10.17.07
Stephen Benatar: Wish Her Safe at Home
This book came to my attention through a brief review in the Guardian recently. It’s a reissue of a 1982 novel, and though the publisher is Welbeck Modern Classics, that review suggests it’s the author himself who’s behind this facade. And what caught my eye was not just the promise of an unreliable narrator - I’m such a pushover - but the cover design. Well, now that Penguin don’t want their classy Modern Classics cover design any more, why shouldn’t someone else borrow it?
It’s difficult to know how much I can say about Wish Her Safe at Home without spoiling it, but as the reviews on the back and inside of the book make aspects of it pretty clear, I can at least go that far. It’s narrated by Rachel Waring, a forty-something woman who has inherited a house in Bristol. For those sensitive to the strains of the unreliable narrator, our ears prick up when we hear on page 2 that “actually your father did once mention a strain of insanity in his family.” And then there are the previous inhabitants of the house, Rachel’s great aunt and her companion Bridget:
When Bridget had committed suicide at the age of eighty-four, Aunt Alicia, ten years her senior, had gone on living in the same house with Bridget’s body: a state of affairs which had come to light only after two weeks…
Oh. Ah. And did I mention how much she identifies with Vivien Leigh as Blanche Dubois in A Streetcar Named Desire? So it comes as both a shock, and no surprise at all, when Rachel decides on visiting the rundown house that she intends to live there herself (”I felt as if I’d never had a real home”). And as she inhabits it, so it begins to inhabit her. In particular she becomes fascinated by a former occupant of the house, a minor 18th century abolitionist called Horatio Gavin. As her interest swerves toward obsession, and she begins writing his life, simultaneously her relations with other people - dare one say, real people - are increasingly irregular: “These days I didn’t appear to like anybody very much. Everywhere, it seemed, I sensed ulterior motives.”
Her dealings with her gardener (”nicely tanned and muscular”), chemist (”it came as no surprise that he should be the strong and silent type. That was the kind of man I often found attractive”) and vicar (”He’d almost surely have a hairy chest”) are not always, well, regular, but now I really have reached the point where I can’t go any further for fear of spoiling it. The progression of the story in any event is not that surprising, but what Benatar has done which is remarkable is in the creation of Rachel’s voice and character. Eccentric, flaky, dotty, she is never unsympathetic or tiresome, and the skittishness of her movement from present to past is not just in keeping with the workings of her mind, but positively touching in its slow revelation of how the past infects the present. She is so alive and real that for a moment I was about to refer to the author as she.
Rachel’s need for a home and her sense of dislocation is beautifully done, and the book - to slip into reviewerly cliche - really is by turns funny, affecting and unnerving. If the outcome and storyline do not overwhelm by surprise, nonetheless the journey is increasingly pleasurable while it lasts. Benatar has given self-publishing a boon by bringing Wish Her Safe at Home back into print, and it might even show that one character’s faith in an unfair world is misplaced: “He must have thought that nothing could get any worse. But he should have listened to William Shakespeare, shouldn’t he? Things can always get worse.”
Tony S. said,
Thursday, 18 October 2007 at 2:08 pm
“funny, affecting and unnerving” - these are the qualities of a novel that I most appreciate. Sort of reminds me of “Bliss” by A.L. Kennedy, although none of her other books have done much for me. I hope I can find this novel by Stephen Benatar in the US, but suspect I won’t. .
jem said,
Thursday, 18 October 2007 at 4:55 pm
I like the sound of this one. Will add to my list. Unreliable narrators are so appealling - I feel I can relate to them better!
Jenny said,
Thursday, 18 October 2007 at 7:47 pm
I also saw the short review in The Guardian and it’s on my wishlist. I hadn’t seen the cover before - fantastic! It sounds like a goodie, glad you’ve reviewed it.
John Self said,
Friday, 19 October 2007 at 2:42 pm
Yes Jenny, the cover doesn’t seem to be on show in the usual places (Amazon etc). I had to scan my own copy in. An Asylum exclusive!
Beth said,
Saturday, 20 October 2007 at 2:14 am
Tony S., I just bought it from amazon marketplace. It won’t be the good cover, but it’s the good story! And here in the states to boot!
John Murphy said,
Saturday, 20 October 2007 at 10:59 am
Hello all,
I’m Stephen’s partner and ‘creator’/designer of the cover of ‘Wish Her Safe at Home’. I’ll not say anything here about how in other ways I helped to bring this book to fruition…what doesn’t kill one makes one stronger!
A few things:
The book had been seriously considered for reissue as a Penguin Modern Classic. However, Penguin finally decided that - whilst they very much liked the book - it hadn’t sold sufficiently well first time around, and they were worried reissuing it would prove an injudicious investment. As John Carey had by this time come on board, having very generously agreed to provide an Introduction (he was Chairman of the Booker Panel in 1982, when the book just missed the short-list), Stephen decided to self-publish the book. It must be said that his primary motivation is to keep his work ‘alive’, not to refill his recently-emptied coffers! Such is his desire to disseminate his work, he’s been working tirelessly to promote the book - on many weekends he can be found manning a store in Hampstead Community Centre. (This week he’s done a signing session in Harrods and today you can find him at Waterstone’s, 150-152 King’s Road, Chelsea, London, SW3. Indeed, I’ve just helped him down to the Tube station with boxes of books in sports bags. Go along: he’s very affable and is always happy to chat about his writing.)
This is actually a revised version of the original novel. Stephen decided – on re-reading the original – it required some tightening up. Having read the original several times and the new version many more than several times, I can say that the new version has more solidity…in a good way!
The statue on the cover (which features in the novel) is the ‘Street Orderly Boy’ by Donato Barcaglia of Milan (1849-1930) and is based in Paddington Street Recreation Gardens, Marylebone. As a boy, Stephen lived in the nearby Marylebone High Street and would often sit reading near to the statue. Book lovers take note: the High Street is home to Daunt Books bookshop - an Edwardian delight of a bookshop and well worth a visit. Stephen was fortunately able to launch his book there.
Should anyone wish to purchase a copy of the book from Stephen directly (inscriptions optional), please e-mail me at: murphyjf@hotmail.co.uk. We’ll endeavour to turn around any orders a.s.a.p.
A big thank you to John Self for doing his bit for the cause!
Cheers,
John
Tony S. said,
Sunday, 21 October 2007 at 3:38 am
Beth,
Thanks for the Amazon tip. I really appreciate it!
Tony
Sarah said,
Tuesday, 23 October 2007 at 10:29 pm
I don’t know if this is anything to do with anything but last week I bought the book in Harrods and met the author - what a lovely man! Very charming and beautifully dressed - you have to love a man in a neckerchief! (And I’m enjoying the book very much - so if you haven’t bought it yet, you really should!)
John Self said,
Tuesday, 23 October 2007 at 10:51 pm
Hi Sarah, thanks for dropping by. Quink, a sometime commenter on this blog, also bought the book from the author in a bookshop and had a very pleasant chat with him, I understand.
Thanks too to John Murphy above for his fascinating insight into the process. How shortsighted of Penguin to worry about the book not selling well enough - don’t they realise there are lots of readers like me who buy books specifically because they’re Penguin Modern Classics? I’ve lost count of the great writers I’ve discovered that way.
Quink said,
Monday, 29 October 2007 at 11:06 am
I bought this book on the basis of a chance meeting with the author in a ten-minute visit to my local Waterstone’s, looking, hurriedly as usual, for the out-of-range and the out-of-stock. The very fact that I still go to Waterstone’s is a vestige of the belief that once upon a time they met my reading needs, and, as with all bookshops – well, you never know, they may just have it. They rarely do. But at least they have first refusal.
I noticed Stephen Benatar in the bookstore moments before he approached me and could see I was next in his catchment. I admired his public and gentle confidence (and the red neckerchief) in walking a bookstore informing browsers who he was and why he was in there, and that he would happily sign the book should they wish to buy it. I bought it quickly, the speed of my decision clearly to his surprise, on the basis of the blurb and quotes on the back, the name John Carey, and Carey’s last paragraph in his introduction. And Stephen’s public and gentle confidence.
But it was chance, and happy chance at that. It brought me a wonderful piece of fiction. Written twenty-five years ago by a man, I guess, in his early thirties, it is a brave imagining of an older woman, love starved and virginal, going publicly and privately mad. Rachel Waring’s break from London, and from her über-realistic Londoner flatmate – the wonderful creation of Sylvia – is the beginning of her break from reality. Before Rachel moves through the gradations of disconnection, her story opens with her off-kilter levity and at this point in the narrative who would challenge her thought: “Wouldn’t it be fine if we all had second chances ?” (p.15) Stephen Benatar’s accomplishment is that we don’t challenge her, that we are with her all of the way to the sadness of an inevitability she cannot know.
The milestones of her madness are well paced: on p.76 she lays out the second flute for her dinner for one; on p.89 comes the first “we” as she conflates her mind’s personae; and from then on it is the ring, the dress, wedlock and … of course … conception.
Disturbingly, for the reader, the moments of lucidity are frightening, as if she was suffering the horror of Multi-Infarct Dementia (the one where, in brief moments of screaming, you realise you are going mad). Just before the first “we”, the already-noted: “A charmed life that carried a curse ? Or a cursed life that carried a charm ?” (p.88). But going on one sentence: “In short, I knew neither what sort of person I really was, nor how well I fitted in.” So, there was – then – an awareness, of a sort ……..
How does a writer convey the interior of a character’s mind as the character goes mad ? I think Benatar, by means of fictional possibilities, rather than neurology dressed as fiction, succeeds creditably. His employment of anachronistic language (the Austenesque conversations with the Allsops), and obsolete idiom (gay, gaiety and all its variations and frequent placements), are examples which effect the transition from sanity to insanity. Added to which is the music hall optimism of the song fragments.
Benatar does not ignore the sane comedy of Rachel’s madness - in the letter to the bank manager (one that many of us wish we could have written, especially with that crossed-out and substituted final word), and the numerous “Badedas” scenarios. And he also gives us a glimpse of the real world transacting with Rachel, the purchase of the wedding dress being a glimpse of the chilling humour of the two worlds existing in the same destabilising moment. The visit of Sylvia, earlier in the book, is one which the reader is yearning to take place, hoping that neither Sylvia or Rachel finds an excuse to avoid it. And the disconnection is there in the mundane when Rachel comments that, in spite of the continuous rain during Sylvia’s visit, “We’ve had a lovely summer.” To which the Sylvia of dogged reality replies: “Strange – when the rest of the country seems to have one of the coldest on record.”
The last twenty pages record the final descent, and you know from the point when “two of their most important editors” join her on the park bench “one on either side” that her physical freedom is at an end. It was always going to be a tricky ending and Benatar pulls it off … just, and to his credit.
In justice to the book, I ignored Carey’s introduction until I had finished it. He commented that Stephen Benatar’s wonderful fiction does not comply to a commonplace distillation of fictional narrative. Isn’t that the case with the best that fiction has to offer ? When fiction is brave ?
Bravo, Mr Benatar.
Shame on Penguin for not giving it an immediately wider audience. But good on the admirable Professor Carey for having the honesty to openly address past meekness, a trait I would never have imagined for one of our best critics.
Q
Quink said,
Tuesday, 30 October 2007 at 2:31 pm
I have a question for John (Murphy, not Self), if he comes back to the blog:
Q: What was the genesis of the title ?
Q
John Self said,
Tuesday, 30 October 2007 at 3:06 pm
Good Q, Q. And excellent account of the book too, above. Thanks.
Stephen Benatar said,
Tuesday, 30 October 2007 at 4:56 pm
My grateful thanks to everyone who has contributed to the discussion on Wish Her Safe at Home, especially to John Self and Quink - both of your reviews have been really insightful and enlightening. Little did I think at the signing sessions that I was meeting people who would be so kind as to air their thoughts in this way - I feel I would like to have given you a hug! I truly do appreciate all the interest that’s been shown.
As to the genesis of the title, the book was originally going to be called Leave Her to Heaven (although there was already a film which had used this quotation) but I was scared that if the dust jacket wasn’t right this would give off a distinct whiff of Mills & Boon. I’ve always liked titles that have more than one meaning and Wish Her Safe at Home could equally convey Rachel’s long-held desire to find her place in heaven. It was a title that took me a long time to arrive at and I was happy to find that lots of people thought this might have come from Shakespeare too!
Should you be interested, the following recently appeared in the local free paper:
http://www.thecnj.co.uk/review/2007/102507/books102507_03.html
If anyone has any futher questions or would like in any way to discuss the book with me, I’d be delighted to hear from you.
Again, all this has been much appreciated.
Stephen
John Self said,
Wednesday, 31 October 2007 at 12:57 pm
Thanks for your enlightening contribution, Stephen.
If anyone has any questions or comments for Stephen Benatar about the book, I am happy for people to post them here.
Mary Cavanagh said,
Wednesday, 14 November 2007 at 3:28 pm
Dear John - I’m a genuine author (I’m not a crank - I can be googled!) and a good friend of Dovegrey and Random Jottings. Please could you forward this note to Stephen Benatar. Many thanks, Mary Cavanagh
Dear Stephen
I am a fellow author. My first novel, The Crowded Bed, was published by Transita ISBN 9781905175314 in January 2007. I have been carrying out my own onslaught of self-publicity since publication nine months ago. Although it’s been great fun it’s also been hard work. I am so impressed with your Waterstone’s pitch! I have recently joined forces with the best selling author, Caro Fraser. Caro (formerly with Penguin) has just self-published her seventh book in the wonderful Caper Court series with Matador. Consequently she too, for the first time, is doing all her own publicity. We are thus a team from two opposing areas - I am a newbie but legitimately published - she’s a best seller but self-published. We have a great deal of advice and experience to pass on and we are producing a series of articles called ‘Seriously Useful Publicity and Marketing Advice For Authors’. Currently the articles are going up on Caro’s blogsite, http://www.caro-fraser.com/blog If you scroll down to September 24th you will come to the first one - ‘The Introduction’. So far I have done ‘The Book Launch’ and ‘Writing a Press Release’. ‘Libraries’ will be put up soon. We are hoping to reach as many authors as possible as everyone these days (apart from a handful of stars) needs to be their own marketing manager
I am writing to ask you if you would like to write a small piece on your adventures to include in the article ‘BookShops and Retail Outlets’. It would be a great honour to have your imput. I’m so looking forward to reading your book - sounds just my thing. If we can have some dialogue I can tell you a bit more about the proposed publication.
marycavanagh@btinternet.com
With best wishes
Mary Cavanagh
John Self said,
Wednesday, 14 November 2007 at 4:13 pm
Mary, I have sent your email on to the address which Stephen Benatar used when he posted his comment above.
Stewart said,
Wednesday, 14 November 2007 at 11:58 pm
John Murphy said above:
Well, I went that route and my copy arrived today. Just to allay any fears anyone may have about obtaining a copy that way. I now look forward to reading it shortly.
kimbofo said,
Sunday, 18 November 2007 at 7:03 pm
After reading your review and all the comments here, I’m going to have to get a copy of this book now — and just when I’d decided to curtail my book acquisitions because I have more unread than read lying about this apartment! I’ve really got to stop reading your blog, John, as you are responsible for making my wishlist treble in size recently.
debra said,
Tuesday, 11 December 2007 at 10:30 pm
Today I found myself one of those people lucky enough to meet stephen benetar when he started speaking to me on the northern line and asked me to buy his book. I said I would look him up so I did and perhaps I will give it a read..!
John Self said,
Tuesday, 11 December 2007 at 11:32 pm
Heheh, I didn’t realise he had begun approaching people on public transport, debra! I saw my local Waterstone’s were stocking a single copy today - better than nothing I guess.
If anyone was at the Benatar/John Carey discussion at Waterstone’s Greenwich this evening, please post your thoughts.
debra said,
Wednesday, 12 December 2007 at 12:22 am
Yes, he did try to get me to go to greenwich as he was worried only one or two would turn up, but I hope he had a full house…
John Murphy said,
Tuesday, 18 December 2007 at 11:34 am
Due to a mix up with the booking, the event didn’t actually go ahead. I do hope nobody had a wasted journey. It’s going to be rescheduled for the New Year. I’ll provide information, as it becomes available. Merry Christmas!
Sarah said,
Tuesday, 18 December 2007 at 2:36 pm
Yeah, definitely say when the discussion has a new date, hopefully will be able to make it. Merry Christmas Stephen & John & John (and everyone else!) x
John Self said,
Wednesday, 19 December 2007 at 12:40 pm
And the same to you Sarah, and to John and Stephen… and all other readers of Wish Her Safe at Home and of this blog too!
Sheila Redden said,
Sunday, 23 December 2007 at 3:26 pm
What a delightful read. I feel fortunate to have heard about this here! While the tragedy of Rachel’s unwinding did move me, I found the good humor of her “journey” added just the right note to her characterization and made for a deliciously compelling read (though I had an inkling of her outcome from the start). I stayed up way too late last night just to finish the novel, all because of Benatar’s inventiveness!
John Self said,
Sunday, 23 December 2007 at 4:01 pm
Thanks for your comment Sheila. I take it you’re a fan of Brian Moore’s books too, with that name…?
Bethan Wakeling said,
Friday, 25 January 2008 at 6:46 pm
I just finished ‘Wish Her Safe At Home’ today and have to agree with everyone who says that it is a truly marvellous book. Originally published the year of my birth , I doubt I would have ever heard of this gem had it not been for Mr Benatar approaching my sister in Waterstones, just before Christmas, and convincing her that this book (once signed) would make the ideal present for me. I am utterly grateful to him for having saved me from yet another ghastly 3-for-2-table purchase and am certain that this novel will stay with me for a long time (and I’ll be sure to recommend it to family and friends)
Hurrah for self-publishing and red neckerchiefs!
Bethan
John Self said,
Friday, 25 January 2008 at 7:02 pm
Great story, Bethan! Glad you liked the book. Mr B really is a one-man whirlwind isn’t he? Maybe the high street bookshops could take him on permanently, and reverse their ailing fortunes…
Lynette said,
Monday, 28 January 2008 at 2:14 am
I met Stephen by chance earlier, during an impromptu visit to Waterstone’s in Camden. He seemed a very charming man indeed!
I hadn’t realised that the book was first published 25 years ago and it’s very admirable (in this age of the Richard and Judy book club!) that it has been self-published this time around. I think I was initially sold to the idea of buying the book when I read The Observer’s review on the back cover: ‘A remarkably odd and chilling story’.
I look forward to reading this novel!
Lynette
Stuart said,
Thursday, 31 January 2008 at 5:59 pm
I’m fortunate enough to have met Stephen in the Camden Town branch of Waterstones. And I subsequently walked home with an autographed copy of ‘Wish Her Safe At Home’. I confess I’ve yet to read it (the encounter was less than a week ago), but if it’s anywhere near as charming as the author, I’m sure I’ll love it. Stephen, thanks for helping me with my coat and, if memory serves, best of luck with the discussions in NYC!
John Self said,
Thursday, 31 January 2008 at 10:51 pm
Thanks for visiting, Lynette and Stuart - I hope you’ll return to share your thoughts on the novel once you’ve read it.
Benjamin Serna said,
Saturday, 2 February 2008 at 1:04 am
today i went to borders in holborn, and i met Stephen Benatar.. to be honest i didn´t know he was the writer.. i was looking for a book and someone came with me and asked me.. would you like to try this book and i said okey i will have a look.. i read some parts of the book and said oo its good thank you.. and the man was Stephen .. he is a very nice person i will start the book tomorrow.. if the book is like the writer i think will be so good
Kirsty said,
Tuesday, 11 March 2008 at 1:08 pm
Excellent insights from the author and partner! These, the original post, and the flurry of comments has convinced me to purchase myself a copy.
Who said blogs don’t sell books?