James Metcalf on the fictionality of the latest archaeological page-turners
Stephen Puddicombe looks at the unusual appeal of Samuel Beckett's Waiting for Godot
Ciaran Rafferty investigates the science of book classification
Instead of the Americanised, convoluted film version, Alex Garland's book is a fast paced, furiously intelligent novel of the youthful belief in invincibility, an all-consuming desire for the ideal and the gradual, creeping loss of sanity. Similar in concept to The Lord of the Flies, but without the symbolism and with a deeper, ingrained sense of menace, The Beach is an utterly hypnotic work, a harsh, ragged-edged novel of incredible literary power written in lucid, fast-paced and compelling prose. Told from the perspective of Richard, a complicated, self-seeking long-term traveller backpacking through Asia, The Beach tells the story of a legendary paradise attainable only by a select few. The main characters of the novel, having managed to achieve this earthly paradise via the claiming of a map, find the island just as rumour had suggested it would be: initially, at least, appearing to be the perfect retreat from reality. The creeping disquiet of the work becomes evident only in gradual stages: tension builds subtly throughout the novel and is initiated almost entirely, as the reader comes to realise, by the central character.
The first person narrative initially masks Richard as the instigator of the increasing menace of the work. This is due to the fact that everything is told solely from his perspective, and is thus completely rationalised. The character’s gradually developing amorality and apparently sliding grip on reality, however, becomes wholly evident in his increasingly dissolute and desperate actions and, surprisingly early-on in the novel, the appearance of Mr. Duck. The manifestation of this character is a clear indicator of the delicately-calibrated, increasingly unbalanced state of mind of the central character: Mr. Duck is nothing more than a figment of Richard’s imagination, in the form of a man who committed suicide at the start of the novel.
A disturbingly psychological work, Richard’s increasingly unhinged self deception and amorality, eventually leading to the murder of a fellow islander, is what truly fascinates the reader and what establishes the book as a beautifully crafted, mesmerising and ultimately terrifying cult classic. Essentially this is a fiercely intelligent, confident and compulsive novel that fascinates with its beautifully crafted characters, complex psychology and twisting plot line, with an ending that concludes exactly as it must.