Novels and non-fictive
explorations about Western professionals challenged by shifting
their work overseas have a long and (in tone) varied history. John Hersey’s Hiroshima
is a dispassionate recording of a horrific event; Michael Ondaatje’s Anil’s
Ghost is a semi-hallucinatory novel about an archaeologist’s efforts at
exhuming a victim of Sri Lanka’s bloody civil war; and Evelyn Waugh’s Scoop
is a hilarious account of a journalist’s misadventures which proves the Peter
Principle. In these, and other, novels, the exotic locale acts as metaphysical
challenge to the protagonist (the challenge in the first book above is
specifically for the reader).
Like Scoop,
Catherine Bush’s 2013 Accusation is a novel about a journalist at sea in
an alien world of fact or fiction. Though Waugh’s novel’s protagonist was also
based on a reporter in Addis Ababa (Bush’s protagonist travels to that city, as
well), the similarities between the two books end there.
Bush’s narrator comes in
contact with a charismatic and forceful black man who founded and managed a
boys’ and girls’ circus company. Sara is drawn into sympathetic curiosity with
this man (Raymond) when she finds out he’s been accused of abusing his young
charges. The impetus, the reason for the sympathy? Sara, herself, had once been
falsely accused, and charged (the case was dropped for lack of evidence), with
stealing a woman’s wallet and running up some purchases, so she understands
that the accusation will never be fully expunged in the minds of many, whatever
the outcome of any trial.
This is a fine working
plot for all kinds of reasons and avenues: the reactions and withdrawal of
friends and lovers (Bush handles this with intelligence and conviction); the
mining for clues and objective detail (Bush is exhaustive in the book’s best
scenes, the middle-section questioning in Addis Ababa); and the acceptance or difficulty that one will never know the full details (Bush explores this from
different angles, and though it ties in well with the Sara-David sub-plot, the
grim persistence of the psychological reorientation overwhelms other possible
moods and viewpoints).
It’s on this latter
tendency, the main theme obsession, that the novel falters. Like her novel Claire’s
Head, Bush is excellent at getting inside the ... er, head of the
protagonist. But, though that metaphor is somewhat different in Accusation
(the different locations, the many characters, the competing viewpoints and
desires), Sara still suffocates the reader by not only appearing in most every
scene, but by being every scene’s overwhelming conscience. A counter argument
would consider that getting into others’ heads could have destroyed the factual
mystery (Raymond – did he or didn’t he?), but the Canadian characters also in
the dark (friend Juliet, lover David, as well as Sara’s newspaper boss) could
have been offered sole-viewpoint scenes, and some of the Ethiopian characters, and Australian Sem Le, could have added layers to the confusion and emotion by
offering us their unfiltered thoughts. The first-person voice could have been a
better way to deal with the dominant perspective.
That major complaint
aside, Accusation is narratively interesting, even thrilling in some
places, especially in its final two-thirds, as well as patiently wise in its
assessments.
As an addendum, the
missing dialogue tags sometimes hindered my reading experience. I always
understood who was speaking, it’s just that I had to halt on more than one
occasion, which is fine if that’s part of the intent – William Gaddis comes to mind – but not so
fine if it detracts from the narrative pace.
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