Room by Emma Donoghue

Of the Booker titles I’ve read so far, Room has proved to be the biggest surprise: I expected to dislike it (fearing that it would be an exploitative and sensationalist attempt to jump on the bandwagon of the recent Fritzl and Kampusch cases) but ended up being thoroughly engrossed in what is an extremely well-realised story. I also had doubts that the novel would be able to sustain a 300-page narrative from the perspective of a 5-year-old, but Emma Donoghue succeeds in making Jack a thoroughly credible and sympathetic guide through what is a harrowing tale. The fact that the novel succeeds in raising several moments of genuine humour without being flippant or callow is all the more remarkable. The scene in which Jack turns on TV to see a panel of learned talking heads discuss him in literary/philosophical terms (“Aren’t we all, in some way, Jack?”; “Isn’t he like Perseus…”) is particularly amusing.

Just like those pretentious talking heads (with who I must share a pretentious kinship), I loved the many literary/mythological references that Donoghue crammed into the book: there are allusions to Adam and Eve, Jack and the Beanstalk, numerous fairy/folk tales (Bluebeard, Hansel and Gretal), Jesus and Mary (alongside contemporary 'myths' like Diana's death and the fall of the Berlin Wall). I also love the fact that Old Nick returns at the same time every day: this is something that could only happen in a fairy tale and makes the first half of the novel read like a long-lost out-take from the Grimmest of the Brothers' Grimm.

Also, more than being a novel about abuse, Room actually proves to be a moving portrayal of the mother/son bond (in the same way that Cormac McCarthy’s post-apocalyptic The Road is an in-extremis rendering of the father-son bond). The way the outside world and its vastness begins to chip away at the tight bond begin Jack and his Ma is heartbreaking; with Jack’s insistence on keeping the objects from Room and his constant desire to return there a horrifying yet understandable development.

Donoghue also uses the latter half of the novel to paint a caustic picture of our celebrity-obsessed culture, one where Jack's and his Ma's story becomes another news item for our consumptiom (and ultimately, disposal).

The only section that rang slightly false notes were the escape sequence, but this is excusable for two reasons: firstly, although Old Nick - the captor - seemed a little too unbelievable here, he is a fairy tale villain/ogre/devil and they are always duped in quite unbelievable ways; secondly it is rendered in such a thrilling fashion that this only becomes apparent in hindsight.

Now I’m about to leave Room to find myself In a Strange Room with Damon Galgut…