An Incident of Curious Bother (A Spot of Bother)

I thought, before reading this book, that I would be somewhat disappointed. I had resigned myself to the fact that it would be simply impossible to replicate the sheer joy, innocence and depth that Mark Haddon created in The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time. Nonetheless, I was immensely eager to read his new offering A Spot of Bother--so much so that I read the hardcover version, which is very unusual for me because (1) as much as I adore literature, I find it absolutely appalling that a publishing house expects people to pay nearly £20 for a single novel, and (2) because it is just plain inconvenient for a 'commuter reader' like me to haul a great, burdensome volume around.

Anyway, I couldn't moan about the price because my partner bought me the book as a present, but it did mean I had to take my most vast handbag with me to work for a couple of weeks.

I guess you could call A Spot of Bother Haddon's first 'real' adult novel because, although The Curious Incident is primarily an adult novel, both its protagonist and style appeal to a younger audience, and it ended up making the book enormously successful on both the adult and young adult bestseller lists. Of course, this kind of success is a double-edged sword for any author because of the extreme expectation that is placed on him in terms of a follow-up, and I think sometimes readers have to appreciate that amazing works of brilliance are spawned from exceptional circumstances and subject matter and cannot be expected every time.

Thus, A Spot of Bother is a good work of fiction (in fact, it's well above average) and yet my preconceptions of Haddon initially allowed me from enjoying it for what it is--an account of an ordinary, but dysfunctional family in contemporary middle England. However, Haddon's familiar, well-paced style was easy for me to fall back into and I soon found myself being won over by the little things.

Haddon has a gift for details and it’s these nuances that make all the difference in terms of characterisation because it gives the reader something to relate to. When protagonist George Hall has a funny turn in Allders while buying a suit, or when George's gay son Jamie buys a Tesco ready meal for one and retires alone to his flat, it connects readers to characters by shared knowledge. And I think this is esentially what this novel is aiming to do: engage the reader in a series of events that are all the more profound because they are circumstances (incidents, if you like) that we could all find ourselves in.

I read this book with my face alternating between a smile and a grimace (some parts are quite graphic, and some cringeworthy), but isn't that what life is about? Can't most situations in life be summed up by these emotions? And I finished this book not disappointed, but entertained and satisfied. So, next time, maybe I won't automatically resign myself to disenchantment. And maybe, next time, I will actually buy the hardcover myself.