Read: July 2010Master Georgie in one tweet-sized chunk:Short and apparently simple, Master Georgie is an enjoyable snapshot of lives and the Crimean War.It is a rare delight to encounter a book of such apparent simplicity as Master Georgie. The narration – split between three voices – is compelling and smooth, the prose wonderfully uncluttered. It is overloaded neither with explicit themes or complicated ideas. There is no sense of a writer trying to be clever. Master Georgie is storytelling of the finest order.And yet I use the phrase ‘apparent simplicity’ advisedly, for the simplicity of style masks a cunningly composed narrative which questions how one can ever know something simply by looking at it. In Master Georgie, Beryl Bainbridge confronts the reader with an oddly compelling statement: you cannot know these characters.When war breaks out in the Crimea George Hardy, surgeon and photographer, sets off to provide whatever services he can offer in support of the British effort. With him travel his adoptive sister Myrtle, amateur geologist Dr Potter and photographer’s assistant and fire-eater Pompey Jones. The narration is split between them, starting in the cold back streets of 19th century Liverpool, travelling through sweltering Constantinople and on to the battlefields of the Crimea. As each seeks to shed light on Master Georgie (as Myrtle terms him) a picture begins to develop of everyone but him. He remains the dark spot on the plate.The Crimean War was the first to be extensively documented by photography and one gets the impression that Bainbridge spent a great deal of time searching for inspiration for her characters by looking at these pictures, only to come up with more questions than answers. That is how the book reads: a snapshot of a long dead, anonymous person who can never be resurrected, not even through literature. Master Georgie is all about what lurks beneath the surface of a photograph: the context, facets of themselves people choose to hide from the world, the misinterpretations that people ascribe to surface images. At one point a fellow character enquires as to why Myrtle often looks sad. “It’s the way I am on the outside”, she replies. “Inside, I assure you I’m quite happy.” This seems to sum up Master Georgie nicely.There is an element of satire here, too. There are two targets for this: specifically the bombast of Tennyson’s ‘Charge of the Light Brigade’ and generally those who gallantly march off at the first hint of war assuming victory. It reminded me very much of The Siege of Krishnapur by J.G. Farrell with its portrayal of out of place Britishness, a pompous sense of worth that is never fully punctured, even while confronted by death, disease and defeat. There are some absurdly funny moments. The wealthy British bring trunk -loads of possessions and are accompanied as far as the Constantinople by their spouses and children as though for a bit of a summer jaunt. There is a funny scene when, having arrived in Constantinople, they go to the opera only for it to descend into a brawl over a perceived indiscretion towards Myrtle.The satire is not biting though, and surrounding it is a tender portrayal of life, war and the consequences of our actions. Like the best war books, one comes away feeling that it was all so bloody pointless.Yet none of this is to say that Master Georgie is an easy book. It is slippery, never quite giving the reader what one wants or expects. The drama is quiet, unassuming. Some of the supposedly dramatic aspects – particularly the shared and mysterious guilt the synopsis promises – didn’t really resonate with me at all. The prime feeling I came away with was puzzlement: I knew I had enjoyed the prose and the journey without really engaging with any of the characters; without being able to identify why. Others I know have reacted to it with utter indifference. Yet the fact remains that I enjoyed reading it, and it continues to challenge and interest me a month later. This was my first Beryl Bainbridge novel but I’m certainly going to read more by her in the coming months.7 out of 10
An interesting historical novel which won loads of prizes and accolades and is a brief and straightforward read. Bainbridge uses the medium of photography to hang the novel on; six photographic plates. The first two plates are set in Liverpool in 1846 and 1850 and the rest in 1854 in the Crimea.The Master Georgie of the title is George Hardy, a surgeon and amateur photographer. His story is told alternately by three other characters. Myrtle is a foundling brought up by the Hardy’s after being found by George. The exact circumstances are unclear, but Myrtle idolises George. By 1854, when Myrtle is 20, they have a sexual relationship, despite George’s marriage. Dr Potter is married to George’s sister Beatrice and is a Geologist; he is verbose and a little pompous, but does notice things. The last narrator is Pompey Jones initially a street urchin who crosses George’s path a number of times and by 1854 he is a photographer’s assistant in the Crimea. He is straight out of Dickens, overcoming his humble beginnings. George is a complex character who is attracted to women and men and has the associated Victorian guilt in large amounts. Both Pompey and Myrtle have been on the receiving end of his attentions. The different narrative voices don’t disrupt the flow and it is interesting to have the change of perspective on a regular basis. There are some points made by the author. At the beginning of the novel it seems that fate and destiny are in some degree under the control of those with some power and privilege. By the end with the horror and carnage of the Crimean war it is clear events are completely random. The satirical aspect is also clear. Tennyson glorified aspects of the campaign, remember the poem The Charge of the Light Brigade; there is no glorification here as we see what surrounds the occupation of surgeon. There is also a caricature of the British abroad with wander around the Crimean peninsula as though it was a Sunday School outing, and, of course the sheer stupidity of war is there for all to see. There is also a blurring of memory. When George is drunk and makes a pass at Pompey Jones, early in the book, their later recollections are very different and Bainbridge makes the point that we all construct our own past history. This is a deceptive novel which seems quite simple, but has a number twists and turns and it could easily be managed on a wet afternoon
Do You like book Master Georgie (1999)?
Brilliant. I am ashamed to say that I had never read any Beryl Bainbridge before but I certainly will again. A great example of a wonderful plot enhanced by a literary device. Not only does the plot and characterization unfold and progress as each chapter is told from the first-person perspective of a different person but also the events and devastation of the Crimean War are opened and examined for us. This book was of particular interest to me for the spotlight it put not only on a period and event in history but also of the dawning of a new age; focussing on a period and making reference to a development that has grown in my consciousness through my current job. By naming chapters after 'plates', considering through this, and the centrality in the plot, of the birth of photography as a technology, a documentary tool, and an artistic medium, Bainbridge demonstrates her grasp of history and humanity. Read this, look at the photographs of Roger Fenton and marvel at Bainbridge's storytelling as she reveals to you how our histories, our times, and our dedications can drive us to places and happenings we could never have imagined.
—Emma
I never read the cover of a book before I start it because I don't like anything to be given away, but maybe this is one case where I should have. I found the first two chapters wonderfully engrossing, but just didn't enjoy it once they went to war, and was disappointed to find that the tale never returned to England. Perhaps I wouldn't have approached it with such anticipation if I'd known, for example, that the book would be "Striking . . . in its companionable alliance between wry, deadpan humor and nightmarish horror" - as per the New York Times Book Review. For the most part I enjoyed the portions narrated by Myrtle and Pompey, but I couldn't stand Dr Potter and didn't much enjoy the chapters from his perspective.There's lots I could say about the book, since Beryl Bainbridge is clearly an incredibly talented writer and this was a very well-crafted novel, but I think I'll just file it under "appreciated but didn't enjoy" and leave it at that.
—Caleigh
Must read again.Beryl Bainbridge said (possibly tongue in cheek), that most people needed to read this book three times before they understood it. Well I read it once, too quickly probably, and definitely feel I didn't understand it. Unless, of course, that is the point (which would be why Bainbridge might have had her tongue in her cheek).Calling the six parts (chapters) of the book "plates" might be a clue. At the time in which the novel (novella?) is set, photography was in its infancy, and what we call "photographs" were then called "plates". The "plates" in the book were narrated/written/made/photographed by three different narrators, a technique which is always confusing, as, particularly in a novel this short, the reader is continually working out who says what, the relationships get differing perspectives and we frequently have to re-appraise both plot and perspectives.One aspect that is unmissable is the horror of war and the shallowness and hypocrisy of 19th Century British colonialism. Which sounds like two things, except that they are connected. Colonialism was only possible through either threatened or, in most cases, actual violence. The depiction of war here holds no bars - it is graphic, bloody and shown to be every bit as gory, mechanical and inhuman as the "First World War" that it preceded. Colonialism is shown up as the murderous ego-trip of the rich few at the tragic expense of the poor, oppressed many.Another element that struck me as important was that of chance and destiny. "Perhaps chance and destiny are interdependent, in that the latter cannot be fulfilled without the casual intervention of the former. A craggy rock placed at a distance from water will never be worn smooth." We can't help who we meet or often what effect that meeting will have on the rest of our lives. (view spoiler)[Myrtle is in love with her "brother", has children by him. Yet his indifference to her turns her into a victim for the rest of her life. (view spoiler)[All the relationships in this puzzling book are unrequited, imbalanced and destined to cause suffering - both the ones between individuals (marriages), and the collective ones (when nations meet and one represses the other). A bleak view of things, though perhaps one that the author means more as a critique of closed, blinkered and repressive Victorian sexuality and openly racist political thinking than one that applies to all of life. In those days, all sex was dirty, and the world outside England was inferior and it was perfectly acceptable to exploit it for the benefit of few (and, straight-faced, call it and actually believe it to be "civilizing the world"). Both loving relationships between individual people and political balance between nations have seen changes (improvements?) since. I think.But our view of these things is always obscured by the fact that values were entirely different. Like looking at old photographs of people you've never met, it's impossible to form a clear image (excuse the pun - though it was intentional) of events. Rather like writing: there are many layers of perception between reality and the representation of it. At best it is a dim image - "through a glass, darkly."So perhaps the novella is deliberately obscure. I'm only guessing, though. Which is the main point of reading, I think. Guessing, I mean... (hide spoiler)]
—Paul The Uncommon Reader
