Let's get this out of the way, right at the start – Apple
Tree Yard is wonderfully written. From its brilliant opening, it held me
throughout, and I was completely absorbed by the story. If you haven't read it
yet, forget about this post as it may contain some spoilers, and I wouldn't
want to lessen your enjoyment of a really good book.
For those of you who have
read it, I've no problem with the novel itself, but when I finished it, there
was a sense of something not quite right, something missing. For me the issue
was simply this: I didn't like Yvonne Carmichael. I didn't particularly like any of the principle characters – nor
should I need to in order to enjoy a book – but the more time I spent in
Yvonne's head, the more I felt that she wasn't as nice a person as she thought
she was.
To be clear, I'm not
referring to the horrible crime – and for the record, I was grimly pleased
about what happened to Craddock – but rather to Yvonne's thoughts regarding her
family.
Perhaps it's because I simply can't empathise with a parent
who harbours resentment towards their own children. Although it's beautifully subtle,
there's a sense that Yvonne feels somehow unrewarded by her family. She's
worked the hardest, sacrificed the most, and put her career second (even though
it's apparent that she's reached the top in her field anyway). While the
relationship with her husband is more ambiguous, she does appear to have alienated her children – in fact, almost
everyone in the story seems able to get along better without her on the scene.
She's not a stupid character – far from it – and she has a
good insight into most people she encounters. And yet, when she describes her
relationship with her children, there's a selfish undertone in the way she
spins certain situations for sympathy.
None of this is a criticism of the book. It's a testament to
the writing that I felt I was uncovering things about a real person. And of
course, whenever we form opinions of other people, such opinions are
subjective.
It simply made me wonder… how important is it that we
actively like characters? When I
think back over books I've enjoyed the most, there is usually a strong
character that I like, or like to hate. Yvonne didn't elicit either feeling.
Perhaps other readers don't need such a particular emotional
connection to their characters. Or perhaps it's just that I lack the life
experience to appreciate or empathise with a character like Yvonne. In any
event, it's something I'll be thinking about in whatever I read next.
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