posted on 18 Oct 2015

The Prison Book Club by Ann Walmsley

Walmsley is a Canadian journalist who spent some time living in London and, during her stay, found herself the victim of a traumatic mugging. The result of the attack was a kind of post-traumatic shock that left her questioning the basic decency of humanity. After she returned to her native Toronto she was asked by a friend to take part in her new project - a prison-based reading club - and this became the genesis what is an essentially big-hearted book.

Walmsley was initially concerned that, still haunted by her own experience, she would not be able to cope with having to be in close proximity to offenders who may have violent backgrounds. Reluctantly at first she goes along and is soon drawn into what can only be described as a community. The group of male inmates that her friend co-ordinates are physically intimidating, big and raw with plenty of tattoos and there is always a sense of simmering, pent-up frustration and even violence in their manner. But ultimately they channel their aggression into their fierce perspectives on the books they are given to read.

It is an extraordinary tale of the latent power of books, reading and story-making to change the lives and perspectives of people even in the most unpromising circumstances. I was especially struck by the way in which the prisoners engaged with the novelist Lawrence Hill, author of The Book of Negroes. Not only did they deeply respect him as a writer, they showed a real and acute understanding of his writing and his characters - their enthusiasm was so infectious that Hill returned to see them more than once.

Walmsley effectively follows six of the long term book club participants and she gives them a writing journal to keep - extracts from the journals are cleverly used and inter-woven throughout the book. This, I think, was one of the more skillful elements of her style but there are, for me, too many rather mechanical moments in the book. The structure relies rather too heavily on recounting the reaction to the books as they are read by the group - it's an obvious framework to adopt but it can become a bit too predictable and makes some parts of the book a bit plodding.

It is, however, the views of the prisoners and their take on the relevance of the books to their own lives that are the diamonds in the text. Their perceptions are often sharp but never less than passionately held and if Walmsley wanted evidence that humanity, even damaged humanity, can find truth and beauty in the thoughts and ideas of others she certainly found plenty of it here.

Not a great book and not great writing but none of that matters too much because at its heart is a truly great idea -  the ultimately redemptive power of fiction and its capacity to build empathy. This is a book that will lift your soul if you think books are important.

Chris Grayling MP, you should read this book. Perhaps you will finally understand why banning books for prisoners was the act of a lunk-head.

 

Terry Potter

October 2015