Morrow, 2005, $25.95
reviewed
in Interzone 199, August 2005


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One never approaches a novel by John
Crowley with works by other authors in mind. But the recreation of a novel by a
historical character surely recalls The Iron Heel, Adolf Hitler’s fantasy
novel as concocted by Norman Spinrad; a work in which annotations by another
hand shift the perspective has been employed in Pale Fire by Vladimir
Nabokov and House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski; a story partly told
in the exchange of emails by academics is a feature of Ash by Mary
Gentle. I could go on. But the moment you start reading Lord Byron’s Novel
all such comparisons fall away. He has managed to create out of seeming
well-trodden territory a book that is, as ever with Crowley, sui generis.
Let us begin, as we must, with Lord Byron’s
novel itself. Without being an expert on Byron it is impossible to say how
precise Crowley’s ventriloquism is, but he has caught dashing high romanticism
perfectly. This is pure Gothick, a highly coloured tale of zombies and
doppelgangers, of gloomy Scottish castles and exotic foreign shores, of escapes
from death, of lost loves, of dramatic reversals of fortune. Our hero, Ali, the
Albanian bastard of an English milord who delights in his villainy, is falsely
accused of his father’s murder, rescued by smugglers, caught up in Wellington’s
war in Spain, returns to London high society, is tricked into a loveless
marriage, pursued by a doppelganger, and finally after a duel is forced to flee
to the continent.
After Byron’s death, the manuscript finds
its way back to England and into the hands of his daughter, Ada Lovelace. She
destroys it to suit the wishes of her mother, but only after encoding it in
proto-computer code for Babbage’s Analytical Engine. In the last weeks of her
life, she also annotates the novel, notes which chart both her decline and her
relationship with the father she was never allowed to know.
Around this is an exchange of emails
involving the researcher who discovers the papers, her lesbian lover who cracks
the code, and her estranged father who edits the newly discovered novel. Her
father is a once-renowned Byron scholar that she hasn’t seen since he fled
justice after raping a young girl, and in their rediscovered relationship the
story of Byron and Ada is subtly mirrored and even more subtly resolved.
Without doubt the best novel of the year. Yet,
like all of Crowley’s books over the last 20 years, it will probably not be
published here. Tragic! |