Uncle Rudolf (Hardcover)

One of the post-war English literary greats, Paul Bailey is esteemed for the piercing finesse of his writing. His new novel Uncle Rudolf exemplifies that trait: it packs a telling and surprising emotional punch, despite its apparent slightness. The narrator is a partly Jewish Romanian, Andrew Peters, looking back on his colourful life. The eponymous hero is the narrator's opera-singing uncle, who rescued the young Peters from proto-Nazi Eastern Europe, and brought him to England. As Peters regards his early years by the Danube we get to see a picture of old mittel Europe through the exile's nostalgic and rhapsodic eyes:

Why was I thinking of pickled vegetables--of cauliflower and carrots; of green and red peppers; of radishes and red cabbage? I hadn't eaten the dish in a lifetime... and then, with an involuntary cry of anguish, and clear blue sky, I saw my mother and me tickling my father, who is pretending to be asleep on the grass.

Poignant stuff, in itself. But Bailey/Andrews' intent isn't merely to paint a cameo portrait of Yiddish life, it's also to tell the story of how the stranger becomes the Englishman, and how intellectual and artistic values can be translated across borders.

As the scene shifts from Vienna to London to the opera houses of the world, what abides is the wit and life force of Uncle Rudolf and his bemused coterie of exiles: "He spoke in French, and very occasionally said something in his native Polish, but there was one English word, and one only, that he loved. It was "belly". He would pat his stomach and say "Mon belly", and then he'd laugh out loud. "Mon belly, Monsieur Petrescu. C'est enorme." This is a charming, exquisite, uplifting novel. --Sean Thomas

Praise for Paul Bailey 'He has a rare feeling for language and an understanding of character which few can rival.' Selina Hastings, Daily Telegraph On KITTY AND VIRGIL: 'A book the depth and beauty of which it is hard to do justice in the language of criticism and dissection.' Alex Clark, TLS On OLD SOLDIERS: 'Old Soldiers has taken root in my head. It's a spare, intense, elliptical novel, beautifully and cunningly set in a London which is at once drawn from Dickens and bang up-to-date.' Jonathan Raban, Sunday Times On GABRIEL'S LAMENT: Shortlisted for the Booker Prize 'A magnificent novel, moving, eccentric and unforgettable.' Daily Telegraph On PETER SMART'S CONFESSIONS: Shortlisted for the Booker Prize 'Rich in characters, situations, jokes and comic repartee. It's a fiendishly clever and funny book.' Anthony Thwaite, Observer

Paul Bailey established himself as an author of distinction when his first novel, At the Jerusalem, won the Somerset Maugham Award. Since then, he has twice been shortlisted for the Booker Prize, as well as receiving several other awards. This latest novel is written in his customary spare, dignified prose; he tells his story with a calm compassion which merely enhances the horror of certain parts of the tale. Andrew Peters, formerly Andrei, comes to live with his Uncle Rudolf in London when the Fascist regime in his native Romania threatens the safety of everyone with even a trace of Jewish blood in their veins. After a hair-raising journey to Paris, his father puts the bewildered seven-year-old on a train to London, and promises that the family will be reunited very soon. Andrew never sees his mother or father again. Instead, he quickly settles down to a life of pleasure and excitement in his uncle's household. Rudolf is a gifted tenor, and travels the great cities of Europe where he stars in various operettas. Andrew accompanies him on these excursions, and as the years pass, he becomes increasingly attached to his uncle. But he never forgets his roots, and when Rudolf finally reveals the truth about what really happened to his parents, Andrew knows he has to return to Romania to lay the ghosts of the past once and for all. The relationship between the naive young country boy and his elegant, charismatic uncle is the lynchpin of this understated novel. Andrew's physical attraction towards Rudolf is touched upon, but is handled with sensitivity and discretion. Far more overpowering is the sense that Rudolf has betrayed his own sublime talents by performing in populist operettas, rather than taking on the challenges of grand opera. As Rudolf sinks deeper into an almost imperceptible melancholy, Andrew seems unable to tear himself away from his uncle's side. One by one Rudolf's faithful old retainers fall away until only he is left to support Rudolf to the bitter end. This is a moving account of how age and background are no barrier to a deep and lasting relationship. Once again, Bailey displays his profound insight into the complex workings of the human heart. (Kirkus UK)