the ramble dump

Reviews of Titus Alone are usually prefaced with a note about Peake's decline in mental health at the time of writing, and the consequent deterioration in the quality of the novel compared to its predecessors. Thus, when I had finished the fantasticalness that was the first two books, I didn't really know what to expect of this third book. On the one hand, I wanted to save Titus Alone for later reading anyway because it would be something to look forward to; but on the other hand, the fact that many fans of Peake had seemed to treat it like some withered limb attached to an otherwise fine body of work, its mention tacked on to the end of their reviews as a hasty afterthought, made me slightly afraid that it had all gone horribly wrong. I know from experience that a bad sequel can taint the memory of a good original. But just as the year was coming to a close, in the face of all reasons to put it off, I succumbed to the urge to read it.

Is it, in my opinion, as satisfying, thrilling, fulfilling, lavishly detailed and imaginatively awe-inspiring as the first two books? In all honesty, no; it isn't.

But is it then, in my opinion, a horrible withered limb that ought to be discarded and forgotten? Not at all. In fact, in a trilogy of appallingly underrated books, I think Titus Alone is maybe the most underrated of them all.

The main problem many readers will have with Titus Alone, despite being published in a volume perhaps misguidingly titled the Gormenghast Trilogy, is its lack of Gormenghast: the scale and detail of the surroundings; the immersive gothic atmosphere, grand yet claustrophobic; and, above all, many of the denizens we've grown to love and hate. Titus Groan has left Gormenghast for a fresh start in a very different world, a jarring transition that might leave the reader feeling just as disorientated as the protagonist. Suddenly there are cars, planes, floating mechanical globes, death-rays, and fish-eye screens that allow long-distance communication. After living in the winding, dream-like rabbit-hole of the archaic Gormenghast, this intrusion of unspecifiably advanced technology is almost offensive to our corridor-dwelling sensibilities. Colour me Barquentine, but the change more than once left me grumbling and yearning for a return to the castle.

The new world that we are shown of cities and technology still has plenty of room for its own strains of the dark and macabre, especially in places like the Under-River, but it never achieves quite the same level of immersion. Above all else, the world in Titus Alone suffers from lack of detail. The level of technology is unclear, as are the intentions and explanations of the Scientist, his factories and his strange, gliding, helmeted men. Whether these were left deliberately mysterious for some reason or other is hard to tell. We are only offered small glimpses of this new cityworld. Peake had spent much time delving deep into the world of Gormenghast, never needing to explain every last technical detail but at least giving us the impression of the castle's expansiveness. The impression of the cityworld, on the other hand, is only vague and patchy.

The other thing about this change is that it is sharp enough to seem like it's trying to sever itself from its prequels and to make room for a new series of characters and stories, but at the same time Titus Alone can't quite stand on its own. It isn't a withered limb, but it is very much a sequel, despite the drastic differences between the books. Much like Titus himself, and through his struggles to establish his own identity, Titus Alone is constantly referring back to the people and events of the previous two books, and Gormenghast plays an increasingly significant, almost overly contrived role in the preoccupations of not just Titus but of the new characters around him. The result is that Titus Alone is more of a 'Gormenghast' book than it first appears, but also that, while this apparent conflict in its intentions does a good job of mirroring Titus' own confusion, the third book in the series ends up as something of an odd creature.

Despite all this, however, the most important aspect of Peake's writing, the depth and complexity of the characters, is still there. While it felt like there were a few too many 'mysterious' characters who could have done with some elaboration, such as the Scientist, the Scientist's wife, the helmeted men and 'Anchor', the main featuring characters are described very fully. If anything, I found Titus to be a more interesting character than he had been previously, mostly because of the dynamic between himself and the other most notable characters: Muzzlehatch, Juno and Cheeta. As Titus enters their lives, we are given detailed insights into their idiosyncratic thoughts and feelings, emotions and drives in the same way that made the previous books so interesting, especially in relation to how these characters affect each other. Titus' complete bluntness with the other characters is fascinating to read, and to say that it gets him into a bit of trouble would be an understatement.

Muzzlehatch has to be one of the most compelling characters of the entire trilogy, and Peake draws his relationships with the others in a way that feels very genuine -- especially with Juno, through whom Peake creates a very dignified, sympathetic and human character. Cheeta, the Scientist's daughter, feels a little less real in her designs than the others, and her transition over the course of the story feels less believable and sometimes a little hurried. She does, however, set the stage well for the finale of the book, which serves as both a narrative and thematic convergence, and sufficiently satisfies the stories of the majority of the characters, giving some sense of closure even if we never find out what happens to Titus next.

As I already mentioned, the way the story revolves around Titus sometimes feels a bit contrived, especially when every character becomes strangely fixated with him, including some of the Under-River dwellers who hardly have anything to do with him. There is, however, a lot to like about Titus Alone, and although it does feel like an incomplete, sketchy work in some respects, Peake remains in top form in others. But for the bizarrely brief chapter breaks which can largely be ignored, there is actually surprisingly little to distract and give the impression that Peake's health was in decline at all. I'd say Titus Alone still definitely worth a read.

Labels: gormenghast, i am the ramblemaster, literature, rabbit-hole theory

# posted by Chris @ 4:07 PM