Pleasantly tepid
A story of public baths under threat gets stuck up the shallow end.
peril, of reader-concerning drama. There are a few too many “hot, angry tears” and at least two people with a “strong south London accent”.
There’s not a hint of snark, of sly everyday humour: every thank you, okay and goodbye in every conversation is recorded in full. This is the concession matinee session of Marigold Hotel meets Two Weeks Notice with a dash of Pride.
And that’s totally fine. It will be a lovely movie. Cinema can take this much sugar. I’m not unhappy I spent time with Kate and Rosemary, but I’ll be giving the probable Judi Dench-Daisy Ridley pair-up a miss.
It’s sometimes said that critics should go easy on debut novels. Appraisal should be tempered, as a new author has achieved the very difficult feat of finishing a work of fiction and getting it into print.
But what if the novel is being released in a couple of dozen countries, UK and US publishers having paid six-figure sums each, and the film rights have been snapped up by a reputable production house? Surely its twentysomething author can bear a few critical observations?
Brixton, present day. Kate, a newbie reporter for the local paper, has moved to London from the provinces to a dismal shared flat. She is lost and lonely. The local open-air swimming pool comes under threat from a developer who has the council’s ear, and Kate latches onto swimmer Rosemary, 86, for the story and what is to become a May-September friendship.
The early part of the novel roams around the suburb, home to many of London’s African-Caribbean community, and sets the scene well. The central pair have an authentic solidity. Kate’s depressive
moods and attacks of reasonless dread – the Panic – ring true. Author Libby Page has an ear for a metaphor, and the writing is pleasant, thoughtful – to a point. The story and surrounding characters – multicultural, sexuality-inclusive – are a gift for the screen.
The story is sweet; in fact, one might call it treacly, especially the noble fight to save the pool and the flashbacks to Rosemary’s beloved husband. And that’s both the novel’s strength and weakness. There’s not a single surprise, not a moment of
This is the matinee session of Marigold Hotel meets Two Weeks Notice with a dash of Pride.