Books with quirky narrators are always a risk going into them. Some are great; The curious incident of the dog in the night-time offered a fresh perspective, The Book Thief was better for its narrator; while others like The seven moons of Maali Almeida left me a little cold. This one sits somewhere between the two ends.
Ostensibly the story of Marcellus the Octopus coming to the end of his life in captivity, he serves more as a framing device for Tova and Cameron’s lives coming together. A likeable stoic character, Tova is a woman deciding if it’s the end of her life she’s planning for or the end of a chapter. She’s a strongly independent woman who carries a tragedy in her but almost never lets it show. As a foil to her, Cameron’s messy existence works well, but his rash impulsivity feels a little childish at times.
On reflection, I feel the gimmicky narration from Marcellus helps to suspend disbelief of the more coincidental plot lines running through the story but being totally honest here suspension of disbelief is a very personal thing. I can be easily thrown out of the world created by an artist by the tiniest incongruities. I’ll never hear a word against the film A Knight’s Tale but it would take an army to make me sit through Avatar again. Seriously – Unobtanium? I bounced out of that one. This book managed to keep me on the hook because I bought into Marcellus as a hyper-intelligent different voice where if the plot had just been Tova and Cameron, I probably would’ve been muttering “C’mon? Really?” under my breath around 100 pages in.