THE FRIENDLY ONES

PHILIP HENSHER 4TH ESTATE, $35

Love, compassion, sympathy, empathy, neighbourliness – how do we describe the ties that bind us to those around us? What are the obligations and responsibilities of these bonds?

Hensher explores these ancient questions in his latest, characteristically voluminous, novel. They are issues which have challenged writers from the Ancient Greek tragedians, through Shakespeare and the Victorians and John Galsworthy, right up to modern times.

The title suggests these historical precedents. The

Friendly Ones is the euphemistic name for the Greek Furies, who brought vengeance and retribution, and ultimately peace. They are also the Norse gods of the atmosphere. Important to this novel, they were the secret Bangladeshi patriots who pursued peace with Pakistan. It is also a descriptor for neighbours of compassion.

The family saga begins in a house in Sheffield. A Bangladeshi family of academics shares a meal. Suddenly, one of the children chokes. He is rescued from death by a neighbour, Dr Hilary Spinster. His name evokes the Greeks too, as the spinner of the thread of life in the Fates. The two families’ lives are now irrevocably intertwined.

It is a bold opening by Hensher. His Bengali voice seems an act of ventriloquism which borders on the outrageous. He pulls it off, however: the family is presented warmly, sympathetically. It is the English family, the Spinsters, who emerge less positively.

The story moves between the two families. Hilary’s wife, Celia, is dying in hospital. She is visited by each of her four children, with varying degrees of attachment to her. Hilary himself struggles with

controlling his emotions, talking of divorce, yet maintaining constant vigil over her. The neighbours, the Sharifullahs, are increasingly drawn in.

A moment of crisis arrives when Leo Spinster, a failed journalist, receives a love letter from Aisha Sharifullah. It is a youthful, rash but beautiful letter and his response is patronising. Aisha later describes it as like “a vicar on the radio”. It will haunt both him and her.

Hensher is an astute recorder of these crises. He illuminates the moment, its causes and the ramifications. It becomes a minor pivot within the novel and reverberates through the pages. It is this ability, among others, which lifts his earlier works, such as The Northern Clemency, to great heights.

Likewise, Hensher excels at analysing, thread by thread, the fabric of social transformation. Chronologically, the novel begins with the diaspora of the Bengalis after their war with Pakistan in 1971. This was also a time of growing social upheaval in Britain, continuing into the Thatcher era.

Hensher’s attention to detail comes at a cost. The novel is certainly long, at nearly 600 pages. Structurally, it is also imbalanced. Each of the families disappear for long stretches at various points. Characters drift in and out.

But the effort in following these families is well repaid. The saga is a great exploration of major issues. Hensher writes with typical grace and aplomb. His characters are deeply drawn and engaging. The real friendly ones are these characters themselves.