Sometimes a novel comes along that is not particularly ground-breaking in terms of plot or writing, but neverthless leaves you feeling extremely satisfied. Such was the case with The Unwilding by Marina Kemp. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

The Unwilding, opens with a sultry summer in Sicily, where revered novelist and patriarch Don Travers holds court at a rambling villa. Travers entertains various guests, one of whom is a young writer, Zoe Goodison, whose debut novel received high praise. Zoe feels out of her depth with the other guests (all artists, writers and publishers), and observes from the periphery. Also in the villa is Travers’s wife, the silent and withdrawn Lydia, and his four rambunctious children.

When the story begins, the youngest daughter, ten-year-old Nemony, finds herself also on the periphery, left out of her siblings’ conversations and activities. Like Zoe, Nemony becomes a keen observer.

The story then shifts between Nemony and Zoe, and time periods – Sicily in 1999 and London twenty years later. Nemony and Zoe’s lives intersect in London, and for both, their role of observer continues, albeit in quite different circumstances.

I’ll say nothing more about the plot – trust in the skilled and believable turns that Kemp has created. Instead, I’ll focus on two elements of the novel that were outstanding.

Firstly, Kemp explores the question of who ‘owns’ a story, and whose it is to tell. As it happened, I was reading another book at the time with the same theme (I Want Everything by Dominic Amerena), and both books had characters making decisions that prompt the reader to ask ‘Who is ‘more in the wrong?’. I reckon it’s a great position to find yourself in as a reader!

In The Unwilding, Kemp intersperses snatches of Zoe’s writing process with reveals on what took place in Sicily and its aftermath – Zoe’s cool and clinical detachment from her subjects provides a clear distinction from Nemony’s emotional investment. The two points-of-view also highlight the incompleteness of memories, especially those of children, who are not always privy to the broader context of a situation. For Nemony, her understanding of what occurred in Sicily has far-reaching effects, and we see how the past informs the present.

“It’s not kindness versus cruelty. It’s power versus weakness – all of life, all the stories we tell. No, I don’t find kindness to be King. … Your father, for example, he’s not unkind. What I would say, rather, is that he knows how to use his power. He’s not sentimental about it.”

Secondly, and most significantly, is the fact that Travers looms large – his influence pervades almost every scene and yet, he is only occasionally at the centre of the action. Through Zoe and Nemony we feel his presence, and how he has informed their perspectives on their relationships, their work and their history. It’s an impressive achievement in terms of character development.

4/5

…she remembered a moment four years earlier, at that long shady table in the garden in Sicily. Don’s wife had served stewed peaches, their syrup making amber rivulets in whipped cream. When Zoe murmured to her neighbour at the table that the peaches were delicious – an unthinking comment and not sincere, since sh’d never much liked cooked fruit – Don had said quickly, “Well, they’re good, not great.”