A Review By Keith Smith

On the Booker longlist, and described by many as dazzling, this seemed an important book to look at. Having read the first few pages I wanted to immerse myself some more and ended up reading it from cover to cover. ’Post-modern’ according to the critics..who knows or cares? It is a brilliant read, and you either pick up the many and varied literary and philosophical allusions or not.

Starting with the birth of the protagonist Serge Carrafax, one immediately is thrown a googly as the start of the book is more concerned with Serge’s father who is at the forefront of the new medium of wireless and transmissions, as well as head of a school for the deaf and mute where he employs unusual methods. We learn about communication in all its forms, personal and scientific, as Serge grows up in his unusual environment and conducts experiments of his own, whilst also taking on board the interests of his eldest sister Sophie whose tragic death ends the formative period of his life.

We are then with Serge as he just manages to survive the First World War. Because of his skills he is a spotter and code transmitter. The images of his perilous flights above the rat-holes, trenches and craters, are vivid indeed, and the experience of flying in these conditions is wondrously conveyed. And whilst this clear air combat is a world away from the oppressive underground world of ‘Birdsong’ , the impressions it leaves are equally brilliant.

Post-war decline of Serge and the society that spawned him is rendered in dark undertow in a bleak and drug-ridden London, and then all of a sudden we are into the last phase of the book, and of his own life, when he is assigned to improve Empire communications in a fraught Egypt. Fascinating stuff.

No plot, sometimes abstruse, nevertheless ‘C’ is uniquely brilliant, and I agree wholeheartedlywith those who say even if it doesn’t win the Booker (and why wouldn’t it?), there won’t be a better book published this year, or perhaps for a long time. Highly recommended. Also £5 off to encourage you.

‘He should have seen it coming. His life had been one mishap after another. So he should have been prepared for this one…’ – Julian Treslove, a professionally unspectacular former BBC radio producer, and Sam Finkler, a popular Jewish philosopher, writer and television personality, are old school friends.

Despite a prickly relationship and very different lives, they’ve never quite lost touch with each other – or with their former teacher, Libor Sevick, a Czech always more concerned with the wider world than with exam results. Now, both Libor and Finkler are recently widowed, and with Treslove, his chequered and unsuccessful record with women rendering him an honorary third widower, they dine at Libor’s grand, central London apartment. It’s a sweetly painful evening of reminiscence in which all three remove themselves to a time before they had loved and lost; a time before they had fathered children, before the devastation of separations, before they had prized anything greatly enough to fear the loss of it.

Better, perhaps, to go through life without knowing happiness at all because that way you have less to mourn?Treslove finds he has tears enough for the unbearable sadness of both his friends’ losses. And it’s that very evening, at exactly 11:30 pm, as Treslove, walking home, hesitates a moment outside the window of the oldest violin dealer in the country, that he is attacked. And after this, his whole sense of who and what he is will slowly and ineluctably change.

“The Finkler Question” is a scorching story of friendship and loss, exclusion and belonging, and of the wisdom and humanity of maturity. Funny, furious, unflinching, this extraordinary novel shows one of our finest writers at his brilliant best.