Paul Torday (1946–2013)

Michael and Elizabeth Gascoigne are the narrators of The Girl on the Landing and the question that puzzled me was, just how reliable are their accounts. It soon becomes obvious that it is Michael who is the problem. It begins when Michael and Elizabeth visit a friend’s country house and he spots a painting of a landing with a woman clad in a green dress in the background – except that there is no woman in the painting. Despite his outward calm and reliability he is mentally ill – show more hearing voices and seeing people who aren’t there – or are they? I began to wonder if they were real after all. Such was the effect this book had on me. When he stops taking the drug their marriage takes on a new character, taking Elizabeth quite by surprise, initially liking it, but soon scaring her.

The location is split between Michael’s luxury London flat and his large country estate in Scotland. In London he is the part-time membership secretary of Grouchers, an exclusive gentlemen’s club. Here he is faced with a difficult situation when Mr Patel, a Ugandan Asian applies for membership, raising questions about the nature of Britishness and Englishness, identity and personality – all quite disturbing for Michael and the other members.

In contrast to life in London, is the Gascoignes’ life in Scotland, in the dank and gloomy house Michael inherited from his parents – Beinn Caorunn. Elizabeth hates the place and rarely goes there, but Michael loves it; it is the place where he feels “connected to the world again”. But Michael has secrets and as the novel progresses the nature of these secrets are gradually revealed, building a sense of mystery and foreboding. Just who is the woman in the green dress, the Lamia and what did happen to Michael’s parents?

The tension builds and I just had to finish the book, but I thought the ending was an anti-climax as Elizabeth takes over the narrative and we are left dangling. Just what did happen … ? But I couldn’t really imagine how else it could end and it was a very enjoyable book. show less

'The Legacy Of Hartlepool Hall' gave me more to think about than I'd expected. It rose above simple satire, declined to take sides in the class war and delivered instead a very human picture of what a legacy from previous generations can do to those born into wealth that is steadily declining. It is hard for me to summon empathy for the struggles of a middle-aged man born into wealth, who has never done anything with his life, not even gained an understanding of the sources and limits of show more his wealth.

Ed Hartlepool is too bland a man to be dislikable and too lazy a man to garner much sympathy but Paul Torday succeeds in making him a man who is free of malice and greed and who may, eventually, build a life for himself over which he exerts some agency.

I enjoyed the quiet humour of the book exposes absurdities without poking fun at everyone I admired the way it calmly lays out the lives of the rich and those who feed on them, like a butterfly pinned to a board.

The book has some darker moments. One of the main characters goes through a trauma that I initially thought stole her sanity from her. Later, it seemed to me that the trauma revealed who she really was and what she wanted.

I had wondered if this was going to be a sort of comic thriller, with Ed discovering his business acumen and coming up with a plan to make everything better. Paul Torday had something else in mind.

Although it uses gentle humour throughout the book, 'The Legacy Of Hartlepool Hall' sets out to deliver a reflection on inherited wealth and the unsustainable expectations and duties that the current generation faces.

Ed's struggle to deal with the accumulated debts of the Hartlepool estate shows how, in the course of the last three generations, his family has actively declined to acquire the skills and work ethic that generated the fortune in the first place. The Hall that was built as a vanity project providing concrete evidence of what the family had achieved has become an atavistic burden that binds the family so tightly to the past that they are unable to build a future. 

The book also looks at how the expectation of inherited wealth tests the character of the people receiving it. Ed finally comes to the realisation that he might enjoy the freedom that comes from letting go of Inost) of his wealth and living a (financially secure, work-free) middle-class life. One of his friends, who is also waiting to inherit wealth is effectively enslaved by the wait and eventually cracks under the stain.

This is a gentle, well-observed book populated with characters that I recognised and believed in, that, in a low key often humorous way, questions the benefits of transmitting substantial weakth across generations. show less

There’s certainly something fishy about mentioning politicians and salmon in the same sentence. Politicians will kiss babies, yes - but why would the British Prime Minister be so hell-bent on getting involved in the introduction of salmon fishing to the remote Arabian countryside?
This is the story of a wealthy and charismatic Yemeni sheik whose long held dream is to introduce salmon fishing into the arid highlands of his homeland, so his fellow countrymen can share in his love of this show more 'divine sport'.
Dr Alfred Jones, a fisheries scientist - for whom diary notable events include the acquisition of a new electric toothbrush and getting his article on caddis fly larvae published in 'Trout and Salmon' - finds himself reluctantly involved as a scientific advisor in this seemingly hopeless project. Dr Jones is a man every bit as dull and nondescript as his name – sitting next to him at a dinner party would be the evening from hell. Fred is reluctantly forced out of his comfort zone in England to become a key player in this unlikely project that will change his life, and the course of British political history forever.
There is, of course, a problem. As Fred so succinctly puts it, "fish need water", and why would anybody worth their scientific salt chose such an arid landscape as a habitat for these salmon?
The answer is multi-layered: with the right publicity and media coverage, salmon could increase Westernisation and abate criticism of Britain's involvement in Iraq, while also being used by the sheikh as a way of proving to his people that religious miracles are possible.
With a wickedly wonderful cast of characters - including a visionary Sheikh, a weasely spin doctor, Fred's devilish wife and a few thousand transplanted salmon - Salmon Fishing in the Yemen is a novel about hypocrisy and bureaucracy, dreams and deniability, and the transforming power of faith and love.
Presented like an archive, the story of the rise and fall of the project and the people involved comes together through interviews, newspaper clippings, emails, even intercepted al-Qaeda e-mail traffic and - most notably - Fred's journal.

One of the most delightful and original satires I've read in ages, Torday pokes fun at every aspect of British society, from government spin-meisters and crass politicians to marriages of convenience, TV interview programs, consumerism, and the belief that many of the world's problems would be solved if only other people were "more like us." This is particularly refreshing, however, since the author writes it with a smile on his face, preferring to prick balloons with his witty needling, rather than wield a rapier in a slashing attack.
Paul Torday's amazing debut novel is an extraordinary tale that surprises in its warmth and simplicity. It is one of the best reads I’ve had this year. show less

This is a strange and wonderful book with heart and deep wicked humor. Told with a series of memos, diary extracts, parliament records and other "documents" a story of vision and political turbidity, which bizarrely includes an interview, fictitious, by Boris Johnson in which he comes off as educated and alert. I don't think any other real person enters the story.