It’s one of the stranger ways into an ostensibly straightforward family drama spanning the generations.
Rather than a narrator reminiscing about bad choices – or, indeed, the successful device employed by Salley Vickers in Cousins, in which multiple perspectives and ages weave into a coherent narrative – Wally Lamb’s film professor Felix Funicello sees a ghost. Not just any ghost, but the wisecracking ghost of groundbreaking silent-film director Lois Weber, who persuades Funicello to watch little movies of his early years so that he might understand himself, and the world, a little better. Later, Ingrid Bergman’s spirit also turns up to explain why 1965 was such a seismic year for America.
Even Funicello thinks the ghosts are ridiculous, and though I’ll Take You There is a breezier, more comic read than some of Lamb’s previous work, the spectres set a rather annoying tone from which the book never quite recovers.
This is a shame because hiding in here somewhere is a good idea. During a six-book career, Lamb has tackled big subjects with some aplomb – most notably the Oprah Winfrey-endorsed chronicle of paranoid schizophrenia, I Know This Much Is True. And once the ghosts literally disappear into the background, there are some neatly nostalgic depictions of the 1950s and 1960s, Funicello’s present-day relationship with his aspiring journalist daughter Aliza is full of sharply observed dialogue, and the story of a family that ends up being not quite the traditional unit it appears pulls on the right heartstrings.
Unfortunately, Lamb tries to shoehorn in his own feelings about feminism, sexism and the objectification of women, and far too heavy handedly at that. Aliza writes a huge “article” about a beauty contest that almost stops the narrative dead in its tracks, while a similar “blog post” from her at the end is dreadfully preachy.
Admittedly, I'll Take You There started out as a multimedia storytelling project, with the ghosts voiced by actors (Kathleen Turner does Weber), 360-degree galleries of locations, an original soundtrack and film clips.
The story was licensed to a traditional publisher later, and it does feel like – perhaps diverted by the possibilities the electronic version offered – Lamb has had too much fun with the creative process and failed to apply enough rigour to the actual mechanics of writing a story.
After all, there are some serious issues bubbling under the surface here which deserve a less throwaway approach.
artslife@thenational.ae