The Night Following [Hardcover]

When I saw THE NIGHT FOLLOWING amongst one month's selection for Vine, I was drawn to it because of it being described by another reviewer as a well written psychological novel. Having studied psychology as well as counselling, novels which delve into the dark recesses of the human mind and psyche appeal to me. So, I believed that I would love this book. However, every time I picked it up and began to read, I found myself wanting to turn away from it fairly quickly.
I cannot deny that it is well written. Joss has done an expert job at creating a character who, in a split second, changes not only her life but the life of another. Guilt is a complex emotion, and Joss has superbly shown just how complex it can be - it truly can eat you up.
So why my reluctance at progressing with this novel? Well, as daft as this sounds, I think it is because Joss has done too good a job. Reading, for me, is escape from my normal everyday life - which, working as a counsellor in bereavement and cancer care, means that I hear about people's struggles with loss and guilt every working week. So although THE NIGHT FOLLOWING is a well crafted book, it was just plunging me into what I have in the counselling room.
If, like me, you read for some light relief then you may want to pass THE NIGHT FOLLOWING BY. If, however, you like psychological novels which drag you under, this could be right up your street.

What are our lives but the stories that we weave in order for us to construct some semblance of meaning, not so much from the reality of the world we inhabit, as from the remembrances of the things that we have glimpsed in dream or otherwise imagined? How much of other people's stories do we absorb and make our own, binding them into our own life-threads through our sudden and everyday encounters? How easily -- casually almost -- can our life-story be altered or turned around by those encounters? Or by events that are thrust upon us by fate? Are the ghosts that surround us real, or do we simply make them as we need them to be? Can we turn back time and take over the life-story of another if we feel the need badly enough?

Morag Joss' dark novel of deception, betrayal, guilt, loss, atonement and redemption is elegantly written and masterfully constructed. And for all that the events she unfurls within this book become ever more unlikely as it progresses, the story-telling is so engaging that any disbelief one might have simply falls away, as one is drawn ever deeper into her tale, in the hope that redemption and reparation will triumph in the end.

Mixing pathos, poignancy and humour in a sharply observed and deftly painted picture of human relationships, "The Night Following" weaves a fabulous tale of interlocking and devastatingly interacting life-stories. These intertwine and affect each other at several narrative levels and in altogether unexpected ways in a stunningly brilliant story that pushes at the boundaries of psychological thriller and suspense novel but is so much more than either. Hauntingly beautiful in places but never less than dark throughout, this book is a masterpiece of invention and extremely cleverly built and executed. Reading it is like peeling the layers of an onion and not just because it has you reaching for the tissues time and time again! Wonderful stuff!

(Incidentally, whoever included the story synopsis on the dust jacket should be shot! Do not read it if you want to savour the full impact of the way this story unfolds!)

Although I haven't read other of Joss's books, she is established as an author, and on the basis of this book, it is evident that she is very much in command of her craft.

The book is written in an assured manner, with excellent control over voice, tone, character and plot. It is not the sort of book I would have expected to appeal to me, and yet I found it compelling and read it within a couple of days.

The plot is outlined above. Other people have commented on the redemptive nature of the narrative. There is certainly a theme of redemption there, as the doctor's wife seeks to restore to Arthur some of what she has taken from him. But redemption doesn't normally look much like this - it generally comes with a bit more hope. Both the two main characters are in very dark places - literally, being unable to face daylight. Arthur is disintegrating for the loss of his wife Ruth, the doctor's wife (unnamed) losing her identity effectively due to a lack of love or even interest in her. And there is another big theme - the systematic and undeserved betrayal and incomprehension of women by men. The women are largely committed and engaged (if naive about the men): the men are uncomprehending, abusive, misguided and largely incompetent. Even within the relationship between Arthur and Ruth, his late wife, which is portrayed more positively than any other in the book, it is shown that Ruth is the one with emotional intelligence and depth, whilst Arthur is devoted to her but largely uncomprehending of the depths of her life, being more captivated as so many men are by such things as constellations and bird-watching.

"This is the evil in everything that happens under the sun: The same destiny overtakes all. The hearts of men, moreover, are full of evil and there is madness in their hearts while they live, and afterward they join the dead."

An interesting article I read recently reflected on the fact that most literature takes place "under the sun", as Ecclesiastes would put it - as though there is nothing more than purely material causes and effects - there is nothing higher - no God; increasingly no fate; no real significance. Stuff just happens. That's a reflection of where we are generally as a culture. This book shows where that perspective takes us. Random events happen - the woman discovers her husband's affair; Ruth is killed in a road accident - with no real significance - it's just how life is. It is a very bitter perspective, and few people are prepared to accept this - even whilst denying the possibility of a higher power, many people would rather close their minds to the full implications of this, or embrace a vague and un-thought-out pantheism, believing vaguely in some sort of faint guidance of fate, and some perception of their own significance. Joss's book is more honest in that regard - there is only me, nobody else, and I have to make my own sense of my life, give myself some significance.

And yet, for all that the wife of the doctor pursues a redemptive aim, she is still lost at the end. The characters who seem best able to cope with this random life under the sun are those who seem to have least comprehension - the doctor, the blind grandmother. Those who face the world as it is seem to consistently end up wrecked. Only Ruth, perhaps, carves out for herself a purposeful, meaningful place - and then she is killed by an arrow of outrageous fortune.

This is a very good book - it is definitely literature, not simply a story. I would recommend it for reading groups, and anybody keen to read and reflect on what they read.