In a Strange Room by Damon Galgut

Damon Galgut’s short novel has drawn criticism on two grounds: firstly, that it is a work of non-fiction and, secondly, that it is actually three unconnected short stories (they were initially published separately) and not a novel.

The first criticism can be dealt with by pointing out that the book is actually about memory and its inability to faithfully represent something (the narrator often interjects with comments like “I don’t remember what he was wearing”). The second can be dismissed by the fact that the three stories connect more successfully (in terms of theme and how each reflects the others concerns) than most novels.

The novel deals with three distinct journeys made by Damon over a 20 year period, with each one being named after the role the narrator plays in it (The Follower, The Lover and The Guardian).

I found the novel to be an absolute pleasure: the writing was limpid, tight and entirely shorn of fat. His ability to convey a scene so vividly (the shimmering heat, a gathering storm) with such minimal means was very impressive. The fact that Galgut writes in longhand first is a testament to this old-fashioned method as there is clarity to the writing that is rare to encounter. This also seems to confirm Jonathan Franzen’s recent claim that “no-one with a broad-band connection can write good fiction”.

I can imagine that many people would be put off by this work, perhaps seeing it as ‘precious’ or pretentious, but I thought it was a wonderful attempt at portraying a person who is not at home either in the world or with themselves. This is why the author’s switching between I and He is so effective: it serves to highlight how divorced the author is from his own self.

So, although this might be my winner, I don’t think it was enjoyed by the rest of the group, so we must leave Damon alone In a Strange Room.