The Dark Flood Rises: A Novel

The Dark Flood Rises is not a novel I should have liked. It is mostly tell, not show. The few direct quotes are buried in long paragraphs of narration. The point of view hops from character to character, sometimes two or three times in a single page. Once in a while, an omniscient narrator intrudes in the manner of a nineteenth century novel. None of the characters experience a dramatic arc unless death and increasing decrepitude qualify for internal transformation. All have had successful careers, with multiple published books among them, and they all know one another, proving again that England must be a very small country. The author has an intimidating vocabulary; not even the online dictionaries I checked knew several of the words, at least not in the context they were used. And there are some dreadful examples of overwriting. (E.g., describing the cessation of a series of earthquakes: “the surges of time’s troubled fountains have abated.”) Yet I did enjoy it as a meditation on aging, although it began with a depressing thesis: "Her inspections of evolving models of residential care and care homes for the elderly have made her aware of the infinitely clever and complex and inhumane delays and devices we create to avoid and deny death, to avoid fulfilling our destiny and arriving at our destination." Indeed, the old in the book either lie moribund in a sybaritic antechamber to death (tastes differ, of course: for one it’s neon-colored meals in chain hotels, for another it’s drinking only the best wines) or divert themselves with trivial intellectual projects (the shape of clouds or deceased wife’s sisters fiction.) The young (albeit, not too much younger) at least work on social improvement (a doctor in Africa, a filmmaker documenting the European immigration crisis, a climate change activist), yet it’s not clear their projects are different from their parents’, they just have an expanded range to work in. I don’t know if the author intended it, but I was left with the impression that all humans spend our lives in the denial of death. It's more obvious for the elderly, not just that they are closer to the inevitability of death, but they physically (and often mentally) have less room to play in. Despite lapses, the novel is beautifully written. (E.g., “He is as indistinct as water is in water.") The discursive internal dialogues of each character reveal the extremely intelligent and sophisticated mind that conjured them.

As a 70-something myself, I found this book to be simultaneously both discomfiting and comforting especially in its treatment of the thoughts and preoccupations of people in the “twilight” of their lives. Drabble has a way of being irreverent about life and death while honoring the mystery and unpredictability of them at the same time. Her character studies in this book are complex and delicately rendered. The end result for me was to feel in good company and less fearful about my own future. Never having read Drabble before, I am interested now in exploring more of her work to see if she strikes a chord in me with other subjects.

The writing with margaret Drabble is always good but these characters were not engaging. The women were all unable to be in relationships for various reasons. I didn’t care what happened to these characters.

What a joy to read this latest book by one of my favorite authors. As with her other books, Drabble creates a universe populated with numerous characters who all share a long backstory and mutual history. Her writing is so complex, so dense, her characters so well conceived, it requires a reader's attention, and the rewards are many. And as with many of her other books, there is a personal connection, an observation of the present condition. Here, Dame Drabble, herself 77 years old, looks at the so-called "golden years," and creates characters who are (mostly) inhabitants of that ironically named time of life, with humor, compassion, and clear-eyed realism. What house do you want to die in? Fran just ignores her advanced age, living in a low-rent "tower" where the elevator is far from reliable, she spins around Britain visiting old friends and facilities, doesn't let the rotten weather keep her from her rounds, and prepares dinners for Claude, an ex-husband who is enjoying this time with a complacent cat and Callas. Ivor and Bennett, a gay couple of 50 years' duration, chose the Canary Isles for their final days, and Josephine is still teaching literature to elderly students. There is so much vibrancy in this book, it's wonderful to see Drabble hasn't lost her touch, and makes me want to return to The Radiant Way trilogy, read over 30 years ago, her examination of life in the Thatcher years.

Being the same age as Fran, the book spoke one! No one can imagine old age until you have arrived. Throughly enjoyed the book and Frans outlook on death and the rest of what's left of life.

This recent book by Margaret Drabble continues her themes of involvement with the lives of characters as they struggle with the problems many of us face. Her characters are now older and are dealing with issues regarding aging. Her central character inspects homes for the elderly for a non profit organization. We follow her as she Tavel she around England on these inspection tours at the same time that she deals with her aging friends and her children. The novel provides an excellent examination of many of the problems we must face as we age from a variety of perspectives. Drabble balances a keen sense of humor as she observes her characters with a strong compassion for them.

I was disappointed in the recent Drabble novel. The stories that intersect: a woman who spends her old age inspecting old age homes, and a son who sponges on visits to gay friends, were less than fascinating. I felt that Cynthia Ozick's review in the New York Times oversold this book. Ultimately the characters repelled me and did not motivate me to finish the book. About two-thirds of the way through I decided to cheat and cut to the last twenty pages. Here Fran was again, this time taking public transport around Blackpool, symbolically a faded seaside resort, with no more insight than she had at the beginning of the tale. If this had not been written by Margaret Drabble, I don't think it would be a best-seller.

I really liked this book. It's rare to find a novel starring old women as the central characters. More, please! And the travel insights were delightful.

Very readable but disappointed.

Once you get into this book it is charming and very funny. Drabble's humour is sly and sort of creeps up on you. I thought the beginning was a bit slow and then I was hooked.

Margaret Drabble is my favourite author, but I prefer her early novels. The later ones just don't grip me in the same way, and this one is no exception.