#notthebooker review no.4: What will remain by Dan Clements
Note: I’m trying to read and review the shortlist for the Guardian’s #notthebooker prize — the last three reviews can be found here and here and here.
What will remain is remarkably different than the first three nominees for the Not the Booker prize. Not a novel, instead Dan Clements’s book is a series of interlinked, but separate, short stories dealing with the moment-to-moment of British troops in Afghanistan.
Battle is the focus of most stories in the collection, how soldiers react to sustained fire and to IEDs, but there are also stories about political missions and stories about the how wounded servicemen recover from their experiences. This gives a broad insight into the conflict and the often horrendous psychological toll that combat exacts from combatants. Each story has a ring of authenticity, due no doubt to the author having served in Afghanistan.
The scope also serves to illustrate the different viewpoints on the fighting of the different ranks. Again, this helps give the collection depth, making clear that the lower ranks are more constrained, both in uniform and out of it, although at times the characters seemed to shade into caricature — the posh commanding officer, the secretly vulnerable veteran.
As with many short story collections the quality of the stories is variable. For me, where the writer reached the right emotional pitch they were at their best. The last few stories seemed particularly personal, dealing with how wounded servicemen react when recovering back in the UK, and they are the strongest in the collection. One can feel the emotional impact, the long term damage, caused by the brutal injuries discussed unflinchingly.
Conversely, the battle stories, although more traditionally “exciting” feel less personal and therefore less engaging. This is not helped by the author’s refusal to provide adequate explanation of military tactics and procedures, throwing in terminology seemingly at random, which leads to bewilderment. Perhaps this was deliberate, mirroring the “fog of war”, but in these sections it does make the reading experience less enjoyable.
There are other problems with the collection. Unlike the last nominated book I reviewed (The summer that melted everything by Tiffany McDaniel) the writing of What will remain lacks lyricism and a distinctive rhythm. It reads like the work of a writer still unable to find his voice, grasping for the right words and failing to find them. In many places I found it clunky and amateurish. In his review Sam Jordison highlights the way in which the author seeks to imitate Hemingway. To me a more apt comparison was Cormac McCarthy but either way Clement’s own lack of style is apparent.
This problem was exacerbated by a device used by the author of opening each story with a long stream of consciousness overview of the situation — an un-punctuated outpouring of jumbled background, emotion and opinion. These italicised sections were ambitious but simply did not work, leaving the reader unsure about what was going on. After I while I simply skipped them.
The often poor writing is what ultimately lets the book down. While it is a brave effort, with a lot to say, at most around half of What will remain is worth reading. The rest is a difficult slog through overwritten sentences, strange descriptions and forced metaphor
However, with more time to develop a unique style, and the latter half of the book hints this is happening, one feels that the author may become a powerful voice for those soldiers who served in Afghanistan.
