July 11, 2016

Everyone Brave is Forgiven - Chris Cleave


Simon & Schuster, May 3, 2016.



Five Stars



Cleave has a major talent for language – he showed it off in his first novel Incendiary, and again in Little Bee. His talent is here again in full force, but in this new novel it is more traditional, in a British war time stiff-upper-lip kind of way. His writing is still clever, smart and fresh, and laugh out loud funny. I love a good British turn of phrase, silly as they sometimes seem, and they are sprinkled throughout this novel in a wonderfully fun way. Cleave is once again playing with language, but this time in a more subtle way.


In 1939, Mary is a young socialite, determined to participate in the war effort. Her naivety is difficult to read, as it is representative of all the young people who wanted to “do their part” during the war, seeing the whole thing as an adventure, and unaware of how bad it will really be. She volunteers to work as a teacher for children who have been evacuated to the English countryside, but she ends up remaining in London with the kids who were left behind, seen as unfit for evacuation because of illness, disability, or, like her favourite student Zachary, because of the colour of their skin. Mary begins the novel as a thoughtless, upper class snob, but you can’t help but admire her as she develops into a strong, unique woman.


Mary begins dating Tom, an education administrator who did not enlist as a soldier because his job is deemed to be a necessary service. At first he is glad, but later he becomes depressed because he is not contributing to the war effort. His best friend Alastair has just enlisted, thinking he is off to a great adventure – but he too soon becomes disillusioned with his role in the war, as he watches his friends become injured or simply disappear after stepping on a mine. When Alastair has a brief visit home, he becomes involved in a love triangle with Mary and Tom – he doesn’t want to hurt his best friend, but Alastair cannot deny his feelings for Mary.


The relationship between Mary and Alastair is loosely based on letters written between Cleave’s own grandparents during the war, although he admits that the story evolved beyond his original concept. Everyone Brave is Forgiven is different from Cleave’s earlier novels due to the historical setting, but he once again confronts important political issues. He addresses social injustices that are not always considered in the shadow of World War II, including the poor treatment towards the disenfranchised British people – the poor, the black, and the disabled. Mary’s tossing aside of the prejudices of her social class make her the real hero of this story.


Alastair is probably the most deeply developed character in the novel. Before the war, he was an art restorer – when he finds himself stationed on a small island during a reprieve from battle, he ends up restoring a painting from the local church that was damaged by bombs. He is desperate to hold onto his former self and the symbols of civilization, amidst the horrors of war. This is especially shown during the scene in which Alastair steps in to save a German pilot who has crash-landed on the island. He is trying to do a small bit of good, humanizing the enemy – but the scene ends violently, and the consequences of his actions are disturbing, even as they propel the action of the novel forward to its inevitable conclusion.


Cleave manages to put a human face to the war, through the drastically different experiences of Tom, Alastair, Mary and Zachary. None of the characters has a truly happy ending, because simplistic happiness is not possible after their wartime experiences. More importantly, the ending is authentic, and they manage to forge a new kind of life for themselves. It is bittersweet – predictable overall, but surprising in the details. My only complaint is that there is another potential novel to be found in Zachary’s story, and I hope to read it someday.


I received this novel from Simon & Schuster and NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

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