A rough diamond

I write this review partly to help myself process this book, and partly because when I was wondering about giving it a go or not all that time ago, I found reviews a little unhelpful in letting me understand what exactly this book is. Everyone seems to say some variant of:



"It's just about EVERYTHING!"



And then says little else, leaving various open questions. For me, these were things like:



1. I really liked "From Hell", by Alan Moore, would I like this?

2. I get that this contains characters and stories from all over time, but is there any actual overall story?

3. Just how much of an avant garde nightmare is this?



So, to begin with, allow me to try my best to explain the book in those sorts of terms! First though, if you want quick answers to the above: 1. Probably; 2. Yes(ish); 3. About a 7/10.



There might be some things considered a little spoiler-ish ahead, so be warned...



Looking at the contents of Jerusalem from the most far-back conceptual point, this is a book where Alan Moore presents his own model of life, death, the afterlife, and how these all fit with each other. Whereas other authors often do similar things in openly showing blurred lines between life and death (for example Neil Gaiman's version of it all in Sandman or American Gods), they typically get to a point where they leave the real nitty gritty details to artistic licence and write logical inconveniences of their own making off with some flowery thoughts. Not Alan Moore. His version of this is almost mathematical in its precision, and I'll admit I got a real sense of satisfaction from being slowly guided through this very well constructed idea of what life is and how it operates on a metaphysical level. This isn't to say that there's nothing at all left to the imagination, but Moore goes above and beyond in fleshing out his imagination here, while also holding together an impressive amount of internal logic.



Moore presents this idea by focusing on a number of individual characters and stories, all of which take place in (or have a strong connection to) his hometown of Northampton. Many of these are entirely fictional while others are real, historical people. The stories take place across centuries of history (including some allusions to the future also), and often take a neat chapter each before moving on to another person in another time. Some of these are seemingly unremarkable on first reading, such as a comedic actor in the early 1900's who comes across a young mother with a baby who he is struck by the beauty of. Others are quite extraordinary, such as examining the life of ghosts who prowl the streets of Northampton in a grey, sound-dulled limbo. It is this hodgepodge style of story telling where Moore clearly enjoys himself, using different settings and personalities as an excuse to write in all sorts of styles from classic Moore, to archaic English, to a story laid out like a script for a stage play, to one chapter written in the every-line-is-a-pun style of Finnegans Wake. He similarly uses this rich roster of characters to explore every concept a writer might want to provide commentary on, from class warfare to the value of art in society. On a technical level, I can see merit in people arguing this is a masterpiece.



As one moves from chapter to chapter, you start to see little connecting threads bringing these seemingly separate lives and tales together, suggesting an underlying tapestry of experience and life expressed as something more spatial. Moore builds up his overall model of existence in this way, by drip feeding supernatural details which make little sense at first, before going all out on showing how the cogs all work in the middle third of the book.



The thing that's closest to a conventional, linear story within the book details the family history of the "Vernals". An early (and memorable) chapter shows an ancestor of this family who went insane as he tended to a fresco on a cathedral ceiling, seeing the painted angel turn to him and lecture him on metaphysics for two hours while a storm rages outside. As Jerusalem progresses, we are treated to nearly a complete Vernal family tree and see how this "insanity" runs down the generations to the present day with brother and sister Mick and Alma Warren (the latter of whom is a stand-in for Moore himself). These are arguably the most prominent characters in the book. Both middle aged in the present day, Mick has led a mostly sane life until a recent near-death experience left him feeling as though he were losing it as he begins to jabber about things like eating fairy's up in the ceilings. Alma, an artist who is questionably unstable already, is inspired by Mick's experience and sets about creating a exhibition based on it. Much of the book and its stories in some way lead up to the opening day of this exhibition, and the exhibition itself (a representation of the book Jerusalem, within the book) does serve as an appropriate story and thematic climax.



So... is it any good?



I'm reminded about a line in the British TV show The Thick of It, where one MP compares the extreme personality flips of spin doctor Jamie McDonald to a man saying "I love you! F*ck off!".



There's no denying the creativity that Moore has, and getting all this down on paper is a real achievement. But the execution varies from clean, to messy, to frankly laborious. It succeeds in being eerie, mysterious and deeply thought provoking, but in equal measure it is over-long and thematically repetitive to a phenomenal degree. Many of these notions and ideas are fascinating on first showing, but by the end we've been treated to the concept of time as a spatial dimension ten times too often. The constant switch in writing styles also inevitably leads to differences in enjoyment due to personal taste. The aforementioned middle third of the book, which offers full explanation as to the afterlife and its interactions with life, is presented in a style of a Famous Five-style children's adventure. I can understand the motivation in doing this, but for me the execution of this fell flat as it's just not a form of storytelling I find myself enjoying. This also left the full reveal feeling flat for me, in much the same way that a poorly-made monster is better left to the imagination when watching a horror film.



There's a real core of genius here, but it needs some serious chipping off of the unshapely bits of the story to help it shine. I'm very happy to have "read" this book (btw, Simon Vance = fantastic), but I also feel somewhat freed now that it's finished.



"I love you! F*ck off!" sums up my feelings about Jerusalem perfectly.