Shrines of Gaiety by Kate Atkinson
Kate Atkinson’s new novel, Shrines of Gaiety, is a delightful, if slightly sprawling book that continues the themes of her previous work, Transcription. While not specifically related, both books are historical – Shrines is set in 1926 in the aftermath of the First World War in London and Transcription is set during the Second. Both novels explore the vicissitudes of life during such tumultuous periods, and the casualties inflicted by these conflicts not just upon the individuals on the battlefield but on those who were left behind, on the broader social fabric.
Shrines of Gaiety’s cast of characters is a large one. For me, the most compelling is Gwendolen, a former librarian now searching London with the aid of Detective Inspector John Frobisher for runaways Freda and Florence. Their prime suspects are the Coker family, headed by Nellie, who built a network of clubs that, if not illicit, certainly don’t abide by the book. Gwendolen, Frobisher, Freda, Nellie, and each of the Coker children have POV chapters, and each character is sympathetically drawn and richly detailed. Nellie’s is a story of working-class origins and through her building of a nightclub empire, she has risen through the echelons of society. Although there is only so far money can get you in feudal old England.
The downside to such a rich tapestry of characters is that I found myself distracted reading each finely detailed backstory. The level of information is almost Dickensian, or Austen-like. Yet with Austen, each cleverly remarked upon detail serves a holistic necessity that is missing from Shrines of Gaiety. Perhaps it is attempting to be too many different things. It is, however, a highly enjoyable novel and readers of Atkinson will appreciate returning to the author’s overarching themes. Atkinson, in a clear-eyed moment of self-awareness, outlines her project through aspiring novelist Ramsay Coker’s book: ‘a razor- sharp dissection of the various strata of society in the wake of the destruction of war’. And then, ‘(Ramsay was not without ambition)’. Atkinson is winking to the audience here and, I must say, I admire the gall and ambition.
