2 hours ago
5
Lucy Apps’s debut novel tells the story of 19-year-old Gloria, who is living in east London with her mum in the summer of 1999. Gloria has a learning disability and is past the age when the state might offer her support. Often she is happy enough “to stop outdoors where it is nice and busy, and watch things happen and be part of it”.
But sometimes people steal from her, or shout abuse. Then she has a “heavy feeling inside her” because she has no option except “to walk around the parks and streets on her own trying not to attract too much attention”. When she develops a friendship with Jack, she is happy because: “He has no one to talk to and she has no one to listen to, so they can fit with each other.”
Gloria merely wants to eat chips or drink a coke in a pub, but Jack often rants about the end of the world. “He is waiting the summer out, waiting the city out, counting down to zero.” For Jack, the attraction of Gloria is that he can do what he likes with her. He may not be obviously motivated by sex, but he certainly craves control.
Apps has not set herself an easy task in writing this novel. How do you show Gloria’s limited view of the world without making the book itself simplistic? Initially, the text feels slightly jarring. The sentences are short and their structure is simple. Apps has chosen the third person, but the text often seems to push towards first person.
The consistent use of “don’t” in place of “doesn’t” is distracting and sometimes the reader struggles to differentiate between what is said by the narrator and what is free, indirect speech emanating from within Gloria. However, as the narrative develops these initial stumbling blocks drop away. We understand that for Gloria language is less about meaning and more about finding comfort in rhythm and pattern. (“Wrongwi that wrongwi that wrongwi that.”)
Also, moments of beauty elevate her experience, giving the reader a wonderful sense of the streetscapes of east London. Gloria experiences much of the world as sensation and pattern, and Apps cleverly uses this lens to pick out small details that bring the wider world into sharp focus.
Despite the narrow viewpoint, the secondary characters are engaging. Gloria’s mother is doing her best, but when she is at work all day how can she supervise her daughter? Tyrone, Gloria’s carer in the later part of the book, is resolute and patient. He wants (and deserves) time and a half for spending a dire night searching for her, but is also motivated by real concern and compassion.
When Jack commits a terrible crime, Gloria is asked to give evidence. In the court process, Gloria is assured that she won’t encounter Jack. The tragedy is that she actually wants to see him because, although she does understand his crime, she still just wants to have a friend. Memories of violence have left her traumatised, but the talking therapies that might help others are of no use to her.
This is a carefully structured novel that grows in impact and tension. Gentle, tender and troubling, it takes us inside the life of a person whose world would generally be closed to us. The end of the book is heartbreaking as it reinforces how small Gloria’s needs are. Apps is purposely not making any wider societal point within the close focus of this novel. But the reader, of course, asks why our society is so fast and fragmented that no one has time for Gloria – even though all she needs is a little kindness and company.
Gloria Don’t Speak by Lucy Apps is published by Weatherglass (£12.99). To support the Guardian, order your copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply.
