my disbelief. Perhaps most damagingly, the thriller aspect of the story simply didn’t thrill and by the end I’d pretty much lost any interest in what might happen to Sam and Charmaine in the future because I simply didn’t believe in their existence.

 

Terry Potter

September 2015