The Canal

It seems like something of a dangerous game for a novelist to write a book about boredom. After all, books exist to combat boredom, rather than exult in it. Lee Rourke's The Canal, however, has managed to seemingly do the impossible: make a narrative about being bored both engaging, interesting and thought provoking.

The unnamed narrator of The Canal sits on a dirty bench looking out over a dirty stretch of water. It is a kind of no-mans-land of London, and there he sits rather than go to work, watching people walking by and the aeroplanes criss-crossing the sky. But when an attractive woman joins him on his bench, his happily bored demeanour changes. As they strike up an unlikely friendship, secrets begin to surface - secrets that will change both of their lives.

Part love story, part existential treatise, The Canal is brilliantly composed and utterly convincing. Also it is a book that takes on the modern world in all its contradictions with subtle strokes. There are echoes of  Beckett and Ballard, but the lightness of touch, comedic timing and stunning dénouement make this a book to love, not just to appreciate.