Maybe The Fraud is all of us, after all?
Zadie Smith's historical novel confused me, in ways that annoy but also ways that entice.
The figures don’t lie- this is not an influential substack that is going to send people in droves to a piece of work, nor will it put a dent in existing success. I don’t think I’ve written a review though that makes me feel more irrelevant than this one, of Zadie Smith’s acclaimed bestseller. Partly it’s the numbers, but partly, I don’t have a strong enough view to move the critical dial, even if I could. It’s a confusing book, and this review is, as much as anything, an attempt to work out what I think of it. Fancy coming along for the ride?
The Fraud is a historical novel, set between the 1830s and 1870s and centred around a Scottish governess, abolitionist and writer Eliza Touchet. Touchet is at the heart of the book and is one of its key strengths- she is a compelling protagonist, drily witty and observant of the foibles and deceptions of those around her. She is friend and lover to William Ainsworth, a Toad-like joyful bounder of an novelist who loses his audience steadily through the 19th century by failing to adapt to literary fashion, unlike his friend Charles Dickens, whom she skewers regularly for hypocrisy. She is also in love with Ainsworth’s first wife, Flora, who barely emerges as a character before being killed off, and develops a grudging respect for the street-smarts of the much younger second Mrs Ainsworth. In a way, she reminds me of Michaela Cole’s character in I may destroy you- under her analytical gaze, no-one is spared, not even herself. So much so that when it is revealed towards the end that Touchet has written a book called ‘The Fraud’, it took me a while to compute that it wasn’t an autobiography, or about Ainsworth.
The Fraud of the title is supposed to be neither of them but Arthur Orton, a Wapping butcher who became a cause celebre when he claimed to be the lost heir to the Tichborne baronetcy, Roger. He clearly wasn’t, but Roger’s unwell mother convinced herself that he was her son before dying, so the whole caper took the longest trial in British history to unravel. This is, ostensibly, what the novel is about, but I found it easily the least compelling thread of the narrative. Orton is an obvious fraud, his lawyers blatant opportunists, and the case was notable mainly for the parallels to contemporary conspiracy theory culture. Honestly if you want to find out about the Tichborne claimant I would suggest this excellent episode of the Rest is History, with Smith as guest.
The last major thread of the narrative concerns Andrew Bogle, a fascinating character who was born into slavery and ended up as Orton’s chief supporter. The novel spends about 100 pages on Bogle’s history and background, which is in itself compelling, but this section feels disconnected from the rest of the narrative. An account of the dynamics of slave life would have been a fascinating counter-point to a novel about the politics of English abolitionism, but that isn’t this book. Equally, Bogle’s character is presented as exemplary in its integrity and honesty, so why is he supporting such an obvious charlatan? It is never explored, and so he remains a benign but curiously unconvincing presence, like a kind of Dumbledore, only better written.
The fact that Smith’s narratives threads don’t really cohere is concealed, I think, by a structure that leaps from time period to time period across very short chapters, so the reader is at times naturally disorientated. Many people reviewing the book online seem irritated by this- for me a fractured style of narrating can be a brilliant device (I think of something like Middlemarch or Arkady Martine’s space operas) but only if it is underpinned by a coherent core narrative, and I think that is what this book, for all that it is frequently brilliant, doesn’t completely work.
In a way, The Fraud is a long shaggy dog story- it purports to be about Orton and his fraud, but in the end I think it genuinely intends to suggest that fraud is endemic in society, and raise questions about the nature of truth, love and history. Fine. But in a way too many aspects of her kaleidoscopic world remain unexplored- how does Eliza feel about her BDSM past with William? How much of a hypocrite is Dickens compared to his peers? What is Bogle’s son doing in the story?
I ended the book unsatisfied- for a 12 hour audiobook it left me wanting… not more exactly, but a tighter more focused exploration which really explored the inner world of these characters.
So I can’t really recommend The Fraud (a statement which will cause precisely no consternation at Penguin). As an aside, I doubly can’t recommend the audiobook, which Smith herself narrates. There are a range of accents, some skillfully deployed, others verging on stereotypes, a few entirely unlistenable. It’s a good example of why voice artists are a thing.
That said, it is a book which has revealed aspects of 19th century life which I was unaware of- it’s never boring, and in Ms Touchet, has one of the best central characters I have come across. So, I wouldn’t warn you off if you are intrigued.
Next week, back to games and back to being nice about a thing! And pencils!