Apatt's Reviews > Titus Groan

Gormenghast Castle by Ian Miller

“Lowering himself suddenly to his knees he placed his right eye at the keyhole, and controlling the oscillation of his head and the vagaries of his left eye, he was able by dint of concentration to observe, within three inches of his keyholed eye, an eye which was not his, being not only of a different colour to his own iron marble but being, which is more convincing, on the other side of the door. This third eye which was going through the same performance as the one belonging to Rottcodd. Here apparently on this stifling summer afternoon was the eye of Mr. Flay at the outer keyhole of the Hall of the Bright Carvings, and presumably the rest of Mr. Flay was joined on behind it.”

The above beautifully oddball passage represents – for me – the reason to love and not to love Titus Groan. Titus Groan is full of passages like this, literary and eccentric. Sometimes I love it, sometimes, when the prose seems too convoluted, my attention just drifts away. Some fans of the book (on Reddit) describe the experience of reading this book as like being in a dream. Unfortunately, for me this is sometimes literally the case, I found myself dozing off from time to time. I first attempted to read this book a few years ago and progressed as far as 50 pages when I gave it up, I did notice the artistry of it but it kept sending my attention drifting like a balloon. That was during my pre-Goodreads era, and when I read Cecily’s monumental review I just had to give it another go. I am glad I did, though it did not work out as well as I had hoped. Cecily mentioned that this book is a “page turner”, this cannot be objectively refuted but the fact is that the impetus for turning pages of the book is different for her from what it is for me. In the early parts of the book turning pages for me often require some exertion of willpower. Still, I persevered, I really want to know what the fuss is about.

The first half of the book was not a complete loss for me, it starts off quite well with Mr. Rottcodd the curator on his hammock in The Hall of the Bright Carvings and some chaotic happenings in the castle’s kitchen. Soon afterward I came to the stumbling point, Lady Fuchsia, the earl of Gormenghast’s only daughter, starts to potter around the castle, everything she comes across or observes is meticulously described in pages and pages of lyrical prose. Unfortunately, I could not tell you a single thing of what she saw, my mind was drifting away towards lunch menu speculations among other things; I was not taking in a single sentence. This is the point where I previously gave up the book. Not this time, I reeled back my wandering attention and pushed on.

I am glad I made the effort as toward the halfway point Steerpike, the villain of the piece, starts scheming and manipulating various characters.

Steerpike by Gemedette

Steerpike is a complete bastard without any redeeming features but he heroically saves the book for me, so yay for Steerpike! While lady Fuchsia brings home leaves, shining pebbles and fugnesses (whatever they are) from the woods like a manic pixy dream girl, Steerpike plots and schemes and galvanizes the narrative into a riveting reading experience. However, this level of intensity is not maintained throughout the rest of the book and catatonia-inducing passages make unwelcome returns from time to time.

Still, I don’t want to dwell on negativities, there is much to value in this book. While the author’s narration does not always work for me I tend to like the dialogue, and – most of all – the characterization. The castle Gormenghast is populated by very odd characters, like a “dysfunction junction” where everyone has some kind of disorder or issues. The Groan family reminds me a little of the Addams Family. Most of the characters are rather grotesque, for my money the weirdest one(s) are the twins Lady Clarice and Lady Cora Groan, the novel’s Twiddledum & Twiddledee, but even more bizarre because they are semi-synchronized humans. Better still, their quarters include the Room of Roots which is the weirdest room in a castle full of weird rooms (Room of Spiders, Room of Cats, Hall of the Bright Carvings etc.).

The Room of Roots by Ludi.

The Gormenghast trilogy is often described as a fantasy, in spite of the absence of magic or supernatural creatures; with characters this odd they don’t really need dragons, orcs and other fantastical trappings, besides the novel does not indicate where and when in space and time the story takes place.

It is too easy to say that “this book is not for everyone”, the thing is, I don’t know of any book that is for everyone. Is there a book that enjoys universal approval? It is probably more meaningful to point out any areas of difficulties the average reader may encounter. Therefore, I would recommend Titus Groan with some reservations, if you are fan highly lyrical writing this book may suit you very well. If, like me, you prioritize storytelling far ahead of literary prose you may have a struggle on your hands; perhaps try reading a sample chapter first.

3.5 stars


• Mervyn Peake himself has drawn many wonderful and surreal illustrations for the Gormenghast books, I have not included any in the above review because I like a bit of colour! I do love this one of Dr. Alfred Prunesquallor and his sister Irma though.

Go to Mervynpeake.org to see more.

• Perhaps this passage will work as a litmus test of whether you will appreciate the more lyrical side of this book:

“A bird swept down across the water, brushing it with her breastfeathers and leaving a trail as of glow-worms across the still lake. A spilth of water fell from the bird as it climbed through the hot air to clear the lakeside trees, and a drop of lake water clung for a moment to the leaf of an ilex. And as it clung its body was titanic. It burgeoned the vast summer. Leaves, lake and sky reflected. The hanger was stretched across it and the heat swayed in the pendant. Each bough, each leaf—and as the blue quills ran, the motion of minutiae shivered, hanging. Plumply it slid and gathered, and as it lengthened, the distorted reflection of high crumbling acres of masonry beyond them, pocked with nameless windows, and of the ivy that lay across the face of that southern wing like a black hand, trembled in the long pearl as it began to lose its grip on the edge of the ilex leaf.”

There is a fine line between evocative and boring, which side of the line this passage falls on is for you to decide. For me, Mr. Rottcodd has the right idea:

Mr. Rottcodd by Mervyn Peake

• Next volume Gormenghast promises to be more eventful and violent. I'm there (probably).
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Quotes:
“And don't be alarmed. Smoke, you know, is only smoke: it's not composed of crocodiles, oh dear no, nothing so tropical.”

“Do you mean, your Ladyships, that you have become used to being treated in this offhand and insolent manner? Do you not mind whether your natural and hereditary dignities are flouted and abused—when an old commoner slams the doors upon you and speaks to you as though you were on her own degraded level? How can the Groan blood that courses so proudly and in such an undiluted stream, through your veins, remain so quiet? Why in its purple wrath is it not boiling at this moment?”

“What is Time, O sister of similar features, that you speak of it so subserviently? Are we to be the slaves of the sun, that second-hand, overrated knob of gilt, or of his sister, that fatuous circle of silver paper? A curse upon their ridiculous dictatorship!”

The Twins' Tree outside the Room of Roots by ThatArtistFeller