Peter Carey’s historical romp through 19th Century America (via France and Britain with a minor detour to Australia), is a fictionalised attempt to draw the life of Alexis de Toqueville (the French aristocrat who wrote Democracy in America). I have to confess that I knew little of de Tocqueville's life before reading this, but found that that this didn’t hinder my enjoyment of the novel; although - knowing Carey’s love of literary games and intertextuality – some prior knowledge may have enhanced it.
Although I was completely in love with the novel by the time I closed it after 450 pages, I found the initial chapter a struggle. The novel is written from two perspectives: Olivier (Carey’s version of de Tocqueville) and Parrot (Olivier’s English man-servant). They each take a chapter in turn and often provide an ironic commentary or different perspective on what has gone before. The only problem for Carey (and the reason that I found the opening a problem) is that Olivier’s voice is simply a shadow when compared with the rambunctious, wildly creative technicolour of Parrot’s. This comparitive dullness in the Frenchman's narrative is essential in that we have to believe that Olivier is pompous and uptight, but I still found myself longing for a return to Parrot’s perspective in the early stages of the novel. This sense of unevenness balanced out as we got to know Olivier more, with his and Parrot's mutual antipathy transforming into a begruding 19th Century 'bromance' (I even found myself sympathising with Olivier in the latter stages of the novel).
The novel manages to touch on a huge number of themes (democracy vs. aristocracy, the role of art in democracy, forgery, duty, friendship, genius, banking) and Carey has much fun by having the characters say things about America that will prove to be either dead on the mark or ludicrously off-target.
C’est un tour de force and one I would heartily recommend!
Although I was completely in love with the novel by the time I closed it after 450 pages, I found the initial chapter a struggle. The novel is written from two perspectives: Olivier (Carey’s version of de Tocqueville) and Parrot (Olivier’s English man-servant). They each take a chapter in turn and often provide an ironic commentary or different perspective on what has gone before. The only problem for Carey (and the reason that I found the opening a problem) is that Olivier’s voice is simply a shadow when compared with the rambunctious, wildly creative technicolour of Parrot’s. This comparitive dullness in the Frenchman's narrative is essential in that we have to believe that Olivier is pompous and uptight, but I still found myself longing for a return to Parrot’s perspective in the early stages of the novel. This sense of unevenness balanced out as we got to know Olivier more, with his and Parrot's mutual antipathy transforming into a begruding 19th Century 'bromance' (I even found myself sympathising with Olivier in the latter stages of the novel).
The novel manages to touch on a huge number of themes (democracy vs. aristocracy, the role of art in democracy, forgery, duty, friendship, genius, banking) and Carey has much fun by having the characters say things about America that will prove to be either dead on the mark or ludicrously off-target.
C’est un tour de force and one I would heartily recommend!
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