Details are crucial in Panayotis Cacoyannis’ latest novel, a masterpiece of intricate plotting, exquisite description, and psychological nuance. It’s told from the point of view of Harry Wood, a mid-thirties artist, and takes place in modern London, a city that has provided some of the author’s most exhilarating and artistic sketches in his past novels, We are not disappointed here, and even here, we examine details. “But then the rare early sunshine of a bright winter day suddenly broke through the blinds, through the holes for the string and the inadequate overlap between the blades, and yellow fragments of it flickered in a dance across the bed, swathing Max’s body in the twinkle of a thousand tiny flames of supplication.”
Within this intimately depicted world, we follow Harry and his interactions with a handful of characters, unique, different, none of them easily categorized, none of them exactly who they appear to be. Each of them—his lovers or romantic interests, Max, Lina, and Jefferson; the homeless artists, Gregor and Slimboy—has a profound effect upon Harry, although he is not always sure why. He gives himself, or the relevant part of himself, to each of them. He is both generous and loving, seeing the best in everyone and reaching out to them to touch it. Each of these characters is themselves a story, often an enigma, and by seeing them though Harry’s eyes, we are offered only the side of themselves they present to him. Within the story, a murder trial, whose verdict will seal the fate of the accused’s future, encapsulates these same quandaries, these same presentations often calculated, of only partial selves, with Harry’s task as a juror to try to discern the truth, and left with only the feeling that he doesn’t know for sure and must give the other person the benefit of the doubt.
Harry is fascinating. The depth and detail of the description of Harry and his thoughts and feelings, makes it impossible for the reader to not feel close to him. In fact, you live the novel within his skin. We follow his experiences in almost a stream of consciousness manner, although it is at the ego-level of consciousness, always trying to understand, to make sense of, and to solve the issues that present themselves to him, while driven by underlying motivations he mostly doesn’t fathom. In many ways he is pushed and pulled by forces he feels completely but understands only dimly. He gives in to his inclinations, presented to him by his often chance encounters, acutely aware of what they make him feel and allowing them to propel him in different directions, without knowing to what end they will lead. Even his style of painting changes almost by chance, something he can reflect on, but not control. In that sense, it is a novel of self-discovery, a diary of the examination of the products of one’s consciousness, as in a psychoanalysis, in order to read between the lines to find out one’s true desires. What makes it so real for the reader, is that so much of the process seems familiar. The issues may not be the same, the choices completely different, but the psychological experience is the distinctly human condition we all endure.
Reading Cacoyannis is always a pleasure. There seems always to be the issue of finding out who one is at the core of the story, and he has an unerring talent for identifying universal dilemmas. The language is mesmerizing and provides pure pleasure in the reading. The allusions to his previous novels, sprinkled throughout, were a delight. The characters, even when they’re quirky, are so very real. I finish each of his novels, with my appetite only whetted for the next. I hope he provides us many more. The Fondling of Details is a beautiful novel, an unforgettable read.
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