Emily Rhodes

Ways of escape | 28 June 2018

The narrator of this unusual novel is a 40-year-old hybrid of the post-punk icon Kathy Acker and a fictionalised version of Laing herself

Olivia Laing has been deservedly lauded for her thoughtful works of non-fiction To the River, The Trip to Echo Spring and The Lonely City. Her first novel, Crudo, is every bit as intelligent and provocative, with a roar of energy that comes from having been written, remarkably, in just seven weeks.

Perhaps the novel’s most unusual element is its narrator: ‘Kathy by which I mean I’ is a 40-year-old hybrid of the post-punk icon Kathy Acker and a fictionalised version of Laing herself. Acker died in 1997, but Laing brings her back to life for the politically turbulent summer of 2017. She peppers her prose with quotations from Acker’s writing and merges episodes from Acker’s life, such as her repeated breast cancer and her mother’s suicide, with Laing’s recent marriage to the poet Ian Patterson. All of this is cloaked in a contemporary reality of news stories and Twitter.

This strange Laing-Acker hybrid is part of Crudo’s elastic world. Kathy describes her gender as ‘transitioning; she loved the word, with its sense of constant emergence and zero arrival’, and this seems applicable to the rest of the novel, with its fluid sense of time and place (one minute she is on holiday in Italy, the next recalling a stay in New York, then on a train to London). ‘Other things were going on at the same time,’ notes Kathy, jumping from dozy contemplation of a dragonfly, while sunbathing in her garden, to the disaster of Houston being flooded. Her prose also skips from the domestic to the political, the mundane to the intellectual — a stream-of-consciousness not unlike a more radical Virginia Woolf.

Laing shows writing to be a means of escaping oneself for various characters and different perspectives: ‘On the page the I dissolves, becomes amorphous, proliferates wildly…’ Early on, Kathy compares herself to a drone: ‘Perhaps what she was doing, writing everyone down in her little book, wasn’t exactly gracious.’

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