Waterland
Graham Smith, Vintage Books, 1992
Reviewed by Linda Carlson, December 2008
Have you ever wondered about the reproductive systems of eels? About that marshy portion of eastern England called the Fens? About why Seattleites are relatively asexual? About the relationship between curiosity and mental health? About the importance of the French Revolution? About what can drive a history teacher bonkers? If you’ve answered “yes” to any of these questions, you may wish to read Waterland.
Set in the Fens in the 1940s and 50s, but actually covering more than two centuries, this is a tale of love, lust, war, canal-keeping, and a motorbike. Our hero is young Tom, second son of a lock-keeper, an earnest, bookish sort in a family of earnest but decidedly non-bookish people. Decades later young Tom is middle-aged Tom, pondering his early years in a flat, watery land, and trying to piece together the events that have made him the learned, respectable, high school history teacher that he has become.
One of the more charming features of this book is the way Smith titles his chapters, beginning with “About the Stars and the Sluice,” and on to “About Beauty and the Beast.” It harkens back to the nursery and A.A. Milne’s “In Which Tigger is Unbounced,” and strengthens the fairy tale feel of the book. Instead of the 100 Acre Wood, the Never-Ending Marsh. One almost expects a marshwiggle, a witch, or a hobgoblin to appear. Oh, wait, a witch does appear, but not until page 298.
Indeed, this is a modern-day fairy tale, but reader beware, a fairy tale in the tradition of the Brothers Grimm. All is not well in the Never-Ending Marsh, nor even in the parking garage of the local Safeway. Smith’s masterful weaving of legend, natural history, and inner voice makes this a rich read. Readers may bicker with me over the word “modern,” and I can only defend myself with three little words: The French Revolution.