So many years ago that I refuse to count, I used to commute
into London on the Metropolitan Line. The trains then were fairly new – the
line electrified in the 1960s - and they seemed the height of smooth travel.
From my station in Bucks, where usually one could find a seat in the rearmost
carriage, the forty minute journey into the City of London would be spent – by
me – buried in a book.
My fellow commuters would rustle their way through
newspapers, seldom conversing, and the journey progressed from stop to stop occasionally
interrupted by railway officialdom or the odd incident on the line. One
experience has stayed with me, the memory invoked again this week. I can hear
the rattle of the carriage doors closing, the whirr of the train moving forward,
feel the rush as it gathers speed. I
wish I could remember the name of the book I was so immersed in that day. It
was a thriller involving an escape during the Second World War. The escape was
being made out of either Germany or occupied France, and the author built
tension in vivid detail, paragraph by paragraph. So much so in fact, that when a
pair of ticket inspectors appeared near my seat, I was momentarily convinced they
were the Gestapo. I felt cold and disorientated as I showed my season ticket;
the fear induced by the story was alarmingly real.
I haven’t been so involved in a book since then – until now,
reading ‘The Swiss Spy’ by Alex Gerlis. Other reviewers have described the
story itself, so I will simply mention that it is set in the same WW2 time
frame, and recounts with admirable clarity and detail the experience of a
double agent as he makes more than one journey into Nazi Germany. Alex Gerlis skilfully paints the grim picture of the oppressed, controlled lives of the
inhabitants of such cities as Berlin and Stuttgart at that time, where no-one
could be trusted and hope was a mere dream. People lived in constant fear.
Worse was to come.
My reading of this book coincided with the EU Referendum on
23rd June and its aftershocks. It has been impossible not to ponder
on the fact that the events in the book took place only seventy six years ago.
The European Union was formed after the War in an attempt at peaceful trading
within its borders. Is such a thing ever truly possible? Do
human beings always become sidetracked by their own desires and so, inevitably, by
greed and a lust for power over one another? I cannot answer that question.
A book whose narrative causes readers to experience emotions
as well as to think deeply about life elevates itself from a mere ‘read’ to
something more profound. I have awarded this book five stars for the
experience. Would I read it again? One thing is certain: on a re-read, the
circumstances of life around me will not be the same. I will answer ‘yes’, but
I believe I would leave a gap of some years before so doing, if only out of
curiosity about what further changes Europe will have experienced by then.
I doubt I will ever again travel on the Metropolitan Line as
I now live so far away from it, but you never know. And it was on another such
journey on the same railway line, between Baker Street and Finchley Road, that
one of the ideas for my book ‘Losing Time’ was born, the concept of travelling
through time during a train journey… so I have reason to be grateful to that particular line!
Thanks for this, Prue. I might well request it from my library. I particularly liked your comment "A book whose narrative causes readers to experience emotions as well as to think deeply about life elevates itself from a mere ‘read’ to something more profound. " I couldn't agree more and it's something I aspire to in my own writing. On the other hand I believe that it's not every reader who can be thus stirred. I believe it only affects someone susceptible (and open) to this strength of reaction.
ReplyDeleteI related to the train journey story, as I, too commuted daily to London from Hemel in Hertfordshire with my nose always in a book. In the late 60s to the early 70s.
Thank you Ellie, and I'm sorry that the book is not easily available to you as I'm sure you would enjoy it.
DeleteI agree with your comment about writing. I have certainly seen its power in yours, and its effect upon your readers. I always hope to touch people in some way with what I write, and whilst I agree that it may only affect those susceptible to it, there may also be those readers for whom such an experience is something new.
How extraordinary that we may have overlapped at some point when we worked in London. I love the idea that we may have passed in the street or bought a sandwich at the same sandwich bar. I might use this idea! :)
Thanks for this, Prue. I might well request it from my library. I particularly liked your comment "A book whose narrative causes readers to experience emotions as well as to think deeply about life elevates itself from a mere ‘read’ to something more profound. " I couldn't agree more and it's something I aspire to in my own writing. On the other hand I believe that it's not every reader who can be thus stirred. I believe it only affects someone susceptible (and open) to this strength of reaction.
ReplyDeleteI related to the train journey story, as I, too commuted daily to London from Hemel in Hertfordshire with my nose always in a book. In the late 60s to the early 70s.