Martin John by Anakana Schofield

I think for the first time since I started these reviews, that I have been tempted not to finish a book--just toss it aside and move on to something else. And if I had not invested so much time into it, and had allowed myself enough time to read another book and still meet my weekly deadline I probably would have. That is not to say that this is not a good, possibly even great, novel, but it drained me of thought and energy. It is utterly exhausting.

Martin John is the story of mentally ill man told largely from his own perspective.  I am no psychologist, but he seems to suffer from obsessions and compulsions, hoarding, paranoia, hallucinations, memory loss (possibly faked or possibly the result of his medications), and a disturbing range of sexual dysfunctions.  Much of the novel is told in a stream of consciousness inside Martin John's own mind. It is random, repetitive, disjointed, chaotic, and utterly exhausting. The fact that it so envelops you in his mental state is proof that the novel is powerfully written.   Indeed, Martin John is a master class in the use of perspective and voice. But I was disturbed by the lack of order--it moves through different timeframes, jumps from the perspective of Martin John to his mother to a woman he has assaulted and random observers. Each character offers up a slice of the story, but in ways that make it difficult to establish a coherent chain of events. No doubt this disorder is indicative of the protagonist's state of mind, but it just tired me out.

The descriptions of his actions and the motivations behind them are evocative without being compelling.  Any woman who has had a strange man rub up against her inappropriately in a crowded train (and let's face it that's just about every woman who has ever ridden in a crowded train) will recognize him.  It brought back strong memories of similar situations from my own past. Yet that recognition doesn't seem to be offered up with any startling insights, so it strikes me as sad, pointless and utterly exhausting.

It does have moments of wit, but they do not make up for the sheer tediousness of being in Martin John's head for so many hundreds of pages.  Sadly, I can only recommend it to someone with more sympathy and significantly more energy than I have.

Two and half out of five smileys.😊😊😶