fiction
Andrew Riemer
James Bradley
The Deep Field
Sceptre $29.95pb, 386pp, 0 7336 0875 2
ANYONE CAN WRITE A BOOK, a cynic once remarked, but bringing off
the second is a devil of a task. Most novelists at the outset of
their careers would agree, I think -- especially these days when
a market-driven publishing industry often demands that authors
of successful first novels should come up with more of the same
ASAP.
I was a trifle apprehensive therefore when James Bradley's second
novel arrived. Two years ago Bradley achieved considerable
success with Wrack, a fine, atmospheric work that stood out from
the ruck of run-of-the-mill first novels. As it turns out, I had
little cause to be uneasy. With this much more substantial second
work of fiction Bradley confirms that Wrack was no mere flash in
the pan.
The Deep Field -- the title comes from astronomy -- is set early
in the next century. Pakistan and India have fought a brief but
devastating nuclear war. A large earthquake has destroyed much
of Tokyo and with it most of the global economy. In Hong Kong the
Japanese disaster provoked civil unrest and brutal repression.
Sydney experiences random acts of terrorism and the hellish effects of atmospheric warming. Otherwise, apart from a few technological marvels, the world remains much the same as it is now.
None of this is particularly original. The approach of the millennium has prompted several writers into entertaining such mildly futuristic fantasies. Indeed, a recently released English novel, Adrian Mathews' Vienna Blood, follows a trajectory remarkably similar to Bradley's. Yet (unlike Vienna Blood and most of the millennial brood) The Deep Field does not rely solely, or even predominantly, on its politico-sociological preoccupations. The achievement of this fine novel rests on far more 'writerly' interests and accomplishments.
The central character is Anna, a photographer who has recently returned to Sydney from Hong Kong. She becomes fascinated by ammonites, voluptuously-shaped fossils of primitive life forms. Her fascination brings her into contact with Seth, a blind palaeontologist, and Seth's sister Rachel. In a steamy, polluted summer, when fires circle the city and the temperature stays above forty for days on end, love of a kind develops between Seth and Anna.
Little by little we come to learn of Anna's past: of her affair with Jared, a Hong-Kong based financier, and above all about her twin brother Daniel, who disappeared in the upheavals when unrest and rebellion broke out in Hong Kong. We catch glimpses of her with friends and colleagues from earlier years -- in particular, Jadwiga, an (improbably named) Hungarian gallery owner, and also Lewin, an artist Anna had known by repute, who, everyone believes, had died or else disappeared.
One of the most attractive qualities of this novel is Bradley's careful and sensitive representation of ambiguous, often tentative relationships. So Anna finds herself drawn to the austere, enigmatic Seth and yet she is disturbed by his reticence, which she suspects might mask coldness. Similarly the affection she comes to feel for Rachel, Seth's sister, must transcend impressions of possessiveness she detects in that staunchly independent-minded woman, who has dedicated herself to the care of derelicts and other victims of a cruel society.
It is in such areas that the chief strengths of The Deep Field lie. Bradley has the true novelist's ability to get inside his characters and to observe how their attitudes and responses change and develop. He knows, too, that holding back is frequently more effective than full disclosure. There are several apparent loose ends. They do not represent carelessness, however. On the contrary, numerous small, delicately introduced (and abandoned) details enrich the novel's texture. One instance occurs early in the narrative. Anna catches up with Jadwiga, the gallery-owner. She learns that Jean-Paul, her friend's husband, had died -- of the leukemia that is reaching epidemic proportions in many parts of the world. We catch a hint or two about the difficulties Jean-Paul and Jadwiga had experienced in their marriage. Then the matter is dropped, but not before it has added something imprecise but nevertheless significant to the emotional and also thematic scope of this admirable work.