Dark, understated and densely vivid

Jessie Neilson reviews The End of Loneliness by Benedict Wells. Published by Hachette.

It is the mid-'80s, and when the three Munich-born Moreau siblings lose their parents in a car crash in France they are sent off to a run-down boarding school, where they attempt to protect themselves against outpourings of grief.

Their vibrant, Fleetwood Mac record-playing mother had been the star of their family and, together with their, at times, dark but no less characterful father, had given the children holidays in the south of France and soulful Christmases accompanied by guitar playing and togetherness.

Yet, as the youngest child, Jules, narrates in retrospect in the opening lines: ``I've known Death a long time, but now Death knows me, too''.

In a mere wink of a second their carefree childhoods had been wiped out.

Jules at 11 had been intrepid, prone to forsaking caution for adventure and with a penchant for classic photography.

Through the lens of his father's old Mamiya he explored how images came to life.

However, he also has introverted aspects which take over post-tragedy, and he becomes a ``ghost, a tiny creature ... numb and empty'', where his once inner sense of security has twisted into a feeling that sometimes clenches inside him.

Middle child Marty, who had been ``nondescript ... an alien'', who played with ant colonies and dissected salamanders, is now a closed door with a computer addiction, channelling the emo-look with long, greasy hair, ubiquitous leather coat and a face ``the colour of old paper''.

Eldest Liz, meanwhile, is in her element as a drama queen, always speaking that little bit louder than normal, projecting her personality, and throwing herself into the partying scene.

Benedict Wells is a German novelist in his early 30s and The End of Loneliness is his fourth novel and the 2016 winner of the European Union Prize for Literature.        

His books have been translated into nearly 30 languages.

His main character and first-person narrator here is a deep-thinking, convincing individual who struggles mostly alone as he tries to deal with the fallout within his family.

He staves off complete interior isolation when he meets the likewise troubled Alva, a classmate harbouring childhood sorrow as well.

Meandering through the 1980s, the 1990s and up until the contemporary world of the novel, the friendships between these two, family members and other secondary characters are strained and sometimes broken, as they all negotiate their ways separately forward.

Jules often doubts that the life he is living is concrete; that his real life, the one before the calamity of childhood, is playing out underneath.

The author has his own deeply buried ghosts, and he has changed his name in order to distance himself from a legacy he utterly abhors.

Born into the noble von Schirach family, his grandparents and great-grandparents were part of Hitler's inner circle and leading proponents of Nazism.

Wells is a hugely accomplished storyteller.

He guides the plot of his novel along with dexterity, as it shifts between picturesque settings in France, a lively Berlin and an almost gothic retreat, the latter which opens up a whole new, fantastical part of the storyline.

The author and his characters weave decades, locations and quirks of personality throughout this story, which is at once dark, understated and densely vivid.

Jessie Neilson is a University of Otago library assistant.

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