Sacred Hunger (1992)
Who wrote it?
Barry Unsworth (1930-2012; active 1966-2011,) born County Durham, England. Unsworth was born in the mining village of Wingate to a long family history of mining. His father began working in coal mines at the age of 12, but moved into insurance following a visit to the US aged 19, breaking the chain of fathers and sons in the family following the same mining route. He wrote primarily historical fiction, often concerned with Empires in ruin - making him a highly likely candidate for Booker success. He was indeed nominated for the Prize three times, first in 1980 for Pascali’s Island (losing to another historical seafaring story, Golding’s Rites of Passage) and finally in 1995 for Morality Play. He died in 2012 of lung cancer.
What's it about?
Sacred Hunger is a 620-page epic centred around a slave ship, the Liverpool Merchant, in the 1750s and 60s. The ship is owned by the Kemp family, with the younger Erasmus Kemp one of its principle players. His cousin, against whom Erasmus bears a childhood grudge, Matthew Paris, has recently been released from a prison sentence for spreading proto-Darwinist propaganda, a crime which also inadvertently led to the death of his wife Ruth. He elects to join the crew of the Merchant as ship’s doctor, as a form of penitence and attempt to escape from his former life, much to the chagrin of the vessels’ terrifying commander, Captain Thurso.
The first book of the novel chronicles the ship’s journey on the Triangular Trade, heading to West Africa to purchase its human cargo for transport and sale in the Americas. In great detail, we see the barbaric and inhuman suffering of the slaves, as well as the rage and beatings inflicted by the single-minded Thurso on his crew (most of whom are also involuntary travelers - albeit paid.) We also see Paris reckoning with the morality of his decision to join the expedition, aided by the later presence of a Rousseau-like figure in the shape of Delblanc. Back in England, Erasmus Kemp courts a young woman, Sarah Wolpert, with his participation in an am-dram production of The Enchanted Isle (Dryden’s rewrite of The Tempest) providing amusing if mildly incongrous light relief. The first part of the novel ends with the Merchant in chaos, its slave cargo afflicted by horrific bouts of dysentery (“flux”) and food and drink supplies running perilously low. Kemp, meanwhile, sees his relationship and career in tatters following the death of his father, with the Merchant assumed lost at sea.
The second part of the novel sees Erasmus Kemp having clawed his way back to prosperity, having entered the sugar trade, as well as a beneficial marriage to a rich lady with whom he has absolutely nothing in common. He is visited by a Captain who informs him that the Merchant has been sighted inland in Florida, with rumours of a community of white and black people living as equals. Kemp immediately sets sail for the scene, with a view to extracting revenge and compensation for his family’s losses, blame for which he is convinced lies with his cousin Paris.
What I liked
I’ve grown somewhat suspicious of Booker winners that trumpet their “page-turning” credentials in big block quotes on their jackets, but in this case it’s clearly impossible to argue. One of the lengthiest winners to date but it doesn’t feel anything like it. Essentially because at its heart it’s told in the style of an epic seafaring adventure novel.
It’s also plainly written, evocative and engrossing without stretching into anything resembling experimentation or excessive complexity. It sets out to tell a story, and does so without putting unnecessary intellectual barriers in place. There’s enough Eighteenth-century colour to the language to give it realism, but not enough to distract or frustrate.
Many of the characters feel incredibly well drawn and rounded. I found the “lower” crewmembers, recruited at the last minute in the Liverpool docks by a combination of threat, trickery and appeals to desperation, to be the most impressively brought to life, both in their origins and their subsequent development on and off the ship.
Similarly, there are some memorably atrocious characters in there too. At a push, you may complain that the eye-poppingly angry Thurso, his amoral officers, and even Erasmus Kemp himself are somewhat one-dimensional emblems of the faces of capitalism, but they do stick in the mind in their unapologetic awfulness.
The suffering of the Africans as slaves is catalogued in great detail, in a way that is fitting to exposing the horror and inhumanity of the times, even while to modern eyes it can make for extremely uncomfortable reading.
It’s somewhat incredible that Unsworth manages to make this not only a page-turning read, but also one filled with humour. Of course, much of it is incredibly dark and (occasionally literally) of the gallows variety, but it’s still a wonder that it works so well without seeming to undermine the central themes.
Thematically really interesting. Paris as a character is perhaps a little too enlightened for his era to be entirely believable, especially by the novel’s end, but as a representative of collective rumblings that may have existed in small numbers at the time, he provides a really interesting lens through which to look at a period that was far from ready to abandon its religion of greed (the “sacred hunger” of the title) - proven by the ending of the novel in which the apparent utopia is first exposed as internally unsustainable and then destroyed from the outside.
What I didn't like
I have to say, overall, taken on its own terms I thoroughly enjoyed this. It vividly brought to life a terrible period of history in a way that was compellingly readable.
However, I did have one major issue that ran through the whole piece. I’m not sure if this is reading driven by living in 2021 specifically, but I felt a persistent sense of discomfort with how the Africans in the novel were not really given an internal voice. Of course it’s accurate to show their lack of an active voice on the ship, but I felt given the nature of the “omniscient” narrator, it’s odd that this mode is used to dive into the thoughts and feelings of the white characters (including the “lower” crewmembers, quite memorably in fact) but almost never used to give voice to the characters enduring the most suffering. This does change very slightly in the second book, but it felt more of a superficial nod than a wholehearted embracing of the characters’ inner voices. Briefly proposing a counter-argument to myself - perhaps the horror and extent of the suffering - on the ship particularly - is intended to speak for itself? What words could really articulate the extent of the obvious degradation they suffer, after all? Something to ponder on, either way.
I have to also admit to a slight discomfort with the extent to which Unsworth talks about the novel as being an allegory for 80s greed / Thatcherism.
“You couldn’t really live through the Eighties without feeling how crass and distasteful some of the economic doctrines were. The slave trade is a perfect model for that kind of total devotion to the profit motive without reckoning the human consequences.”
Much as I can’t disagree with this criticism of that era, is it not also maybe a little crass to compare the (admittedly very bad) excesses of late twentieth century capitalism with the (inhuman) horrors of the slave trade?
Food & drink pairings
If you’re an officer, there’s rums and brandies aplenty to be had in here.
Elsewhere, you’ll be lucky to avoid scurvy. Rice and decreasing supplies of water it is for most of you.
Fun facts
Unsworth wrote a sequel in 2011, which turned out to be his final novel. The Quality of Mercy takes place in 1767, five years after the second part of Sacred Hunger, and is set mostly in County Durham, home of both Unsworth’s family and that of the sympathetic Billy Blair in the novels.
Even more fascinatingly, while struggling with writers’ block while writing Sacred Hunger in the late 80s, Unsworth wrote a novel called Sugar and Rum which is about… an author struggling with writers’ block while struggling to write a novel about the Liverpool slave trade. Meta!
History doesn’t really seem to have been kind to Sacred Hunger, especially in comparison to its co-winner The English Patient. It rarely crops up in discussions of best Booker winners and doesn’t seem especially widely read. I think it’s a shame - there’s a lot in here to enjoy, and a huge amount to think about. If you’re looking for one of the more intriguing Booker winners to revisit, I’d strongly recommend this one - albeit to be approached with one critical eye open, of course.
Vanquished Foes
Christopher Hope (Serenity House)
Patrick McCabe (The Butcher Boy)
Ian McEwan (Black Dogs)
Michele Roberts (Daughters of the House)
Shared, as we know, with Michael Ondaatje’s The English Patient.
Context
In 1992 (once more with feeling):
Breakup of Former Yugoslavia continues; Bosnian War begins
Formal declaration of end of Cold War by Bush Snr and Yeltsin
LA Riots following acquittal of police officers involved in the Rodney King beating
European Union formed, with the Maastricht Treaty
Black Wednesday - British Sterling (and Italian Lira) forced out of European Exchange Rate Mechanism
John Major's Conservative Party wins a narrow victory in UK General Election
Bill Clinton defeats incumbent Republican George Bush Sr. in US Presidential election
Boutros Boutros-Ghali becomes UN Secretary General
Separation of Prince and Princess of Wales publically announced
First SMS text message
Sinead O'Connor rips up a photo of Pope John Paul II on Saturday Night Live, protesting abuse in the Catholic Church
Paul Simon becomes the first major artist to tour South Africa after the Apartheid-era cultural boycott
Freddie Mercury Tribute Concert held at Wembley, London
Nirvana's Kurt Cobain marries Hole's Courtney Love
Launch of Cartoon Network by Turner Broadcasting
Cormac McCarthy, All the Pretty Horses
Nick Hornby, Fever Pitch
The Bodyguard
Wayne's World
Howard's End
Dr Dre, The Chronic
R. E. M., Automatic For the People
Rage Against the Machine, Rage Against the Machine
Life Lessons
Capitalism always wins
That time your cousin embarrassed you when you were about 7? Yeah, you probably shouldn’t let that dominate your entire life and then lead you on a mad quest half way around the world in an attempt to have him hanged. (Or equivalent modern day analogy)
Score
9
A rich old multi-course feast of a story, despite some potentially problematic aspects to the modern reader.
Ranking to date:
The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro (1989) - 9.5
Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie (1981) - 9.5
Moon Tiger - Penelope Lively (1987) - 9
Sacred Hunger - Barry Unsworth (1992) - 9
Oscar & Lucinda - Peter Carey (1988) - 9
The Sea, The Sea - Iris Murdoch (1978) - 9
Life & Times of Michael K. - J. M. Coetzee (1983) - 9
Schindler’s Ark - Thomas Keneally (1982) - 9
The Bone People - Keri Hulme (1985) - 8.5
Troubles - J.G. Farrell (1970, "Lost Booker") - 8.5
Possession - A. S. Byatt (1990) - 8
Saville - David Storey (1976) - 8
The Siege of Krishnapur - J.G. Farrell (1973) - 8
The English Patient - Michael Ondaatje (1992) - 7.5
Rites of Passage - William Golding (1980) - 7.5
Offshore - Penelope Fitzgerald (1979) - 7.5
The Elected Member - Bernice Rubens (1970) - 7
The Conservationist - Nadine Gordimer (1974) - 7
Holiday - Stanley Middleton (1974) - 7 .
Heat & Dust - Ruth Prawer Jhabvala (1975) - 6.5
In a Free State* - V.S. Naipaul (1971) - 6.5
G. - John Berger (1972) - 6
The Famished Road - Ben Okri (1991) - 6
Something to Answer For - P. H. Newby (1969) - 5.5
Staying On - Paul Scott (1977) - 5
Hotel du Lac - Anita Brookner (1984) - 4.5
The Old Devils - Kingsley Amis (1986) - 4
*Read in later condensed edition.
Next up
1993 takes us in a different direction entirely with Roddy Doyle’s Paddy Clarke Ha Ha Ha
