Among Friends by Hal Ebbott: echoes of the dead giants of American literature
Author
:
Hal Ebbott
ISBN-13
:
9781035055432
Publisher
:
Picador
Guideline Price
:
£16.99
Towards the end of the 20th century,
American
literature
was dominated by straight white men who published Important Books. The holy trinity of
Updike
,
Roth
and
Mailer
wrote about masculinity as an ideal, and while the work will endure, their era is decidedly over. So it was something of a surprise to read Hal Ebbott's debut, which feels heavily influenced by the ghosts of writers past.
Amos and Emerson – even their names are weighted in white privilege and old money – have been best buds since college, not least because the latter introduced his childhood friend Claire to the former, and they married. Along with Emerson's wife Retsy, the two couples have been close for decades, bringing up their daughters, Sophie and Anna, almost as sisters.
Therefore, it's devastating for all when a weekend at Emerson's home leads to an allegation that he sexually assaulted Amos's daughter, the knots of friendship immediately shattering.
What follows is a study of male friendship but also of the responsibilities we hold towards our children. When Anna tells her parents what took place, they're horrified but, curiously, it's Amos who believes her while Claire thinks she's making it up in a teenage bid for attention.
READ MORE
Ebbott digs deep into the psyches of both men but a strong premise suffers from the novel's lack of narrative development. It might be deliberate, but both couples are so alike that it becomes difficult to tell them apart. In fact, I had to make a note of who was who, and who was the offspring of whom, which is odd considering there's only six characters involved, and I found myself referring to this reminder repeatedly.
Is this because Ebbott is implying that all men are potential predators and that what Emerson did to Anna, Amos could have done to Sophie? If that's the idea, it's not sufficiently explored, and if it's not, then greater distinctions between the four might have been drawn.
Ebbott can certainly write – there's a depth to his paragraphs that demands the reader's careful attention – but it all feels a little old-fashioned, recalling those dead giants while giving a sense that Among Friends would have been a footnote in their bibliographies.
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