Katy Mahood: Entanglement
The Borough Press 2018
“Trains don’t stop at every station.”
— A mother’s response to her child’s query, from a moving railway carriage.
“Ships that pass in the night,” as Longfellow wrote, are like all us humans “on the ocean of life,” engaging with “only a look and a voice, then darkness again and a silence.” Sometimes there is not even that look or voice, the encounter completely unconscious, and yet the voyagers may still have unforseeable influences on each other.
This is the kernel at the heart of Katy Mahood’s impressive debut novel Entanglements. The title refers to a concept in quantum physics, a connection (as I understand it) whereby subatomic particles may be separated by distance but still affect one another; observation of this connection, paradoxically, causes it to change or even cease to be.
Of course, non-physicists see entanglement in a much more mundane way, along with the frustration that comes from strands of string or wool being intertwined, and this more prosaic aspect is present too as a potent symbol in this most engaging of novels.
Entanglement concerns two men, two women and two daughters, how their lives run like railway tracks in parallel or occasionally cross, though they themselves are rarely if ever aware of those crossing points. We meet Charlie, Beth and, eventually, daughter Effie, and also John, Stella and their daughter Hope. Over some three decades and more we follow one couple, then another, back and forth, observing how (unknown to them) their lives often intersect, how even Longfellow’s “a look and a voice” may happen without any of them making a connection or even recognising one.
I’m making this sound contrived, but yet it’s not. These are individuals with familiar hopes and fears, living lives in a Britain that slowly changes, forcing them to adapt or else be consigned to oblivion. There are infidelities and loyalties, addictions and crises, violent events and dreams revisited. The author’s own life spans the decades covered by this novel: she faithfully captures the subtle changes in ambitions, in public attitudes and habits, she charts the often painful processes of maturing and the honest acknowledging of frailties.
The all too human foibles of the individuals are laid bare, and this reader wanted to shout at them for contrary behaviours, commiserate with them over setbacks, praise them for successes — all strong indications of how well the author had invested in her protagonists. There is a lingering sadness behind the final redemptive optimism that to me felt true to life, with the various journeys brought to a satisfying conclusion.
And entanglement metaphors and similes reach from the pages into real life. Railway stations feature strongly as individuals travel north to York and Edinburgh, south to Cornwall, west from London to Oxford, Bristol and South Wales, places known to the author either from her academic or subsequent career. Implied lines in novels submitted for publication and melodic lines in orchestral scores hint at further interlacing of ideas; and a further real-life intertwining comes, post-publication, with the present reviewer finally meeting the author at a literary festival, following a quarter century gap since teaching her music at secondary school.
With such entanglings are all our lives marked. May it be that they are not all followed by darkness and silence.