A Line Made By Walking by Sara Baume

A LINE MADE BY WALKING 

by SARA BAUME

I came across this book when I was browsing for something else and bought it on a bit of a whim. I started to scan the first page and before I knew it, I was about twenty pages in; hooked, mesmerised and consumed by the prose. There's something very rewarding about stumbling on something different which then turns out to be an unforgettable book and an unforgettable author. 

This is a book about life, death, nature and art. Each chapter in this book is named after an animal; small everyday animals like Robin, Rook, Frog and Hedgehog. And then, often near the beginning of the chapter, there is a photo of that animal. Dead. However, the visual impact of this is not as shocking or brutal as it sounds but it does prepare the reader for the themes, feelings, thoughts and emotions that are to explored and expressed over the following pages. 

Frankie is an artist in her mid twenties and, struggling to cope with urban life, she has retreated to her grandmother's rural bungalow which has been vacant since her grandmother's death three years ago. The days flow without structure as Frankie hides herself away, avoiding human interaction, struggling to maintain a relationship with even her family who also gradually fade away into the distance. Frankie ties to regain her hold on life and her art. She uses her camera to take photos of animals in the countryside around her, finding comfort in the natural world and the reassuring cycle of life and death. 

Though this may not be an always uplifting read, there is something about A Line Made By Walking that makes it unputdownable and compelling. It's powerful, moving and immersive. Baume's writing is clever, evocative, sad and mesmerising. It's fluency and undulating rhythms are absorbing, capturing the internal dialogue of Frankie and reflecting her psychological state of mind. There's a real cadence to Baume's prose created through her use of short phrases, repetition, questions, frankness and then more long, wandering sentences. This story might not always be easy reading but it's an incredibly insightful novel about grief, depression, isolation and human frailty. 

One of the ways the author incorporates art into her writing is by repeating a stock phrase throughout the narrative. Within each chapter - sometimes several times - Frankie 'tests' herself by trying to think of a painting on that subject or theme. 

"Works about Goldish, I remembered one: Marco Evaristti, Helena, 2000."

"Works about Blinking Lights, I test myself: Atsuko Tanaka, Electric Dress, 1956."

The use of repetition is very effective, as is the line "I test myself" and these sections offer further insight into the narrator's state of mind as well as being a clever structural device, and much more metaphorical. When she has recalled an appropriate painting, there follows a brief description of the painting, gallery and artist and this almost academic reciting is like a mantra to ground Frankie. She will then end the paragraph by linking the painting to a moment in her career or use it as a trigger to reveal a depressing thought, a desperate question, a random musing. Sometimes the connection can sound flippant, but as with every line in this book, its impact has been carefully considered and there is great poignancy and power in each and every word used. 

There are lots of sentences that carry more weight, depth, reflection and insight than may first appear and this novel is such a accomplished piece of prose that I can't really do justice in this review. As I flick back through the book to search for quotes I find myself reading on and getting caught up in the pages again, once more hypnotised by the writing.  

This book is unusual. It raises many questions about families, grief, depression and isolation. I felt it was a truly convincing account of someone lost within their bleak and confused mind. I thought the situation of the protagonist was handled with great understanding, sensitivity and conviction. There are passages which are very lucid, passages that are angry, passages that are hopeless and passages where she's recounting her actions and it's only the reader who can see the pain, damage and disorder. Frankie battles with her depression and she berates herself for behaving this way which feels authentic and hopeless. Baume handles the moments that reflect the sheer depth of Frankie's depression with prose which is nuanced and delicate. I found the whole motif about Frankie's need  - or disturbing habit - of lying on carpets very arresting. The statements about these actions were so easy to picture, that despite the reader knowing it to be unhealthy or odd behaviour there was something very clear, logical and reassuring about it. 

Perhaps that's what makes this such a compelling read. Frankie is such an easy character to engage with, to empathise with and although we may not fully understand her, there is a sense of wanting to and a sense of accepting her. There is also a great balance in the tone of voice. There is grief, sadness, meandering and reflection but there is also wit, and Frankie can be sharp, cruel and shrewd. She is likeable and this is an accessible novel. The reader was able to almost understand the fragility of Frankie's mind and relate to her depression.

I am over using the word powerful in this review but it's the only one that really seems to fit.  I would also add intriguing, compelling and rhythmic. This novel is fresh, intelligent and highly accomplished. If you love books which show a profound use of language, or are fascinated by novels exploring the inner monologue of a complicated character, then I'd definitely recommend it. 

A Line Made By Walking by Sara Baume is published by William Heinemann in paperback on the 8th March 2018.