Maps of Our Spectacular Bodies (2022)

Why this one?

I’ve been dipping my toes in a few of the longlisted books from the 2022 Booker Longlist. For various reasons I’ve no intention of reading them all, but I’m just cherrypicking a few that take my fancy. Perhaps I’ll get deeper in to the shortlist, but let’s see…

I picked this one for a couple of reasons, both very superficial. First, I’d seen it about a lot on Instagram. Second, it has a pretty cover. That’s about that!

It’s written by first-time novelist Maddie Mortimer (1996- ), born in London, England. She studied at the University of Bristol and later completed the prestigious Faber Academy novel-writing course. She’s previously worked in Marketing and as a screenwriter, and has a TV series in development. Maps of Our Spectacular Bodies is already a prizewinner, taking home the 2022 Desmond Elliott Prize for best debut novel.

Thoughts, etc.

Maps of Our Spectacular Bodies is a unique read, flitting back and forth between its protagonist Lia (a mother, wife and creative who has just received a terminal cancer diagnosis) and an unnamed second narrator who may or may not be the cancer itself. It plays with the novel form both in this sense and in its heavy borrowings from the world of poetry, with the text often deviating wildly from novelistic convention and into visual / concrete poetry modes. It’s drawn from personal experience of losing a mother to cancer, and amongst the formal experimentation is a relatively familiar and yet deeply emotive story of coming to terms with (or failing to come to terms with) death and reflecting on life - both the good and the bad.

In terms of previous Booker winners (my area of expertise) few have been quite so playfully experimental - only Lincoln in the Bardo springs to mind in recent-ish years as being cut from a vaguely similar cloth. I obviously loved that book, and there are definitely aspects of this one that hit the spot for me too. It’s certainly an excellent in its handling of how to express the inexpressible - the swirling and chaotic voices that must surround the knowledge of one’s impending death surely cannot be adequately rendered in conventional prose and in this sense it’s a huge success.

It packs emotional punches too, largely in the relationships between the two key mother-daughter pairings in the novel. I tended to find, though, that these emotional punches came surprisingly frequently in the “conventional prose” sections of the novel, with the more experimental voice varying in quality. I guess that slipperiness was an essential part of that Mortimer was going for with that particular voice, but for me it switched a little frustratingly between moments of insight and quite a few longer periods where it was hard to pin down exactly what it was trying to say.

Those emotional punches, where they emerge, are the central thrust of the novel and what kept me going with it, and they very much make the whole thing worthwhile. There are also real standout moments in which the intersection between Lia as a woman and Lia as a cancer sufferer intersect, notably the train incident (if you know, you know). Other aspects of the story, such as Lia’s relationships with the men in her life, felt less interesting to me in general (particularly when articulated in the sometimes confusing voice of the “other” narrator).

It’s a book that intrigues and occasionally dazzles, but also one that I sometimes struggled to find the energy to pick up. As with so many books I’ve read since starting this blog, though, I’m more than happy that I persevered with it as there are many rewards within its very distinctive pages.

Score

7.5

A fresh and interesting new voice that I will definitely look forward to hearing more from, even if the book itself felt a little uneven for my tastes.

Were this to win, it would feel like quite a curveball for the Prize. I can see it making the shortlist, though. As I’ve said, it didn’t quite hit home on a personal level but it’s still a really interesting and unique read.

Next up

Another pick from the 2022 list, in the shape of Karen Joy Fowler’s Booth.