Underground Reading: The Silent Land by Graham Joyce
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Zoe and Jake have decided to treat themselves to an expensive skiing holiday. They originally met on the slopes and, having been married for years now, have decided to enjoy a luxurious resort in the Pyrenees. They're both accomplished skiers and could do with having some time to themselves on the gorgeous (and remote) slopes.
Graham Joyce's The Silent Land (2010) begins with the couple sneaking out early so they can be alone on the slopes. I've never skied, but Mr. Joyce describes the virgin snow and brisk air with such loving care that even I can understand the temptation. Zoe and Jake do a bit of loving gazing and then, swoosh, down the mountain - carving the first marks on the landscape.
Sadly, this idyllic scene is ruined by a distinctly unromantic avalanche. The couple desperately zip towards cover but the cascade of snow catches them and knocks them sprawling. Fade to black (or a whole lot of white).
The book restarts with Zoe trapped in a cocoon of snow, struggling to get free. The frenetic few pages in which she wrestles with her panic as she claws to get some - any - space are horrifying and amazing. The Silent Land should come with a warning label to ward off claustrophobic readers.
Zoe and Jake eventually make their way back down the mountain and find that the resort and the surrounding village have both been evacuated. Their morning wish for solitude has been granted tenfold. Initially, the isolation is a blessing. While they recover from their experience on the slopes, the two treat themselves to the hotel's food, wine and, as the days go on, high-end ski equipment. What began as a horror has become a dream vacation. The two, very much in love, enjoy one another's company and the freedom of being alone.
Things turn ominous when Zoe and Jake realise that freedom is an illusion. As they try to explore the boundaries of the resort, they come to see that they are trapped. Whatever happened to their village has landed them in a prison. A beautiful, isolated prison, but a prison nonetheless. Zoe and Jake begin to spy irregularities as well - time passes in strange ways and some of the laws of physics are strangely malleable.
Are they alive? Are they dead? Are they mad, in a coma or back in time? Zoe, the viewpoint character, isn't even sure she wants to know. Both she and Jake are aware of - and repressing - the feeling that, wherever they are, it might not be permanent. Is that good? Or will they be heading someplace far worse...
The Silent Land isn't traditional horror - or fantasy, for that matter. The bulk of the book is simply Zoe and Jake going about their everyday activities: getting firewood, flashbacks, making meals, finding clothing, having sex, going skiing. In ordinary circumstances, this would be one hell of a vacation. In the circumstances of this book, they may just be in Hell.
That uncertainty is what makes The Silent Land such an interesting and absorbing book. Zoe and Jake never really learn anything until the final pages, but Mr. Joyce fills the book with a growing sense of distress that keeps the reader engaged. Something is coming. Zoe and Jake alternately welcome and fear the idea of change. In the mean time, their own connected becomes more and more strained. Zoe and Jake's relationship is the protagonist of the book, and its survival becomes the most important concern.
The flip side of all this unrequited tension is that The Silent Land isn't a hugely exciting book. The two characters tromp around in the snow, occasionally sneer at one another and neck some fine wine. There's never even a sense of genuine terror - just an ever-increasing existential angst. The Silent Land is thoughtful - and even beautifully-written - but it isn't all that entertaining. Zoe and Jake are by-the-book empathetic in their middle-class charm and prescription-flawed marriage. However, despite having access to Zoe's thoughts and Jake's flashbacks, they very rarely open up to one another. For a book investigating the nature of love, that becomes a little frustrating. Especially since, outside of their fretting and (strangely endearing) sniping, there's not that much going on.
The ending of The Silent Land is also a bit too neat. The book is packed with Significant Events and Meaningful Omens. Rather than leave anything to the imagination, the denoument diligently discloses every nuance of the mystery. It is both considerate and disappointing. Throughout, The Silent Land is a brave exploration of the nature of modern relationships and the power of memory. Having all the clever symbolism explained certainly makes the book a bit easier, but it feels self-conscious; perhaps even timid. Even if the mystery did need to be openly unpicked, the Tea Cozy monologue felt like a quick and compulsive way of doing it.
The Silent Land is an ambitious work and contains a lot that is laudable. It is thoughtful, intense, short (brevity is a lost genre virtue) and uses a layer of the fantastic as a tool to examine real character issues. However, I think it holds itself back from brilliance. Although beautifully constructed, it never had the deep emotional resonance it required. Combined with the hesitant ending, The Silent Land felt like more like a brave experiment than a notable success.