Incendiary
Ratings6
Average rating3.5
15
Ratings6
Average rating3.5
At once a novel and an open letter to Osama bin Laden, Incendiary is a shocking, hilarious, and heartbreaking debut that crashes head on into huge questions of right and wrong, good and evil, madness and sanity. Incendiary is the story of a working class woman who likes her simple life: watching Arsenal matches on the telly with her husband and little boy, fishsticks for dinner in their small flat, the occasional trip to the pub. One spring afternoon the woman, whom we know only by the nickname “Petal”, watches her husband and their son head happily off to Ashburton Grove, Arsenal’s brand new stadium, to see their favourite team play. A few hours later the horror of a terrorist bombing plays out on her television — the bombing of Ashburton Grove. “Petal” tells her own story in an extraordinary voice, one both desperate and sharply funny, speaking directly to the man responsible for the bombing. She shows the reader an incredible world, a London that is not quite real, in a time that is not quite our own. And as deeply enmeshed as the reader becomes in her reality, a tiny, persistent doubt begins to creep in about just what is reality and what is a manifestation of her griefstricken and distraught imagination. Dear Osama they want you dead or alive so the terror will stop. Well I wouldn’t know about that I mean rock ’n’ roll didn’t stop when Elvis died on the khazi it just got worse. Next thing you know there was Sonny & Cher and Dexy’s Midnight Runners. I’ll come to them later. My point is it’s easier to start these things than to finish them. I suppose you thought of that did you? There’s a reward of 25 million dollars on your head but don’t lose sleep on my account Osama. I have no information leading to your arrest or capture. I have no information full effing stop. I’m what you’d call an infidel and my husband called working class. There is a difference you know. But just supposing I did clap eyes on you. Supposing I saw you driving a Nissan Primera down towards Shoreditch and grassed you to the old bill. Well. I wouldn’t know how to spend 25 million dollars. It’s not as if I’ve got anyone to spend it on since you blew up my husband and my boy. —excerpt from Indendiary
Reviews with the most likes.
What a book to read for someone who makes their living in the homeland security industry. “Incendiary” follows a widow following her husband's and son's death from a terrorist attack on London. Not only is it an insightful statement on an individual's grief for her family and nation, but it is also a poignant statement on that nation's grief. In many ways, we can look at the narrator's descent into madness as understandable, given her extreme losses. England, however, is made out like a just-chastised dog, tail between the legs and sulking in the corner. How does the country react? By growing mean and incapable of trusting others.
But enough about that...“Incendiary” forces the reader to face questions that all of us should face in a post-9/11 world (though many of us can't bear the thought of doing so). Where is the line between civil liberties and security? Where is the appropriate threshold whereupon secrecy becomes necessary? Does force or resilience most-effectively deter terrorists?
Perhaps the book's greatest success is how it explores what happens to “regular” folks in the aftermath of national tragedies. Too often we read about how our politicians are affected, how the families of the NYC firefighters were affected. The New York Times lists Guliani's and Bush's accounts as “best sellers”. As mentioned, homeland security is a daily reality for me and I am afforded the opportunity to talk with a number of people about their emotions and their ideas about how to fight terrorism. One would be surprised at how many people teeter on madness when they really let themselves feel terrorism.
The book explores a number of relevant social issues without being “preachy”. It dissects how class stratification has manifested itself in modern, western civilizations. It touches on ethics in law enforcement and intelligence gathering. It ends with a scathing statement as to how our media can steal what little sanity many have left. Chris Cleave's genius lies in not naming the narrator; she is us.
This will be a short review as I am still processing this book. I enjoyed the overall story but was not expecting the way the narrator told it. It is written as one long letter to Osama Bin Laden after a massive suicide bombing at a football match in London. The narrator is a wife and mother, but we are never told her name. She doesn't use basic grammar and punctuation during the majority of her writing, and yet the story flows. She writes this letter as a way to tell Osama just how much he has changed her life and all of the various things she does in the days and months after the bombined. She is a wreck. She is lost. Ultimately, I think her grief is so overwhelming and consumes her so thoroughly that she almost commits her own act of violence. I have to say, the way the story is written/told, I almost put the book down after about 30 pages and walked away. I couldn't quite grasp the narrator's voice, but as I made my way through it, I finally “heard” her telling this story. I don't know if I would really recommend this book to others though, I think the way it's written could be a turnoff for many readers. I am currently reading Little Bee, by this same author, and that is what led to me reading this book. In the end, I am glad I read it, the emotion was very raw and real in my opinion.
