The very short version of this review reads as follows: If you haven’t read High Fidelity, read that. If you like High Fidelity, read Good Material (after watching the film adaptation of the Hornby novel, naturally). I’m not the first reviewer to describe Alderton’s second novel as Hornbyesque, and while there are those who shudder at the merest inference of the adjective derivative, those people are largely pretentious morons, and this reviewer loves Nick Hornby, so it’s an unambiguous compliment as far as I’m concerned.
This is a break-up novel written largely from the perspective of the 35-year-old man whose girlfriend has broken up with him (Andy Dawson for Rob Gordon; Jen for Laura). The man in question has carved a career pursuing a non-lucrative artistic passion (stand-up comic for record store owner); the woman makes lots of money in a corporate job (insurance for law). The man makes at least one list relating to his break up. He contacts an ex in desperation. There are plenty of references to pop culture and football. So far, so Hornby.
Let’s get some specificity going, though. There are some great Hornbyesque lines of thought and dialogue, many of the best delivered by the one exceptional secondary character of Alderton’s book: Emery, Andy’s perpetually drunk, preposterously beautiful, and dispiritingly successful comedian buddy. Take, for example, Emery’s philosophising on what he calls The Madness: ‘A few things can ease The Madness… first and foremost: stop wanking about her… Samuel Johnson said: “Having a penis is being imprisoned with a mad man. But you must let the mad man speak.”’ (He didn’t, just in case you’re wondering.) And a very good comic set-piece in which Andy takes the precipitous, and obviously idiotic, decision to move onto a houseboat.
So, why read High Fidelity first? Because Alderton’s prose doesn’t maintain its high points as consistently; because aside from Emery the other secondary characters are a little limply drawn, especially the men (I’ll make an exception for Andy’s elderly housemate who is obsessed by Julian Assange); and because Andy is a less convincing and compelling character than Rob.
However, three arguments exist for preferring Good Material. For one, there is a negative episode in which Andy gets flamed online and has to cope with the potential death of the career he loves. For another, the ending is not happy (ish). And, finally, the shift at the novel’s end to the ex’s perspective allows Alderton to represent Jen with much more development than Laura is afforded in High Fidelity. You may find these elements nods to the messy disorder of life, a necessary dose of reality to off-set the comic and saccharine. I didn’t, but we can agree to disagree.
