Author: Emma Neale. Publisher: Vintage (3/5)
Dave—there’s no such thing as yetis.” But what if there were? And how would we react? These are the questions behind Emma Neale’s new novel Fosterling. Bu, the main character, is found in a remote forest after falling and breaking his leg. When he wakes up in Dunedin Hospital, he won’t talk. Not that most people really want to talk to him anyway; his gigantic height and the fact that he’s hairy all over - “his dark-blondish, silken pelt seemed to cover everything except his lips” - make him kinda scary to almost everyone who sees him. The media get wind of him and they, and the ugly reactions of the public, drive him into hiding.
Told mostly from the point of view of Bu and of the woman who befriends him, Sandrine, Neale allows us to sink into her warmly told tale. Bu’s voice and character are brought to life with a deft hand and a great deal of sympathy. In fact, all the characters, even the ones we only encounter for a few pages, feel well-rounded and deep; like icebergs, they seem to have much more below the surface than what we actually see.
Having said that, Neale’s dialogue sometimes rings false, and the ending seems abrupt. Furthermore, the novel as a whole seemed, if not clichéd, then certainly not wholly original. Fosterling is about how society treats those who are different, and Neale’s treatment of this theme, while fleshed out with a sure hand and in beautiful prose, nevertheless runs along an already well-worn groove, instead of carving out a new one. Because of this, the emotional impact of the novel is somehow muted. So if you’re looking for a masterclass in characterisation and lyrical writing, Fosterling is your book. Just don’t expect your whole world to change when you read it.
Fosterling
