Hello Gentle Reader
Emily Dickinson is the epitome of the poet. A reclusive and hermetic creature, who appears to survive on writing. Writing became the existential exercise of bringing conscious meaning to life. Besides that, the facts of Dickinson’s life are minimal. There is only one authenticated portrait of the poetess. Dickinson is one of America’s most beloved poets. Though she published very little in her life time – and what was published, was often edited and revised, to fit into the poetic tradition of the time. It was not until the nineteen-fifties with the publication of “Complete Poems,” by the publisher Thomas H Johnson, that Dickinson’s poems were published in their manuscript form. Furthermore, Dickinson had published most of her poems, anonymously. The few that she had ever published during her life time. Less than a dozen of her eighteen hundred poems had been published. The poetess style is, known for its unusual syntax and extensive use of dashes; as well as unconventional capitalization, and a use of half rhymes. As an individual, she is known – even in her time as an eccentric. She had a love of gardening. Gardens and flowers often populate her poems. Some of her poems were often sent to her correspondence with, posies. One of the legendary facts of Dickinson; was her hermetic and reclusive behaviour. She only left the homestead when absolutely necessary. She communicated with visitors, from the other side of doors, never face to face. She was rarely seen; and when she was, she was always dressed in white. Still, despite her seclusion and retirement from an immediate public life; she was known for her prolific socialisation via correspondence. It was with letters that Dickinson was able, to be expressive and socially active. When visitors did visit the homestead, she was known to leave or send posies and poems to the guests. Despite her seclusion, she was not intolerant of other people or social tendencies.
Dear Emily Dickinson was more renowned in her life time as a gardener, more than she was a poet. Most likely because her poetic, interests, were not common knowledge. Her classical Victorian education, included botany; and Dickinson and her sister, often tended the garden on the homestead. The garden of the Dickinson homestead was admired and revered locally – in its time. Unfortunately, the garden has not survived. Furthermore Emily did not leave any, list of plants that were in the garden; or any notebook of the garden layout or plans. However she did have a herbarium, which contained four hundred and twenty four pressed flowers.
Emily Dickinson is very important to the novel: “The Detour,” also published as “Ten White Geese.” The main character takes the name ‘Emilie,’ – and is an Emily Dickinson scholar, and professor of translation studies at a university within the Netherlands. Dickinson also makes repeated visits within the novel, with lines of her verse, populating it. This often gives the novel a poetic flare. The fact that the main character, is a Dickinson scholar, and is often reminded of lines of her verse, gives the main character an often interesting characterization. One line of verse that stood out for me was, from the poem “These Are the Days When Birds Come Back,” and the lines:
“These are the days when skies put on
The old, old sophistries of June, -
A blue and gold mistake.”
The line: “a blue and gold mistake,” is a striking image, mixed with the mild weather of Wales, in which ‘Emilie,’ finds herself. The way Bakker provided the line, in comparison to the November was poignant. Bakker’s prose is cool. It’s minimal and it is detached. It moves not by action, but by its own pace, which is based around daily activities; that along with the constant, threat of an underlying menace.
Bakker’s previous and debut novel “The Twin,” won the IMAPAC Literary Dublin Award; the most lucrative prize for a single piece of fiction (novel). The two novels share common similarities with style, Bakker’s trademark; cool and unadorned prose. Yet his sense of detail is precise. It is with these details that Bakker can create the most interesting tale. Bakker’s acute sense of environment and its relation to its characters is also a key component of both novels. With “The Twin,” the farm is both home, and hell. A constant reminder of poor memories, a troubled past, and a failed future, and depleted present. Helmers life abruptly ended, with the death of his twin, Henk. Helmer is then forced to abandon his own future, to take up the one destined for Henk. The Welsh countryside, in “The Detour,” achieves the same purpose. Wales becomes a strange and foreign land. A place populated by elusive living badgers and dead badgers. It’s scarcely populated. With many local residents, remarking that in the future all that will remain are badgers. That along with a stone circle, grazing sheep, and strange if somewhat incompetent residents, give the impression that Emilie is truly in a foreign land. Daily life is also paramount of these novels. Neither one of the novels, are filled with magical quests, or anything out of the ordinary. Both novels are filled with daily meditations and transactions. Strangely enough Bakker is able to; imbue these chores with a sense of rhythm. The novels begin to be pulled along by this rhythmic repetition of images and actions. Putting wood on the fire, cooking supper, walking, exploring, feeding the geese. All of these begin to carry their own weight. They eventually begin to hint at larger pictures.
“The Detour,” is not a novel that one reads, and is done with. This alone makes it difficult to review. It appears that any shred of information let lose, or given prematurely will upstart the delicate balance that Bakker has strived to achieve. This novel is far more opaque, then “The Twin,” was. It’s ethereal and compact. It leaves a lot unsaid, a lot of red herrings, and questions unanswered. Bakker gives hints to what is going on, but that is about, all that Bakker gives in regards to this novel. You do not know what is killing the geese, other than presumed fox or badger. The relationship between Rhys Jones and his estranged son Bradwen is not entirely clear. Neither is their reason for their estrangement. Then there is of course, ‘Emilie,’ fleeing her, husband and the Netherlands, after an abrupt end to an affair. This leaves her husband unsure about the relationship between himself and his wife; and his own strange relationship that forms, after he tries to set her office on fire, after learning about the affair and her abrupt disappearance. Then of course comes the, menace that lurks behind every page of the novel. What is wrong with ‘Emilie,’? She pops pain killers as if they were candy; and smells things, that rationally are not produced within the environment. After seeing two badgers – quiet shy and lumbering animals; fight, and retreat back into the bush; she smells coconut in the air. Then the fact that, her husband realises something medically is wrong with ‘Emilie;’ though their doctor is not sharing the information. Though it is safe to presume, that whatever it is, is terminal. This explains ‘Emilie’s,’ inability to pay much mind to time itself. Openly disregarding its presence entirely.
The novel thrives off this menacing atmosphere. The atmosphere gripes the reader, the daily transactions move the narrator, and the strand relationships of the characters, keep the drama intact. No matter how quiet it is. It is no wonder why it won the “The Independent Foreign Fiction Prize.” It’s a quiet novel. A novel that thrives on its desolate landscape that is strikingly beautiful, and ridden with despair. The characters hold more to themselves then they do share. Their relationships strained or their contact and knowledge of each other, minimal to non-existent. The judges themselves were won over by its themes of exile, infidelity, and isolation – seen through misted windows; making sure that not all secrets are entirely shared. It moves swiftly. It does not waste a word. Everything is carefully chosen. The words are precise and the imagery lush and spare. The book itself lingers. It lingers in the mind like unswept corners and dusty chinks of the house. They are there. They are out of sight. Yet their existence is there. That existence alone is what lingers in the mind. Such is what “The Detour,” is like. A mistaken turn, that leads one down a foreign and beautiful, desolate world.
“The Detour,” is a striking novel. A novel of mundane oddities. Geese that go missing. A dead former owner whose scent fills the house. Strange residences, who know more then they let on. To compare “The Detour,” and “The Twin,” is unable to do either justice. Bakker has delivered a novel that is readable, mysterious and extremely opaque. It’ll take some re-reading to understand, and see the hints and the hints that are missed the first time around, in order to fully understand the novel. It’s a quiet read; but not entirely straightforward. Incredibly atmospheric; and rather interesting. Bakker delivered what he offered in “The Twin,” in a repackaged novel, which is a bit more eccentric, in its literary tastes.
Thank-you For Reading Gentle Reader
Take Care
And As Always
Stay Well Read
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M. Mary
