Overview:
Oh, the endless possibilities of fiction. Who knew that in a novel set during the era of the greatest war the world had ever seen, the fate of men's lives would be decided not by God or king or country - but by shorthand? Secretarial shorthand, at that.
For that matter, who knew that a 29-year-old Queenslander would write a first novel that would be sold to 11 countries, produce a deal worth close to $1 million and spark interest in a movie by one of the makers of The Da Vinci Code?
The Shifting Fog by Kate Morton is a hard novel to assess. Its story of an English aristocratic family in terminal decline (surely not) is mildly interesting and competently structured. In fact, it all seems a bit too easy: the sort of novel that you or I could write, if only we had the time and the incentive and a reliable home computer.
This, of course, is utterly unfair. It may not be great art, but Morton has written it and we have not. She researched and struggled and sweated and got the job done while we were out having coffee and talking about it; and so she deserves every penny and every red carpet that comes her way.
The movie, in fact, is mostly speculation at this stage, but the chances of Hollywood success must be good, because the plot of The Shifting Fog contains every detail necessary to discerning directors of period drama. The story revolves around two stunningly beautiful heroines (blonde sisters), who are the last descendants of an enervated but ineffably glamorous and ancient family.
This family inhabits an elegant and outdated country house, in which Picassos hang in lost corners and an unseen army of loyal servants toil day and night so the heroines never have to lift anything heavier than a cigarette holder.
These servants, of course, despite their devotion, have troublesome Real Lives, which eventually intersect with the fates of those upstairs. Cue tragedy, chaos and a surprising amount of shorthand. Throw in a brooding poet with whom both the sisters fall in love, a rich American who marries one of them, and, as the back cover describes it, "a shattered Edwardian summer", and the atmosphere of elegiac romance and nostalgia is so thick you could cut it with a knife.
Of course, the reality is that many people - me included - absolutely love this stuff, which is why The Shifting Fog will no doubt do very well. Give me a story containing doomed love, a large staff and a wide selection of flapper dresses, and I'm happy. The problem here, however, is that on ground so well covered by such gleamingly gifted writers as Mitford and Waugh, Fitzgerald and Coward, you must be brilliant to be anything at all - and The Shifting Fog is some distance from brilliance.
ENJOYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!
Sincerelyours
And Blessed Are The Ones Who Care For Their Fellow Men!
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