England, England

Rating:
Summary: A novel idea, but not a great novel.
Review: A character in a Graham Swift novel complains that England is degenerating into a "high-class" Disneyland. In "England, England," Julian Barnes takes that none-too-original idea as the germ for his satire on modern-day Blighty. The problem is that a novel idea does not always add up to a great novel. I was actually reminded more of H. G. Wells' "Tono-Bungay" than of anything by Swift when I read this novel, and the potential is there for a pointed satire on "Cool" Britannia. However, the satire in "England, England" never really develops. I had the feeling, when I got to the end, that the middle third of the novel was missing. I am a great fan of Julian Barnes and have never before felt that any of his novels were underwritten. This time, however, I was left wanting more. Sir Jack Pitman, the book's most interesting character, is caught in flagrante about halfway into the book and practically disappears from its pages, leaving Barnes to focus on the near-colorless Martha Cochrane, who, as the little girl that grew beans competitively and worked jigsaw-puzzle maps of Britain, is meant to represent the salt of her native earth. Unfortunately for Barnes' readers, she lacks piquancy altogether. There are lots of laughs along the way, including a set piece involving a latter-day Dr. Johnson, who takes his role as the Great Cham in Sir Jack's theme park to heart and develops a commercially unhealthy fatalism, but the whole of "England, England" is much less than the sum of its parts.

Rating:
Summary: The role of memory
Review: As a confirmed Anglophile and fan of anything relating to England, the concept of this book caught my attention. An entrepenuer wants to locate all of England's tourist attractions onto the Isle of Wight in an attempt to create an idealized England. Why should tourists have to travel all around the nation when they can visit every attraction and quintessential moment of history in one location? (Even if those attractions aren't necessarily the originals.)

Barnes' narrative begins with the memories of its main character Martha as she tries to figure out the truth and the lies of one's memory. This introductory chapter is a well-written examination into how we construct the memories of our youth. The novel then tries to examine how we construct the memories of our history and national identity. Martha works for Sir Jack Pitman and helps him develop his idea of the perfect England. They renovate the Isle of Wight to include attractions such as Big Ben, the Tower of London and a scaled down Buckingham Palace, complete with King and Queen. There are, of course, cream teas and various pubs, along with a crew of actors who re-enact the Battle of Britain, Robin Hood and his Merrie Men and other famous acts of history that are essential to one's notion of what makes England, England.

Yet things are not perfect on this idealized island that becomes known as England, England. While tourism booms on the island, Old England falls apart with its main industry gone. Barnes examines what happens to memory when it is molded to fit expectations instead of historical accurracy. While at times uneven, and with a few storylines that seem unnecessary, "England, England" succeeds in its examination of the role memory plays in each of our lives, and in the shaping of our past and present.

Rating:
Summary: Jurassic Park Meets Monty Python
Review: In Julian Barnes' extremely cynical work, England, England we find, not only terrific one-liners, but the finest example of that driest brand of wit so peculiar to the British Isles.

England, England tells the story of Sir Jack Pitman, an ambitious but clumsy business tycoon who entertains, to put it mildly, illusions (or could it be delusions) of grandeur.

A patriot in the extreme, Sir Jack gazes at his beloved England on the eve of the third millennium and is dismayed by what he sees: a tired and haggard Empire, one that has run its course and one on which the sun is just about to set for the very last time. As Sir Jack seeks to enliven both England and his own private empire, he hatches a novel idea.

England, Pitman decides, could and should, become the center of world tourism. The world may have become jaded, Sir Jack decides, but England, with its rich history and centuries of accumulated wisdom, still has much to offer. Rightly or wrongly, Sir Jack decides that tourists would be just as happy viewing an historical replica as they would the real thing. With this idea in mind, he sets out to create England, England on the Isle of Wight, a small island off the southern coast of England. England, England is no Disneyworld, however, replete with dizzying rides and silly cartoon characters, and as Sir Jack strives to recreate all that the United Kingdom has come to symbolize, he decides to open this lavish theme park only to those with the most pristine of credit ratings.

Pitman's assembled staff are quite an interesting mix. One of the best and, paradoxically, one of the worst, is Martha Cochrane, a cynical, bright and empty woman, hired specifically to elevate England, England to a level of absurdity previously unknown.

Nothing is spared in bringing Sir Jack's dream to fruition and England, England emerges as the total British experience, complete with historical figures and pubs that dispense the requisite warm beer.

In England, England, appearances are the most important thing. Writing with biting satire and a darkly misanthropic vision, Barnes fashions Pitman into a man who cares little for historical accuracy, but simply wants to make people feel better than they really are. At its heart, England, England is one of the most stinging indictments of today's corporate business practices and the erosion of social values that support the pursuit of money at the cost of personal humanity and freedom.

Although England, England may be just a bit too British for the general American readership, I think most will still find this book immensely enjoyable. The characters are more than a little despicable, but each receives a reward that is proportionate to his deeds.

Barnes, as always, writes brilliantly, and this alone, makes the book worth reading. Although I loved England, England, I can understand why many people may ultimately feel depressed by its theme and come to feel that we all, rather than just Barnes' characters, unfortunately, live in a world devoid of hope.