Across 14 chapters, we chronologically follow the fortunes of George, from age 12 through to almost 40. George is an unlikeable character and we should be thankful that he is a fictional creation, because in real life no one would tolerate his deliberate and calculating cruelty.
Early on, we are told “His goal in life was to be authentic, no matter the consequences.” But to reach almost 40 and still be tone-deaf to the feelings of others is quite a stretch, even for someone who’s made up.
Kate Greathead’s first novel, Laura & Emma, about a single mother raising her daughter in upper-class New York society, was generally well received. The author was part of the American version of the celebrated British documentary series Up. Called Seven Up!, 7 plus Seven, Fourteen Up! and so on in the UK, where it continues. In the US, the series was called Age 7 in America and followed the participants up to age 21. This chronological sequencing of life seems to have followed the author into her fiction.
At 22, George gets his first job, as a waiter. The results are inevitable. After two weeks, his boss sums up his performance: “You’re a terrible waiter. The worst I’ve ever had. If you weren’t good looking, I’d have fired you yesterday.” But searching for any kind of positive, this is where George meets his first girlfriend, Jenny. They become an item, more or less, on and off, for the next 10 years.
George takes her for granted, treats her badly and is completely self-obsessed. His ability to think only of himself when Jenny is looking for any form of reassurance or support is often painful. At one point, she berates him with a brutal character assassination: “‘Are you going to say anything?’ Jenny asked. ‘You can defend yourself.
George spoke after a silence. ‘You make a lot of valid points.’
‘Is that all?’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘You deserve better.’”
Jenny leaves him, but a year and a half later, when George develops what he believes to be herpes, he rings Jenny to blame her and they get back together.
Nothing is really smooth in their relationship, and one night, after an unhealthy amount of alcohol, they start to have a similar conversation. “All her fears and insecurities about their relationship came out in a torrent of tears and accusations, and there was nothing George could say or do to reassure her. It didn’t help that many of her concerns were warranted or resonated with George as questions he’d asked himself.”
According to the back cover of the novel, “We all know a George”. But do we really know someone who can be so oblivious to the impact they have and so uncaring about how they talk to those they profess to love? Would they remain in that same state for 20 years or would they begin to learn something about themselves and begin to make a few changes?
This is where the novel lets itself down. George doesn’t change, for better or worse, at any point throughout book. His behaviour isn’t comic enough to make us laugh or to really like him. Nor is it enough to make him feel genuine.
After George has finally split from Jenny for good, he meets Carrie at a party. He used to know her at college and, thankfully, she calls him out about his behaviour. “You need to get over yourself, George. You have this Eeyore affect going on, you act all pathetic and self-loathing but you’re actually extremely egotistical.” It is refreshing to hear someone call his behaviour for what it is, even if it is too late in the book to save us from too much of the same thing.
There are one or two nice touches. At college, George is known for his uproarious impersonation of a clinically depressed penis going through airport security, but when he is asked to perform the same impersonation at a party 13 years later, unsurprisingly no one appears to find it funny any more.
At one point, he starts to write a novel, but 50 pages later he has started something new, in which he repurposes his college philosophy thesis to stand in for a character stream of consciousness dialogue.
As Greathead skips through the chapters and the years, she deploys a useful technique: hooking the reader into the next phase, before catching us up with the back story. It is rather like checking to see that the reader is still awake, throwing in something that doesn’t quite fit with the story or chronology and then going back to explain the time warp.
The Book of George, by Kate Greathead (Atlantic, $36.99), is out now.
