‘Hangover Square’ by Patrick Hamilton

Wow, this was one a hell of a ride. I have never before read a novel by Patrick Hamilton (1904 – 1962), or indeed seen one of his plays, but I am delighted to have read this. It is anything but a pleasurable read, but I nonetheless found it to be completely compelling, highly original and (probably) unforgettable.

The book is set in London and Brighton in the summer and early autumn of 1939 in the immediate run up to the declaration of war. The story is, I guess, intended to be an allegory in so far as the central protagonist continually puts off committing a planned murder in the same way that the UK government continually put off confronting Hitler. But for me this was very much a secondary element.

Instead what really absorbed me was the evocation of a time, a place and a lifestyle. The main characters are young people who inhabit boarding houses and small seedy apartments in Earls Court. They do not seem to work at all, drink a huge amount of booze and just knock about aimlessly. Their lives are listless and purposeless, but they are all superbly and very credibly drawn. The dialogue is outstandingly good.

A large, lumbering and rather stupid man called George Bone sits at the novel’s centre. He is an alcoholic and suffers from some kind of unnamed mental condition – may be a form of schizophrenia, or depression accompanied by severe dissociative episodes - but he is not apparently receiving any medical treatment. He is pretty rational for much of the time, but periodically his mood suddenly switches and his intentions darken.

He is utterly obsessed with a girl called Netta who he loves passionately but in a very immature way. He is mad with jealousy towards any other man who she associates with and just can not accept that she is playing him all the time, leading him on in order to secure financial assistance but in no way remotely interested in having a relationship with him. He keeps trying to pursue her, but is always let down in the end. It is a hugely sad, but very compelling narrative.

What is so clever is that this foolish man is portrayed sympathetically. He loves his cat and takes a childish delight in doing well in a solo round of golf. He is quite a gentle soul who is deeply lonely and craves friendship. He has extraordinarily low levels of self esteem and it is impossible not to feel for him while also despising his inability to appreciate that he is on a hiding to nothing with Netta.

The book is hard to put down once you start reading it. A wonderful tone of menace hangs about in the background. It is bleak and in some ways anticipates post-war existential fiction, but it also just extraordinarily well-written. A genuine modern classic.