Jackdaw by Tade Thompson

Publisher – Cheerio

Published – Out Now

Price - £15 hardback £7.72 Kindle eBook

In this shocking, and at times darkly comic, novel, a psychiatrist hired to write a short piece on Francis Bacon becomes obsessed with the artist, his life, and the characters who surrounded him.

As he becomes consumed with the need to understand Bacon, and to create his own art, his grip on reality becomes increasingly tenuous, and he is haunted by disturbing figures.

This short, bold piece of fiction, explores how the passion needed to create art can also destroy the artist.

What makes an artist make art? Are authors the same as artists? How much of any author is actually in their art? For my book reviews I’ve always tried to focus on the book and not try to second guess the who the author is. I like the author is dead perspective (metaphorically most of the time) but as a body of work gets created an author’s voice cannot be ignored. A really good example is Terry Pratchett – you can hear that style and of course the footnotes but even the public and the private personas have often been hidden. Yes, we get to know where they stand on sone issues but at some point, we ask why they did that though? In the mysterious and unnerving novella Jackdaw Tade Thompson explores the line between art and artist and what may drive some to destruction and in the process Thompson makes the reader (and reviewer) a witness and confident but occasionally we may find we now know possibly too much for comfort.

Jackdaw by Tade Thompson is the tale of best selling and respected award-winning author Tade Thompson who is asked by the estate of Francis Bacon to write a book inspired by the work of Francis Bacon. But very soon after writing this Tade is disturbed by a vision of one of Bacon’s models that drives him to sexual frustration he needs to release anywhere and often. He takes up gambling; he wants to push his boundaries on every level, and this starts to affect his work in medicine; his writing and his family life. Tade is embodying all of Bacon’s many vices, but will this lead to a new level of art, a deep personal understanding of himself; or his own destruction?

Jackdaw is a startlingly fascinating story I won’t forget any time soon. Thompson had created a uniquely intimate confessional between the reader and the voice of his main character who just so happens to share his name, occupation and possibly a lot of his own life and history. We are deep in metafiction territory. Is this a disturbing autobiographical tale or a writer telling a imaginative story? The truly disturbing aspect is we don’t really know. Thompson shares possibly private anecdotes and observations from early life to their success in publishing and there always feels like some element of truth is being told but we are also aware we are reading a book. Having read Thompson’s stories, you can recognise the voice; the perspectives and yet at the same time I’m always more used to a fictional book of characters who are not obviously the author and with SF&F I also tend to know where the boundary of reality is but here I don’t. The tale gets weirder and yet more compelling; and I am trying to keep my head above water to stop being sucked into it. Is every piece of art a personal statement or a well judged design to create a deliberate impact (or both).

We could be said to be following the well-worn literary fiction path of a middle-aged man having a mid-life crisis. Indeed, Tade admits this is his fear. Tade notes he is aging, losing muscle tone, strength and also very worried that mental walls he has held up for years to protect himself from himself may be finally falling apart. In many literary fiction tales this man is the hero – the rebel fighting the system and should be admired. I’m pleased that Thompson rarely congratulates himself and instead when Tade tends to have a big speech against The Man he is very quickly cut off at the knees thanks to his own stupid actions and lack of sense. Tade’s actions are not celebrated and in fact we feel the pain, embarrassment and anguish he is starting to push on to other people especially his own family. We feel for Tade but we are not cheering him on – often the reverse and we worry as he starts to offer money to be beaten up or experience a dominatrix that he is now really off the rails and not salvageable. We’re passengers to Tade’s daily nightmarish encounters with ghosts only he sees and it’s not a cause for celebration. Thompson has written excellent horror tales before and indeed this could be viewed as literary fiction being poured into the horror grinder – body torture, ; phantoms, talking to the deadpain and emotional anguish getting ramped up and often made worse in the way Tade acts as a dispassionate clinical observer describing things at a distance as they happen to him perhaps as Tade perhaps would describe their own patients. All of which makes things feel even worse as we can’t help or intervene.

Of course, then the question is why is Tade doing this to himself? Everything from violence, sex and drugs are things that Francis Bacon used to excess and all the time alongside this he created fascinating and disquieting art. Is that because of his lifestyle or in spite of it? Would everyone if they did the same things all be just as equally amazing, successful and productive? Thompson explores our idea of the tortured genius and gives us instead a very realistic idea of what those days would actually feel like for most of us – they are not wonderful and often hurt people. At the same time Tade tells us confessional scenes of his own life from childhood abuse, a terrifying life in Nigeria to his fears as a writer and a father/partner. Are these his real drivers that led him to be an author? Or are they a skilled author’s attempts to play with what we expect an author’s life must have been in order for them to create art or perhaps a bit of both? Thompson pulls us into his narrator and then occasionally undercuts what we believe because we were told by him with dizzying speed and a further sense of dislocation. Am I actually being confessed to or just conned? I don’t know and as the story few I knew even less what was real and this then raises questions for me as a reader and blogger – do I ever really know the difference? When is fiction and non-fiction that distinguishable when reading? I really just trust the words on the page and follow them but how much should I actually ever believe or trust the author on?

Jackdaw is not a light read. The subject matter is dark, disturbing and as Thompson says even in the afterword that he has flayed himself the most of all his characters (although how much really is one the reader will worry about). The character of Tade goes to all the extremes and often then takes a few more steps past the next boundary because he needs to. He is an engaging narrator; funny, thoughtful, and yet also often disturbing, dangerous, and unpredictable. We get beautifully written chapters of free association, personal memories and anecdotes that may be true; speculation on ideas that we wish never get acted upon and we’re made to be at Tade’s side the whole time. We can’t stop events we just have to observe them. This in turn changes how I got to view the story. Are there ghosts, delusions, unleashed psyches or something else at work? Has Tade learnt his lesson or has the reader learnt their own and now may have a different perspective on what genius is and is not? Did I enjoy watching someone torture themselves for my ultimate entertainment? Yes I admit I think I did. Jackdaw is an experience to read and while I cannot say you’ll always enjoy the journey throughout it raises tough questions for us readers to think about our own approach to being the audience and I doubt I can forget this any time soon. Well recommended even if you don’t know much about Francis Bacon but only if you fancy pushing the boundaries of your own reading experience.