On 2nd October we discussed How I Live Now by Meg Rosoff. This is the story of Daisy, a 15 year old New Yorker who comes to stay with her aunt and cousins in rural England. Her cousins live an almost feral existence under the relaxed eye of their mother on their rambling estate, and even she leaves the picture once war breaks out and England is occupied by an invading army, as she has some shadowy diplomatic work to carry out. Daisy, who suffers from an eating disorder had by this stage embarked on an intense sexual relationship with her cousin Edmund, and when the family is split up she adopts a parental role over Piper, the youngest sister, although it’s clear that she learns as much about survival from Piper as Piper takes comfort from her. The attempt to get back to Edmund across a country changed by the effects of war has a profound effect on Daisy.
All who attended this meeting had read the novel and found it an easy read even though the subject matter can hardly be described as lightweight. Possibly it’s because this is a so-called crossover novel which has made its way from the teenage shelves to more mainstream fiction. The book is written in Daisy’s voice; she’s a smart, cynical dissatisfied girl with problems at home; the aforementioned eating disorder and the fact that her stepmother seems to have it in for her. She tries hard to cast a cold eye on everything, but is quickly charmed by the strange family she has wound up in. Rosoff is successful in speaking with the voice of a disgruntled teenager, to the degree that I was surprised when I heard she was in her 40s when she wrote it. (It’s amazing to note by the way that this was Rosoff’s first novel…it hit the ground running when it came out in 2004, being nominated for a slew of awards and winning some.)
Daisy’s mental health problems seem to be resolved by the end of the novel…the burden of care on her shoulders is too big it seems to admit of any internal struggles. She makes the decision, for example, to eat while everybody else is starving; the logic being what is the point under those circumstances of starving yourself? This provoked a discussion within the group about whether this was plausible, and whether we should be sending our neurotic youth off to boot-camp followed by a visit to a war zone to sort out their heads. The jury’s out it has to be said, though a visit to Gaza some years ago put life in Britain into perspective for one member of the group according to her own admission.
There was also a lot of discussion about the war in the story and war in general and its effects. It’s been long years since Britain or Ireland has been invaded; even though Britain was bombed during WW2 it didn’t suffer the ground invasion Hitler had been planning. The concept then of the presence of an occupying force, of the cutting of food supply, communications and transport in such a familiar place is hard to fathom. We all commented on the return of the footpath system in the novel to being the main thoroughfares by which Daisy and Piper negotiated their way home. The occupying force is never identified as being from anywhere in particular and that makes them seem even scarier. To put it mildly they don’t seem to be too bothered about winning hearts and minds (if occupying forces ever are) and their cruelty has lasting effects in particular on Edmund.
The initial lack of interest in the war shown by the teenagers came up for comment too, in contrast to the nuclear nightmares most of us suffered as children and teenagers. (Our own very unscientific analysis based on the members of our group suggests that older siblings are mostly to blame by the way for the terror-stricken Armageddon nightmares we endured as 11 year olds!)
Although it was an easy read, and perhaps because of it, it was felt in general that this book does not stay with you for very long after you’ve read it. That’s certainly borne out for me as it was a while since I’d read it and as I didn’t get to refresh my memory during a very busy month, it actually took the group discussion to do that. I did read other books over the month, but felt unwilling to go back to this one in the long run, as I found it an uneasy read. I can never seem to read books about war twice, being too wussy, and though I was the only one, I maintain that I found it unsettling to have such an intense sexual relationship between first cousins, just described with no comebacks, not even from the admittedly relaxed family group, especially in a novel aimed at teenagers. In general, though, apart from that purse-lipped response, it was a thought-provoking read, and one I think we’d all recommend.
Next month we will be discussing The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy. No, really, we will!!
