‘Like’ by Ali Smith
At long last we arrive at the final instalment in my ‘debut novel month’ roundup - Like by Ali Smith. It may not have been that long since I read (and loved) The Accidental, however, as was the case with Siri Hustvedt, I enjoyed the more recent work so much I simply had to go back and read the one that started it all. In this case, Like is that very work. While it is of course a debut novel, first published in 1997 I might add, not once does it feel like one when you are reading it. From the very first sentence Ali Smith’s lucidity and wit are plain to see, as is her eye for the finer details that many authors overlook, be it willingly or unwillingly. Allow me to elaborate a little…
The first half of Like is told from the perspective of a young English woman named Amy Shone who, for one reason or another, lives in a caravan park in Scotland with an eight-year-old girl named Kate who, we eventually surmise, is her daughter. Their life together, though seemingly pleasant, is by no means orthodox: there is no father figure to speak of, and Amy and Kate call one another only by their first names. Yet their relationship is a close and loving one. One day, following a pitstop at her parents’ cottage somewhere on the outskirts of London, Amy decides to take Kate on an eye-opening trip to Naples in Italy, specifically to see Mount Vesuvius and the ancient city of Pompeii. These chapters are perhaps the most captivating part of Like. The hustle and bustle of Ercolano rail station, the exaggerated erotic art that crowds the ancient ruins, the latent activity of Vesuvius herself - Ali Smith describes all of it with startling reverence. The overall effect is one of being there.
The second half of Like, which, unlike the preceding part, is written in the first person, is told from the POV of Ash. Following a fiendishly clever segue from a description of the smoke and ash surrounding an active volcano, we soon discover that Ash - her full name is Aisling McCarthy, just to clarify - is an old love interest of Amy’s. Unlike the former half of the novel, which is predominantly linear and rather straightforward in its version of events, the latter half is far more visceral and jumps between different time periods (seventies, eighties, nineties) almost imperceptibly. In terms of sheer storytelling the second half of Like is undoubtedly the weaker of the two, however it is also the more endearing half, peppered as it is with incendiary pieces of description and vivid recollections of past trysts.
As I mentioned in the introduction, Like feels nothing like a debut novel. The fact that it is is just remarkable. While many debut novels understandably show restraint, particularly in stylistic terms, Like never once lets up. Ali Smith’s writing is as fast and loose here as it is in The Accidental and, though sharp and lucid, her prose is shot through with quirky little repetitions and embellishments which make clear that hers is an inimitable voice. Like, particularly its second half, bears no trace of being subjected to the editor’s ruthless eye and, while the ending may feel rather ambiguous and leave a few too many questions unanswered, this only serves to enhance the novel’s untamed charm.
This piece was originally published on alisonlaurabell.tumblr.com in October 2012.