I didn’t remember the name Karen Joy Fowler, although I later realised that I did read one of her books (‘The Jane Austen Book Club’) over a decade ago. But when I saw ‘We are all completely beside ourselves’ at a church book sale last year, with some positive reviews and a note that it was shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize 2014, I decided to buy it.
I had no idea what the book would be about when I started to read it; the blurb on the back is a little vague, describing a girl called Rosemary whose father ran psychological experiments, and who is no longer in touch with her two siblings. Having now read the book, I can see why the blurb is so vague, because to say much more would be to give quite a spoiler.
The storyline is very cleverly written, with quite a surprise after a few chapters - one that took me several pages to understand. Rosemary narrates the story in a chatty kind of way, addressing the reader at times as she explains just why she is saying something specific. She starts in the middle, something she’s apparently been told to do, and we gradually build up her character from her actions and thoughts.
The middle of the story - which begins in Chapter One - is set initially in a university canteen. Rosemary has been at university for some time, funded by her parents, but not doing particularly well although she hopes she might eventually gain something useful out of it. She’s eating her lunch, minding her own business when she overhears a couple arguing, and then the girl starts shouting and throwing plates. Rosemary stands up, and for some reason the police - who arrive fairly promptly - assume she’s involved.
It’s a dramatic start to a novel, one that shows her as basically a likeable person, even if rather demotivated. We learn that as a child she was a great talker but that now she’s learned to keep quiet most of the time. And this first chapter introduces Harlow, the girl who has been plate throwing. Harlow recurs in Rosemary’s life, although I never found her more than two-dimensional, and couldn’t relate to her at all.
There’s a bit of a mystery surrounding the disappearance of Rosemary’s siblings Lowell and Fern. We get brief flashes of memory, followed by some commentary, dropping hints but not really explaining anything until the unexpected part of the book happens and suddenly everything feels clearer. I almost went back to the beginning to re-read at this point, but didn’t do so; the book is interesting, and well constructed, but not so riveting that I wanted to read everything again.
Due to the psychological background, there are snippets of psychological research or theories thrown into the book here and there. So Rosemary acknowledges that her memory may be faulty - that she has repressed or ignored some thoughts, and that she may have built up apparent memories on an internal screen which don't in fact relate to reality. And yet she comes across as a person of integrity, even if rather manipulative and jealous as a small child.
The story is fascinating, educational in parts, and including a few quite controversial topics. Towards the end there's a strong agenda regarding animal rights, the evils of animal testing, the abuse of farm animals, and related issues. As a not-quite-vegetarian who’s very against animal testing, I found some brief scenes disturbing, but had no disagreement with what was said. Others would feel more strongly then I did, and some with different viewpoints might feel the book is biassed towards the animal rights movement.
I doubt if I’ll read this again, but it was a very interesting book, well-written and even including some low-key humour in places. It's a book which I would definitely recommend, so long as you don’t mind a storyline that jumps around in time, and a chatty, informal kind of narration that disguises some quite significant issues.
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