Customer Reviews

If Nobody Speaks of Remarkable Things

5 star:		(15)
4 star:		(8)
3 star:		(4)
2 star:		(3)
1 star:		(3)

 

 

What a simple, beautiful book. The most unique aspect of this story is the split narrative the author uses. The bulk of the book is spent in various flats on a suburban street in London. Over the course of one day we're let into the minds of the various tenents, their hopes, their fears, and their desires, as the narrative steams like a freight train to a tragedy that we know has happened at the start of the book, but don't know what it is until the end. The other narrative is told first person by a girl who was living there when the tragic event occurs, and the action shifts focus between past and present.
It's interesting to read that some of the other reviewers read the book in one sitting or close to it, because that's essentially what I did as well. The book demands a certain amount of attention from the reader because the author has dispensed with names and obvious physical discriptions for characters unless it holds relevence to what's going on with them emotionally.Consequently characters are referred to as: 'The young man in room 18'. or. 'the boy in room 17', but surprisingly this device only adds to the potency of the writing and made for me a more moving reading experience.

When I, a nonwriter, read a book, one of the mental games I play is to ask myself if I would be proud to have written it. The answer with this book is that no one but Jon McGregor could have written this spectacular work. It feels more like poetry than prose, more like dream than reality.
McGregor's characters have no names. They are like neighbors that you see in passing and may remember something about, some more than others, but never really know. While the Remarkable Thing referred to in the title at first appears to be an accident witnessed by these characters, it soon becomes apparent that there are many things of which nobody speaks--love, death, fear, grief. This failure to tell the things that matter to the people that matter leaves everyone bereft. Only at the end does the protagonist start to speak and to listen, and the book ends on a note of hope.
McGregor uses repetitive thems in his imagery, including fire and water, birds, mirrors, and the mirror images that are twins. In particular, he focuses on the twins to represent continuity and hope.
There are scenes that have the surreal feeling of dreamscapes--flowers growing in a burned-out townhouse, people racing down the street in office chairs.
This is a book to read for the sheer joy of the language, the structure, and the poetry. It is truly a remarkable thing.

The book is less a novel, (not that it matters, but don't expect one if looking for that sort of read.) It's more a lengthy poem or a novella -- I see it more as a musical tone poem. Declarative sentences of beautiful, sensitive construction build and awaken our eyes to an awakening day in London. The first few pages are stunningly strong and while all the book doesn't maintain this pitch, indeed no living person could, we don't particularily worry because at ever turn of a page is a new discovery.

Reading it in one shot is to be overwhelmed in the way watching the entire ring cycle or mahabarrata (sp?) would overwhelm. I enjoyed it over a series of nights, taking my time, and the language seeped into my dreams. It's a dreamlike work, and one any contemporary writer should check out both for it's strength and structure.

The strength of this book lies in its profound attention to detail. The reader is able to place him/herself directly in the story due to the author's subtle choice of which details to include and which to leave out. The writing is nothing short of masterful; it's simple, but by no stretch of the imagination is it simplistic, as another reviewer would have us believe. I picked up a copy in an English bookstore in Prague because the title caught my eye, and I was instantly hooked. I feel sorry for the reviewers who have given this a low rating due to being bored while reading. I suppose those readers should remain in their fast-paced MTV-music-video lifestyle, but life's little details will pass them by.

This book is definitely worth taking a look at. Don't miss the connection between title and plot. Nobody spoke, so the only person who understands the remarkability of these events is the reader. Quite profound.

This amazing, beautifully crafted first novel chronicles one day in the life of a British neighborhood, interspersed with segments that flash forward in the life of one of its residents. McGregor builds a complex portrait out of details, and it wasn't until I finished reading that I realized we never learn most of their names! One of my favorite books of 2003.

Poetic, inventive, and somewhat jolting. I wouldn't call this book a "novel." It is far more poetry than prose, exuding a surrealistic quality that was, at times, unsettling. The offbeat rhythm, the searing observations, and the pain fascinated me. Even during the passages that seemed confusing, I found the confusion to be perfectly executed.

This is one of the most remarkale books I have ever read. I've never encountered this writing style anywhere else - if anyone knows of another author who writes in a similar vein, please share.
I couldn't read this book initially. I was confused about what I was rading. After a second or third attempt, it clicked in to place, and I was off. I couldn't wait to get home from work to read more, and I digested it in a few days, despite only ahveing a few hours of down time each week.

I don't think McGregor even needs a story. There were story elements in this book, and the story was fine. But I think I would be happy just to read his descriptions of events and characters in the street, without end.

My only disappointment was that, at the time of reading, he had written no other books.

I'm currently reading his book 'So Many Ways To Begin', and that too is haunting and dream-like.

I highly recommend Jon McGregor's writing.

This book is just amazing -- I couldn't put it down. Beautiful, poetic writing, interesting characters, and a vivid and tragic ending. Reminded me of the film Lost In Translation -- nothing much happens but everything happens, and the same type of young, somewhat lost protagonists searching for some sort of fulfillment. I can't wait to read his next book.

If you start into this book looking for a conventional, plot-driven story, you might be disappointed. This is more like a motion picture put in words, exquisitely recording one summer day in the life of one unremarkable neighborhood in Northern England. As you watch the various residents going through their day from earliest morning until late afternoon, you also get to peek inside their hearts and minds and histories.

Most of the characters are never named, but as the author gradually unveils them on this ordinary day, they become real and vivid and sometimes heartbreakingly lovable. I was especially touched by the tenderness of the old couple who had married just before the husband went off to war. I confess, I was blubbering when he came back from the war and his wife said, "There's no need to shout. I'm standing right behind you."

This book is event driven rather than plot driven. The one day described here is a day that leads up to an event that all of the characters will witness. The book-long buildup to the event does get exasperating at times, so impatient readers beware.

Alternating with the day's progression is a second component of the narrative. One of the witnesses to "the event" describes her life three years after that day. Uncomfortable circumstances in her present life have caused her to reflect on what she witnessed and how it has affected her life since then.

Given the amazing buildup, the book's conclusion is somewhat wimpy and also sort of freaky. So don't hold your breath for a "shocking" ending. Read it for the intimacy with the characters and for the author's extraordinary powers of description.

Remarkable things do occur in a single block and they are sensational in their simplicity. Characters without a name, only traits that distinguish them... it reminded me of my afternoons behind the curtains of my window looking down in the street where I grew up.