A Cupboard Full of Coats [Paperback]

A cupboard full of coats is an intense, thought provoking story of jealousy, domestic violence and guilt.
Set in London's East End, the story is told by Jinxy, a thirty year old mother who is unable to relate to her five year old son. It is told in two time strands - the present time over a few days, plus flashbacks to the time leading up to Jinxy's mother's death fourteen years ago.
Guilt has dogged her as she feels that her own jealousy made her partly responsible for her mother's violent death at the hands of a jealous partner. When the ex-partner is released from prison, his old friend Lemon visits Jinxy to admit his own guilt for his part in her mother's death. Over a few days, Lemon takes on the role of apologist wanting to be absolved from blame. However the relationship between Jinxy and Lemon is a complex one and eventually Lemon acts as fairy godmother before disappearing in a puff of smoke.
The dark secrets at the heart of the story are leavened by sensuous descriptions of the luxury "guilt" coats in her mother's cupboard and sumptuous details of West Indian meals.
Dark and complex jealousies contrasted with beauty, devotion and passion make this a fascinating story with depths that appeal on many levels. The two timescales can be irritating as it interrupts the intensity, but it does work as a device for creating tension while unravelling secrets from the past.
I hadn't realised when I read the book that it had been nominated for the Booker prize. It's definitely a very worthwhile read - Yvette Roberts has created an impressive debut novel.

A Cupboard Full of Coats is an interesting novel which does well (for the most part) to steer clear of stereotypes.

It is set in multi-racial East London where many people have mixed heritage and skin colour matters - especially to young people. The novel follows the story of Jinxy, both in the present day as her life in interrupted by a visit from Lemon, an older man from Montserrat, whom she remembers as the friend of Berris, the man her mother invited into her life many years earlier.

Told in twin timelines, Jinxy unpicks both the devastation that her mother's relationship with Berris brought to bear and also the bones the bones of her adult life, lonely and enduring a failing relationship with her son. Within these timelines, the narrative is erratic and non-linear. Frequently Jinxy will drop a bombshell as though everyone knew it, only to explain the situation some time later.

The narrative has a real intensity; the pressure of a long conversation spread over a weekend wit only Jinxy and Lemon present to offer their differing perspectives. Moreover, the two have a chemistry between them which may not be entirely healthy.

As far as breaking away from stereotypes, Jinxy is not on the breadline; she has steady work in dressing and presenting bodies, working with various funeral parlours. Money is not an issue; rather than yet another book about sleeping in coalsacks, we have designer products, lotions and potions, fur coats and frequent references to cooking sumptuous Caribbean food. This gives the characters the opportunity to explore their personal relationships and flawed personalities.

Yet for all the complexity, A Cupboard Full Of Coats doesn't always hit the right note. The non-linear narrative can be an encumbrance - it can make reading slow and requires great concentration. There is sometimes a feeling that this is done as a trick to make a straightforward story seem more profound. And the narrative is also not always gripping. On more than one occasion, I found myself skipping back pages that I realized I had read but not digested.

Yet the lasting memory is of a novel where the whole does add up to more than its parts. There is a good study of guilt and isolation. There is a real sense of being the outsider - both in society and within a family. Domestic abuse is done well, with the focus more on the psychological than the physical - the need for control and keeping face.

And most of all, there's a sense of Hackney as a place where real people live, not cartoon kids acting out the latest edition of News At Ten.

A Cupboard Full of Coats is an emotional book describing the life of Jinx, a woman haunted by the thought that she was partly responsible for the murder of her mother.

Jinx suffered from a violent childhood and finds it hard to connect with her five-year-old son. I found their endless misunderstandings heart-breaking to read:

"I caught up with him he had ripped three or four heads off the crocuses planted along the thin bed that ran the length of the path from the gate to the door.
`Ben, don't do that please,' I said as he started tearing off another. Ignoring me, he yanked it off anyway, adding it to the collection in his other hand.
`Will you bloody stop!' I said.
When he looked at me, those enormous eyes were filled with tears. He held out his hand. His voice was tiny. `These are for you,' he said.
And I looked at the small, fresh, squashed bouquet held out to me, and for a second I could have taken his gift and smiled, then cuddled and whispered to my son, Forgive me. I love you.
But the words that came out of my mouth instead were:
`Great! Why don't you kill every single flower you can see?"

I was gripped by this book from the very first page. I flew through it, desperate to know what part Jinx had played in the murder of her mother and how everything would be resolved.

I found the characters well formed and realistic, and the descriptions of life as a Caribbean in East London were evocative and atmospheric. Details of food preparation were particularly mouth-watering.

The writing isn't perfect and I spotted a few typographical errors (for example, see the first line of the quote) but I was so absorbed in the story that these didn't bother me.

If you enjoyed Chris Cleave's, The Other Hand, then I'm sure you'll love, A Cupboard Full of Coats. I don't think the writing quality is good enough to justify its place on the Booker long list, but it will gain a spot in my list of favourite books published in 2011.