Ever After is a rumination on death, faith, and finding meaning in life more than a proper novel. The narrator, Bill Unwin, is recovering from a failed suicide. His convalescence is used to muse over the fate of the father he never knew, and who may not even have been his father, and the ravings of his hedonistic mother over the vanity of posterity. Meanwhile, he is withholding the manuscript of one of his Victorian ancestors from a fellow Cambridge don, a vain, publicity-seeking but successful rival. This is finally the motive for a second, parallel plot, in many ways the more interesting, about the Victorian in forebear in question, Matthew Pearce. For Pearce, surveyor, amateur fossil-collector, and son-in-law to the local parson, is a man of his age, scientifically inclined yet religious. Lyell, Darwin cannot fail to attract Pearce, yet they also threaten his marriage and family, his very social standing.
'To be or not to be' is the book's starting point, and indeed Graham makes the parallels explicit. Unwin, for example, suspects his step-father of having been the cause of his father's suicide. The problem is that Ever After functions poorly as a novel. The hero, to start with, is lacking in attractive features. Oh-so-very-British self-deprecation is admirable, but it is hardly a heart-winner on its own, especially without much humour. But the main issue is that the narrative style is too derivative. It only ever offers a thirty-thousand feet view of its characters, failing to bring them to life. This novel is very much second best to Last Orders, and it is a quickly forgotten piece.