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Dec. 18, 2006 Heartbreaking. That is the word for this novel. I was not even aware of McGrath’s work when this novel was lent to me, but I intend on familiarizing myself with it in the future. I wonder if his other work is anything like this Port Mungo of his. If the other books are, I shall not read them but rather eat them up raw and uncooked with no ketchup or pepper! An aspiring writer like myself, uneducated and self taught and self stylized, can only wonder how someone gets to write like that. In fact the writing is so good that I don’t think you notice it, but rather only the story, only the characters. Jack is the main character, and he is an aspiring painter, as we learn through the narrator’s voice, and the narrator is Gin, his sister. That is one of several points right there…the appropriation of voice. I’ve not seen it done better than here. McGrath is genius. The front of the book has a quote from a review that says, ‘ A work of utter brilliance.’ It is, by my view also. Jack and his sister were close growing up, and later he flees art school to start a life with Vera, an older and more knowledgeable artist herself. From this point on, Gin, the narrator, tries through the years to guess and put a picture together as to what goes on in her brother’s life, and what it means, and so on. She has to do this through sporadic meetings, letters, and lots of guess work. In the story, Gin brings along the reader through the stages of Jack and Vera’s life. They move from the United Kingdom, to New York City, to pre-revolution Cuba, and then to Port Mungo, a desolate river town somewhere in Honduras. Jack is serious about his work, and his partner Vera, more serious about drinking and running off to indulge in promiscuity. They have two children, and Vera lacks mothering instinct, so Jack takes care of them. Jack becomes an artist, but is not so successful, and Gin becomes not much other than a kind of modern day holy fool, or sad clown, wise and knowing, brilliant even, but troubled and plagued by the proverbial inner demons. You’d have to read the rest to see what happens, and go on the sad adventure as a reader. There are probably plenty of books about the plight of the romantic artist or the expatriate type living abroad somewhere. This is what I’d guess bohemians and artists try to do. There is nothing new under the sun. But this character study is different. McGrath seems to be peeling all of the layers away of the human onion that is personality and exposing frightening and existential truths about the characters. Nuance is the word of the day, because this isn’t about a good man and a bad woman, this is about articulating the complexities of people, rebel artists living in the tropics nevertheless, and it’s powerful. Though the book is about 250 pages, it doesn’t feel that way. It feels shorter, as the writing is fluid and conversational, as if Gin is talking to you over coffee, and what she has to say you want to hear. No idle chitchat is this. The interesting thing is that Gin, for all her sensitivity to the subject matter, can be mistaken also. One of the quotes inside the front of the book from all its acclaimed reviews says that it is a bit like Conrad. Well, what if Marlowe, after all the tales he narrated, was mistaken about something fundamental. That would certainly cause pause to reflect. See, McGrath has somehow come upon a great and brave way of having his narrator go about things, by the very choice of narrator herself. She is unsure about it all, but trying to sort it out, that is- her brother’s life and his family and especially what it was like in Port Mungo. Complex story because it looks into the psychological aspect of the characters, and even the psychological aspect of the narrator. Gin is aware of her impressions, but is careful not to turn her impressions into judgments. Now, is such a stance an evolved and wide stance, sensitive to the artist brother and everyone else? Or is it some willfully naïve stance, because the artist is the brother? In the end, the tale of Port Mungo offers no redemption of any sort that I can see, but frames things calmly in a terrifying way, because it frames them in truth. I think McGrath is looking you in the eye and telling you about your doom. This reader found that heartbreaking, especially since the writing is eloquent. Port Mungo is spell casting and doom ridden, but told in a calm and brilliant fashion. ------------ Email Brian Michael Barbeito: Brian1750@Hotmail.com Comment on this article here! ------------ All articles are EXCLUSIVE to Useless-Knowledge.com and are not allowed to be posted on other websites. ARTICLE THIEVES WILL BE PROSECUTED! |
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