By George, she’s got it! Annoying yet affable, Kate Greathead’s George is a captivatingly mediocre antihero.
There’s nothing very remarkable about George or his family. They have their issues. George’s mother, Ellen, has become increasingly disconnected from him over the years, though she remains intimidating to him. Ellen is separating from George’s father, Denis, because Denis’s enthusiasm for luxury fashion has been draining the family funds. Then there’s George’s older sister, Cressida, who is unabashedly straightforward and critical of George, and, like his mother, regards him with a hint of contempt. Despite this friction, the unassuming George manages his family dynamics with seeming nonchalance. In fact, he rarely makes a fuss about the events in his life, and only occasionally shows passion for a goal or project, such as a college major in philosophy, before quickly returning to his habitual listlessness. This passivity even applies to his on-again, off-again relationship with his girlfriend Jenny, who, like the members of his family, oscillates between having patience with him and finding him tedious.
The Book of George unravels George’s life in episodes that highlight his misadventures from ages 12 to 38. The epigraph, excerpted from a letter from the mother of philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer to her son, sets the narrative tone: Johanna Schopenhauer tells Arthur that while he has “everything that could make you a credit to human society . . . you are nevertheless irritating and unbearable.”
Greathead’s delicious deadpan delivery, with its understatement and ironic humor, is irresistible. The Book of George can take its place next to other novels with lovably frustrating main characters like Gail Honeyman’s Eleanor Oliphant Is Completely Fine and Fredrik Backman’s A Man Called Ove.
