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You can buy "The Man in the Seventh Row"...here
Overview...
Roy Batty grew up in Edinburgh, the son of a butcher. Roy became a film fanatic and saw many classic films of the 60s and 70s. Still a film buff as an adult, when he goes to the cinema he repeatedly finds himself watching himself playing the familiar characters on the big screen from his seat in the Seventh Row. His soul is slowly dissolving into the ethereal melting pot of cinema. Why? we flashback over Roy's life to see what led him here. Is it real? or is it a mental breakdown, or a dream? Roy meets a kindred spirit, a fellow film fan. Can she save Roy from being swallowed up? In addition to the main story, there are 3 additional short stories that are connected, albeit tenuously and tangentially, to the main story.
My Review..
This is a strange book in many ways. Often when doing a review I know exactly how many stars to give. In this I was torn between 3 and 5. Which is odd in itself, why the gap? why not 3 or 4 or 4 and 5? and it took me a while to work out why.
It does not follow any set formula for a type of book. Large parts of the narrative are given to describing Roy's favourite movies. Most people spend their lives in reality with the occasional trip to distraction in the cinema. Roy seems to live his life in cinema with the occasional trip to distraction in reality I found that the plot wasn't really important. The plot seems hazy and blurred. In most books the narrative is a device to move the plot along, yet in this book it feels, to me, as if the plot is an excuse to talk about the narrative. Which if you are as skilled as the author is (both in writing and his chosen subject) is no bad thing.This view may be down to me and my often idiosyncratic tendencies and obviously others may will have a different take but personally I am not a huge fan of magical realism. I often prefer things to be like me, big and simple.
On the other hand the nuts and bolts of the writing are bang on for me. When I review a book, I underline interesting or unusual phrases possibly to use as a quote. My pen was working overtime in this book. In particular I found one large paragraph (too big to quote) about the hopes and dreams of the people who drift to LA in an attempt to find stardom quite moving.
The early part of the story reads like an autobiography. This was my favourite part of the book. Roy recounted his childhood including trips to the Cinema in Edinburgh and while on holiday in North Berwick. It was here sat in silence with his dad, enjoying a shared experience, that they bonded. This and the films resonated with me. Substitute the Gwent Valleys and Porthcawl and he could have been describing me.
We Welsh are known for introspection and melancholia and it struck me that the author writes like a Welshman. He writes "hiraeth" exceptionally well. Hiraeth does not really translate in English. In English it means home sickness but it is so much more. It is home sickness on steroids. It is a deep longing and pull in your soul to a place, time and people that may no longer be there, if they existed at all. It is the irresistible pull back to the land of your fathers. Reading this part of the novel was like sticking a thumb in a week old bruise. The pain felt so sweet.
This is not a book that you gallop through towards the crashing end. Luckily enough I am of an age and enough of a film fan to have seen all the movies Roy talks about, which I would imagine is a great help in reading this book. Barry Norman or Mark Kermode would love it. This book is like a conversation with an old friend in front of an open fire with a glass of whiskey talking about old films. It is a book that you wallow in and let the hiraeth seep in through your pores.
The 3 short stories at the end of the book are interesting but add little to the main narrative. Though the second story "hommage" does have a very clever spin.
So 3 or 5 stars. What the hell. I cant decide. We'll split the difference. It's a 4
Selected Quotes
"Cinema is a place where illusion and make believe are real."
"His father was never really the sort of man who would have ever been so presumptuous as take a starring part. He only really had a supporting role in life."
"He thought he had seen him up there on the screen, but it was difficult to be sure because his eyes had filled with tears. They ran down his face and he wiped them away. In the cinema, in the confessional darkness, no one can see you cry."
"but he had seen enough films from Oliver Twist to Lady and the Tramp to know that just because someone is dirty it did not necessarily mean they were dirt."
About the author...
Brian Pendreigh is an award-winning writer and journalist, whose regular outlets have included The Guardian (1999-2007), The Times and The Scotsman. He has written several film books and most recently was editor of The Times on Cinema (2018). He was twice Britain’s Film Journalist of the Year and his work has been picked by the Scottish Examination Board for English interpretation questions. He is a keen long-distance runner and pub quizzer (with wins on Mastermind, Eggheads, 15 to 1 and Only Connect). He lives in Portobello, Edinburgh. His lounge overlooks the Pentland Hills and his bedroom looks out to the sea and romance.
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