Gathering
the Water explores a remote Northern valley in the weeks before it is flooded
forever. It reads like an allegory; a water
board employee dips into the enclosed lives of the inhabitants, having neither
the power to help them nor the ability to influence his shadowy employers. His meticulous reports are ignored; he is told
to abridge them and he duly fabricates them and immerses himself in the brooding
landscape. The image of a rising tide,
an unstoppable flood, insinuates itself throughout the novel. Some stories of the landscape which have been
buried underground are revealed as the water level rises. We sense Mr Weightman’s increasing sympathy
with the villagers and the dialogue reveals the gulf that separates him from
the inhabitants. The novel works both as
a portrait of Victorian northern life and as a model for the pointlessness of many
modern day Kafkaesque jobs. Corruption,
madness, hypocrisy and ignorance emerge, leading to its tragic conclusion. It’s a rare and special novel; it most
resembles novel Waterland by Graham Swift, as a portrait of a landscape and its
inbred people. It’s a novel that can’t
be easily summarised; images linger on after you’ve read it, longlisted for the
Man Booker prize, thoroughly recommended.
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