Title: The Understudy
Author: David Nicholls
Date started: Friday 9th July 2010
Date finished: Friday 9th July 2010
So after making the bleary-eyed decision to bunk off work today to catch up on sleep and then suffering the inevitable insomnia that, in a cruel twist of fate, followed, I decided to take a trip over to the library. Having managed to make my selection in record time, no doubt in part due to the sweltering temperatures and my inability to see the shelves due to the misting-up of my glasses, I managed to crawl home in the blazing sun to make a start on my stack of five books, The Understudy being the first one I opened. Having watched the film version of Nicholls' bestselling Starter For Ten and finding myself empathising with Brian Jackson, the novel's protagonist, I rather wanted to actually read the book itself, but my local library being the depressingly under stocked institution that it is, I had to settle for The Understudy as an consolation prize. Luckily for me, this transpired to be a stroke of luck, as Nicholls' sophomore novel is truly a delight in its own right. Sticking with the same formula of likeable-but-essentially-rather-average protagonist falling for out-of-his-league woman, Nicholls' setting moves from anonymous university to the bright lights and glamour of London's Theatreland. Except for Stephen C. McQueen, the only lights he's seeing are the cracked, flickering bulbs around his dressing room mirror, located on the musty and forgotten about top floor of the West End theatre he is currently performing at, a physical metaphor for his career. Unlike his ironic namesake (a pun often played on by peripheral characters throughout the book, much to the frustration of our protagonist - casual cruelty can often be the worst kind), Steve isn't enjoying any level of success - at thirty-two, he's divorced with a seven year old daughter who knows significantly more French than he does, and a career about as lively as the corpses he seems to find himself portraying with unnerving regularity. Although he may have landed himself a shot at the leading role in a sell-out West End show, the fact of the matter is that he is the understudy to Josh Harper, the nation's heartthrob and recently voted 12th Sexiest man in the World, who is in possession of good looks, a beautiful and intelligent wife and, unfortunately for Stephen, a cast-iron constitution, relegating him each night to a miserable role which involves him squeezing into a black wool/Lycra mix unitard. Overall, things aren't looking good for our protagonist. I'm sorry to say that things don't really get any better for Steve, with every seeming instance of good fortune having a sting in the tail, much like they do in real life. What's so endearing about The Understudy is that it possesses an omnipresent undercurrent of realism, making it that much more believable. You'd have to be completely heartless not to connect with Steve, a truly unfortunate soul who is the victim not of his own incompetence, but sheer bad luck, allowing the reader to cringe in sympathy at his escapades, rather than slamming the book shut in exasperation. It's also very funny without ever having to resort to gratuitous wisecracks and witty one-liners, which are the sort of things that you either think of several hours post-argument, or attempt to say in the heat of the moment and result in you getting tongue-tied in apoplexy. This is what makes The Understudy so real - there's a distinct lack of self-conscious humour and you never get the impression that Nicholls' is begging for a laugh - it's just that they flow from his pen.
With some genuine laugh-out moments, mostly in the dialogue between Steve and Nora, Josh's wife and the inevitably unattainable love interest, The Understudy is a triumph for Nicholls, taking an age-old, cliched formula and breathing new life in to it, avoiding the nauseating sentimentality so often seen in this particular genre. However, few books are beyond criticism, and a couple of mine would be that Nicholls fails to exploit the potential for hilarity that presents itself in the form of Steve's ex-wife and her new partner and the fact that his daughter, Sophie, supposedly the centre of his world, plays a relatively minor role. I also felt a tad let down by the ending, although given the tone of the book, it was probably the most sensible way for it to end. Nevertheless, The Understudy remains one of the funniest books I have read in recent times, with Nicholls establishing himself, in my eyes, as a younger, and dare I say it, funnier, Nick Hornby.
Rating: 8/10
Author: David Nicholls
Date started: Friday 9th July 2010
Date finished: Friday 9th July 2010
So after making the bleary-eyed decision to bunk off work today to catch up on sleep and then suffering the inevitable insomnia that, in a cruel twist of fate, followed, I decided to take a trip over to the library. Having managed to make my selection in record time, no doubt in part due to the sweltering temperatures and my inability to see the shelves due to the misting-up of my glasses, I managed to crawl home in the blazing sun to make a start on my stack of five books, The Understudy being the first one I opened. Having watched the film version of Nicholls' bestselling Starter For Ten and finding myself empathising with Brian Jackson, the novel's protagonist, I rather wanted to actually read the book itself, but my local library being the depressingly under stocked institution that it is, I had to settle for The Understudy as an consolation prize. Luckily for me, this transpired to be a stroke of luck, as Nicholls' sophomore novel is truly a delight in its own right. Sticking with the same formula of likeable-but-essentially-rather-average protagonist falling for out-of-his-league woman, Nicholls' setting moves from anonymous university to the bright lights and glamour of London's Theatreland. Except for Stephen C. McQueen, the only lights he's seeing are the cracked, flickering bulbs around his dressing room mirror, located on the musty and forgotten about top floor of the West End theatre he is currently performing at, a physical metaphor for his career. Unlike his ironic namesake (a pun often played on by peripheral characters throughout the book, much to the frustration of our protagonist - casual cruelty can often be the worst kind), Steve isn't enjoying any level of success - at thirty-two, he's divorced with a seven year old daughter who knows significantly more French than he does, and a career about as lively as the corpses he seems to find himself portraying with unnerving regularity. Although he may have landed himself a shot at the leading role in a sell-out West End show, the fact of the matter is that he is the understudy to Josh Harper, the nation's heartthrob and recently voted 12th Sexiest man in the World, who is in possession of good looks, a beautiful and intelligent wife and, unfortunately for Stephen, a cast-iron constitution, relegating him each night to a miserable role which involves him squeezing into a black wool/Lycra mix unitard. Overall, things aren't looking good for our protagonist. I'm sorry to say that things don't really get any better for Steve, with every seeming instance of good fortune having a sting in the tail, much like they do in real life. What's so endearing about The Understudy is that it possesses an omnipresent undercurrent of realism, making it that much more believable. You'd have to be completely heartless not to connect with Steve, a truly unfortunate soul who is the victim not of his own incompetence, but sheer bad luck, allowing the reader to cringe in sympathy at his escapades, rather than slamming the book shut in exasperation. It's also very funny without ever having to resort to gratuitous wisecracks and witty one-liners, which are the sort of things that you either think of several hours post-argument, or attempt to say in the heat of the moment and result in you getting tongue-tied in apoplexy. This is what makes The Understudy so real - there's a distinct lack of self-conscious humour and you never get the impression that Nicholls' is begging for a laugh - it's just that they flow from his pen.
With some genuine laugh-out moments, mostly in the dialogue between Steve and Nora, Josh's wife and the inevitably unattainable love interest, The Understudy is a triumph for Nicholls, taking an age-old, cliched formula and breathing new life in to it, avoiding the nauseating sentimentality so often seen in this particular genre. However, few books are beyond criticism, and a couple of mine would be that Nicholls fails to exploit the potential for hilarity that presents itself in the form of Steve's ex-wife and her new partner and the fact that his daughter, Sophie, supposedly the centre of his world, plays a relatively minor role. I also felt a tad let down by the ending, although given the tone of the book, it was probably the most sensible way for it to end. Nevertheless, The Understudy remains one of the funniest books I have read in recent times, with Nicholls establishing himself, in my eyes, as a younger, and dare I say it, funnier, Nick Hornby.
Rating: 8/10
