The Enlightenment Club
"I liked this book for its complete disdain for the way in which most contemporary novels get written - reticent, unobtrusive, but delicately written and with big themes boiling away beneath the surface, and above all, harbouring a sense of the random, if not chaotic, way in which the majority of lives get lived."
Critic and novelist DJ Taylor
The Enlightenment Club is a story about Stella, a young woman with a thirst for knowledge, who briefly finds what she is looking for, in the club from which the book takes its name. The club is run by an ageing academic, who is passionate about high culture and philosophy, and instils this passion into its members. But then fate intervenes, and Stella is thrown out of this cultural Eden with just memories of what she has learnt to guide her. Life, it seems, has a more humdrum destiny in store for her…
Of course, she rebels against this. But does she go too far? Was the ‘learning’ in the Club true wisdom, or just clever words and intellectual snobbery?
This is a book about ‘high culture’, and its somewhat uneasy relationship with popular culture and, more generally, with everyday life.
It is also a book about therapy. Right now, that ought to guarantee blockbuster status - but Stella hasn’t had a dreadfully abused childhood (so no opportunities for one of those Dave Pelzer covers), just makes a bit of a mess of her life. As a lot of us do… And goes to a therapist to get some sorting out done. And has to face - but I don’t want to give the story away.
I greatly enjoyed writing from the female point of view. Maybe this is some Jungian thing about animus and anima, or maybe I just found it fun to pretend to be someone else. In my writing I always seem to end up doing this. Four books about a Chinese cop, and now, when I get to the UK, I indulge in a spot of literary cross-dressing. Why? I have no idea. It might be some dark stuff about hidden self-loathing, but I think it’s simpler - I’m fascinated by the question ‘What’s it like to be somebody else?’ Reading is, of course, one answer to this, but so is writing.
Finally, though the book has some pretty dark places, it is essentially a comedy. The humour is gentle and ironic, rather than ’in your face’ - I know, the modern taste is for the latter, but it’s not me.
There is a misconception that books which are funny are somehow not serious. I don’t buy this for a minute: it’s very adolescent to equate seriousness with po-facedness or gloom. The demons are there, of course, but - I’ve said, I don’t want to give the ending away.
I am still completing this novel – David Taylor’s comment above was on the last draft. Watch this space for news about its publication time and format.
