Deborah BosleyGAGLOW by Esther Freud (Penguin, R62,95)
It is not always easy to find the novel that will draw one willingly into its narrative and engage us consistently to the final page. Rarer still is the book in which we taste every morsel of food, feel each chill wind and the reproach of a sideways look. To write in such a fashion is an unusual accomplishment, but one that Esther Freud has achieved resoundingly with her third novel, Gaglow.
It begins at the start of World War II in Berlin with a wealthy Jewish family of grain- dealers, the Belgards. They have one son, the beloved Emanuel, and three daughters, Bina, Martha and the main protagonist, Eva. The girls are raised by their preferred guardian, Fraulein Shulze, under whose strict and loving supervision they slowly grow into distinct characters. Their flawed but admirable mother, Marianna, is shunned by her daughters in favour of Fraulein Shulze; the poignancy of her rejection adds a bittersweet thread to the tale.
When the Belgards are not in Berlin, they are at their country home, Gaglow. It is largely from within its doors that we experience life through the eyes of the youngest daughter, Eva. Emanuel leaves Gaglow to fight in the war, an event that signifies the turning point in the fortunes of the family. As the Belgards wither with the progress of the war, a parallel tale unfolds.
In present-day London, Sarah is the daughter of a German Jewish painter, whom we guess, from the author’s parentage, to be a roughly drawn portrait of Lucian Freud. As Sarah poses for him with her new baby, she learns of an old family property, Gaglow, that has resurfaced in Germany. Sarah’s fascination for Gaglow and her family’s past unfolds as her new life with her child begins.
We have seen already from Freud’s previous novels that she is hot on the subtleties of family love; the battle lines drawn and the love given injudiciously.
Emanuel’s secret passion for Fraulein Schulze destroys the Belgards and wrenches them apart, but Marianna, the beleaguered mother, emerges as a character of great depth and strength.
Gaglow’s characters have a nobility that lifts us beyond the depressing messages of much modern fiction. Freud’s story has sadness, tragedy and foolishness, but there is redemption and love too. Her writing has a wonderfully restrained sensuality that knows when enough is enough.
It is much to her credit that she gives us just what we need to know and no more. In the interests of balance, I looked for fault with this book but could find none.
A perfectly paced piece of high-calibre storytelling, Gaglow is a very fine novel.