Old Filth (original 2004; edition 2006)

Eddie Feathers was an accomplished and admired judge and, before that, solicitor, working in Hong Kong before retiring to Dorset. The engaging title of the novel was his nickname within the legal world. In his private life, however, he was a monumental underachiever, living within a shell of icy dignity, married to a decent but (towards him) passionless wife. They have no children.

The Justice had been dealt a colossal injustice in his developmental days. The old filth of his past emerges as he reminisces in late life, and revisits old locales in both mind and person. Times sequences are chopped about in the novel, as they are inside Old Filth's head.

His personal story is caught up in the emotional sterility of the Empire. He had been born in Malaya, his mother dying in childbirth, after which his father, emotionally smashed by WWI (like one of the fathers in Flight of the Maidens) ignores Eddie's existence. The boy is allowed to wander as he will, flourishing amongst the local Malay children, mothered by a warm local woman - until the age of four, when Auntie Madeleine (a female type found so often in Gardam's books) engineers the Right Thing and has him returned to England. He emerges somehow with a charisma that endears him to women throughout his life, but nothing within him resonates when they offer love. ( )

Excellent. The time and place-warping is fascinating. The writing is brilliant, the place, time, mind changes exquisitely handled (techniques that become clicheed conceits in lesser novels). Next read Man With Wooden Hat. Each time I finish one of these books, I want to immediately start with the other, ad infinitum.... ( )

A bittersweet novel about the life of a Raj orphan and his inability to forge genuine connections with other people. While very sad in parts, it was also unexpectedly funny, and I found it difficult to put down. As Filth looks back on his long life and tries to make sense of it, we are provided a picture of one man's loneliness, failings, and desire for redemption. A wonderful, wonderful novel. ( )

This restrained and yet intimately reflective novel provides an examination on life changing events and how we can be shaped by our experiences. The story is focused on Sir Edward Feathers, the Old Filth of the title. Gardam beautifully captures the voice of an old Raj orphan – an octogenarian if my memory serves correctly! – who finds himself at a crossroads of sorts in the twilight years of his life. He reflects on his past, memories conjured up in part by the arrival of Veneering, the Far East legal rival of his past, to the quiet Dorset community Feathers now resides in in seclusion. Gardam provides the reader with glimpsing views of our characters as though seen through paned windows, not accessed through open doors that would allow us to fully enter and embrace the characters. The access to the characters is beautifully managed as some things, as in real life, are only fleetingly alluded to, while other things are left unmentioned.

Richly told, the reader experiences our main character’s growing realization of his advancing frailty, his sometimes transient state of emotional and mental confusion and a building desire to get his moral house in order. A need to wipe the slate clean, so to speak. I really like how Gardam is able to show how Feathers’ acquaintances, family relations and former colleagues view him in comparison to the more complex and very human individual that resides behind the exterior facade he projects. Even though Feathers is a flawed character, Gardam is able to portray him in a way that made me grow to love him and his foibles. Feathers is not a character that is easily pigeonholed or categorized, even if his dated clothing and mannerisms lead one to some expected first impressions. Gardam does an amazing job capturing the past, depicting an Empire that no longer exists in our modern world, except in the lingering minds of those who were around to experience it. Filled with a number of well written passages, this is the one, describing the Raj orphans, really stood out for me:

"They were brought up like that. Most of them learned to never like anyone, ever, their whole lives. But they didn't moan because they had this safety net. The Empire. Wherever you went you wore the Crown, and wherever you went you could find your own kind. A club. There are still thousands around the world thinking they own it. It's vaguely mixed up with Christian duty. Even now. Even here at Home. Every house of our sort you go into, Liverpool to the Isle of Wright - there's big game on the wall and tiger skins n the floor and tables made of Benares brass trays and a photograph of the Great Durbar. Nowadays you can even fake it with plenty of servants. It wasn't like that in my grandfather's generation. They were better people. Better educated, Bible-readers, not showy. Got on with the job. There was a job for everyone and they did it and often died in it."

Overall, a memorable reading experience for me and I look forward to reading the next book in the series, The Man in the Wooden Hat. ( )

I wanted to love this and didn't, quite, though I really enjoyed it and will definitely read Gardam's follow-up to it, The Man in the Wooden Hat. ( )