Son of Nobody

Not having read a Yann Martel book before, but being familiar with Life of Pi, I was excited to be given the opportunity to read and review Son of Nobody. I admit I was rather worried when I saw the format of the book which I found rather intimidating at first. I did actually find it easier to read than I thought I would. However, something didn't quite grab me.
One problem I had with it was that I really didn't like Harlow. I can understand someone being very absorbed and devoted to a subject but to put it ahead of everything else, even your own child, just didn't seem believable and I couldn't sympathise with him. It does however allow parallels to be drawn between Harlow and Psoas - both have left their homes and families, in the case of Psoas for 10 years, in the belief that it is for a worthy cause, Helen. Psoas is trying to rescue Helen of Troy and Harlow is trying to create a story/legacy for his daughter Helen. In both cases they go to extremes. Harlow doesn't stick to the original plan for his thesis which incurs the wrath of his Oxford supervisor and Psoas kills and butchers Prince Mestor and is censured by Hades for having gone too far. The fact that Hades comes across as the most reasonable character, especially when he ultimately breaks down when faced with the senseless killing of a child, seems quite ironic. My main take on the book is that it shows how ill-judged sacrifices are made that are ultimately not worth the costs paid by all parties and innocent people suffer as a,consequence. Sadly this situation is still happening around the world today far too often
In terms of the writing style, at times I found the Psoad part of the story beautifully written but at others I found it rather wordy and overly elaborate. However I recalled studying The Canterbury Tales and Paradise Lost many years ago and learning about the principles of Rhetoric and then the style made more sense. Overall it is a book I have struggled with but it has kept me thinking since I finished it so that must say something.

‘Son of Nobody’ refers to a man of lowly status, a foot soldier in Ancient Greek, called Psoas, who is the main character in an epic war poem set during the 10-year siege and capture of Troy. The novel’s centre is a poem, reconstructed from 30 papyrus fragments, by a modern early-career classics scholar called Harlow Donne while on a year-long, once-in-a-lifetime scholarship from his small Canadian institution to mighty Oxford University. This work (which Harlow calls The Psoad) is a beautifully written narrative poem, and appears ‘above the line’. The language is rich, dynamic and colourful, ranging from the tension of fast-paced battle scenes, through static descriptions, to slowly uttered sadness and agony, and is ideal for reading aloud.

‘Below the line’ Harlow provides copious footnotes to explain and illuminate the poem, and its historical context, giving an authentic feel to it as a work of scholarship. Embedded among the footnotes is his personal story during this period when he is lonely, impoverished, and absorbed in his work to the near exclusion of everything else. The writing style here is sketchy but enough to reveal the tensions in his marriage, his devotion to his daughter Helen, his poor relationship with his Oxford supervisor Professor Cubitt, and his own inability to respond effectively, despite being so able to articulate his ideas when it comes to academic writing.

There’s plenty of food for thought both above and below the line, including the trust we place in the integrity of those who interpret incomplete ‘facts’ on our behalf, especially when transparency is difficult to achieve. There is ambiguity too in the worth of Harlow’s work. Is Professor Cubitt right, and Harlow has been over-liberal in his use of the scraps of material he encountered so serendipitously? Or is Harlow’s work truthful and fully justified, and an account of great originality stifled by a conservative academic Gradgrind? There is the issue too of who has status and respect, with the smallness, lack of autonomy and eventual hopelessness in Psoas’s life also reflected in Harlow’s. The Psoad articulates universal themes related to war too: the disastrous consequences of hubris and going to war when you haven’t adequately predicted what may happen; the ruination and destruction of ordinary men’s lives, and of their families, on both sides of the conflict, and the need to keep going to preserve the egos of those with too much power.

This was a thoroughly enjoyable book and, as a non-reader of The Iliad, my fear that I would struggle with it because I wouldn’t ‘get’ the references proved unfounded. I am grateful to The Reading Agency and the publishers, Canongate, for encouraging me to read such an engrossing and original novel.

I came to the tale of the Trojan War as a child who loved reading and stories, who went through a phase of being interested in ancient Greek and Roman myth and history. I’ve never read the Iliad itself, but am familiar with the story of the fall of Troy from various retellings. I also generally like books which revisit stories from the point of view of minor/ordinary characters, and books which use the past to tell us something new about the present. Yann Martel’s new book ticks all of these boxes for me in an ambitious and unusual way, and does not disappoint.
The main modern day character is Harlow, a Canadian classical scholar who gets the opportunity to work for a year in Oxford deciphering what seems to be an alternate telling of the Iliad from the point of view of Psoas, a footsoldier. He leaves his wife and daughter behind to do so. The resultant book is a dual narrative of the poem he reconstructs (which he may have made up, or at least embellished wildly) and his footnotes with comments on both the poem and his own life and marriage.
In Homer’s Iliad we only hear the voices of gods and heroes, nobles and priests, the rich and the beautiful – with one exception, who promptly gets beaten up by Odysseus. In the Psoad we see the war from the ordinary soldier’s point of view: the discomfort, the fear, the lack of motivation, the view from the trenches. What did they do for 10 years? Why did they go? What did they hope to achieve?
One common problem with parallel narratives is that the reader can become more interested in one story and rather bored with the other, but I didn’t find that at all with this book. I was equally interested in the stories of both Psoas and Harlow, who are both ordinary people, separated from their families, caught up in conflicts not of their making, and ultimately overcome by grief.
I enjoyed Yann Martel’s writing, and the quirky details, for example the animals – the chameleons, giraffes, elephants. Was there even a platypus, or did I make that up?
I haven’t yet read Life of Pi, but it is now in my TBR pile, as are the Stephen Mitchell translation of the Iliad and Alice Oswald’s poem Memorial, both of which were recommended by Yann Martel on Radio 4’s Take Four Books.
Finally thanks to the Reading Agency and the publisher Canongate for providing review copies of Son of Nobody to the Whitley Bay book group.

Son of Nobody charts the discovery of an alternative version of the Iliad by a Canadian academic, Harlow Donne, working in Oxford.
I mostly really enjoyed this book which re-tells the story from the perspective of an ordinary foot soldier, Psoas.
I loved the layout of the book with the pages divided horizontally, the Psoad text at the top and the footnotes along with Harlow’s personal life, underneath. His life story reflects that in the Psoad with themes of love, exile from home, hope of glory (academic in Harlow’s case), loneliness and loss.
I enjoyed the lyricism of the Psoad text contrasting with the jaunty contemporary text, and I loved the alternative to the Trojan horse!
Overall it was well written and engaging and I would definitely recommend it.
Thanks to the Reading Agency and the publisher Canongate for providing the book.

I was intrigued by the title of Yann Martel,s latest novel. Son of Nobody captured my attention from the outset. The eye catching cover design instantly evokes Ancient Greece. However on closer inspection the inclusion of a small silhouette in modern dress reading a book cleverly gives the first clue to the dual narrative awaiting beyond the beautiful cobalt blue fly leaves.
After a brief, but engaging, introduction entitled Author's Note a very innovative structure is deployed. I liked the way a bold, black, horizontal line separated each page in two. Above the line verses of the epic Psoad poem emerged as they were translated by Harlow. In the space below this a contemporary, multi layered story unfolded focussing on the relationship between the scholar in Oxford and the family he left at home in America. As early as p8 the compelling line, 'I failed you as a father Helen and I failed your mother as a husband' had foreshadowed the subsequent narrative arc. I really enjoyed this original format. However it did become frustrating at times when it resulted in multiple blank pages. This slowed down the modern day storyline at crucial points. The author used a footnotes approach to link the two strands of the novel and this was largely successful. I found the ending particularly poignant as the Son of Nobody and the Academic appeared to align as mirror images of each other.
This was a meticulously researched book and I would not hesitate to recommend it to other readers. I would like to thank the Reading Agency and the publisher Canongate for providing review copies to Whitley Bay Book Club.