At first sight, it appeared to me that his looks had much in common with Anton Pavlovich Chekhov, one of my favourite Russian short-story writers. But, of course, they are not related. Or, maybe, I should come up with another perspective. In this case, I dare to rephrase Archimedes of Syracuse: "Give me a perspective, and I shall prove Chekhov and Bader are related." "The Prison of Perspective" is a novel which calls for a deep reflection. I feel the same way when I read Anton Chekhov...
According to Rudolphbader.com, the author was born in Zurich, Switzerland. He has lived and worked in many countries, mainly as an academic in English Studies and as a literary critic. He holds several academic degrees, and he has published seven books and dozens of scholarly articles under his German name. Today, he lives in East Sussex (England) and in Switzerland. The Prison of Perspective is his first novel. His second novel, White Lies, is forthcoming.
I made up my mind to buy Mr Bader's book right after he mentioned the Russian Sputnik during the brief reading session.
This is one of the many other vivid examples of the potential fallacies of perspective. Peter is being indoctrinated by the school teacher, who makes her best effort to explain what "West" is and what it is not by rearranging the prejudices of her time. I imagined Soviet kids indoctrinated by Soviet teachers... What was "West" for them? I do not remember.
According to the author's own synopsis, the novel unfolds around the three major narrative perspectives.
The first narrative perspective
In 2007, Ivan MacGregor, a London-based businessman in his late forties, drives out of London thinking of episodes in his past. He has a car accident which involves a young woman, Emma Richardson. Although the accident is not his fault and although he has no responsibility towards her, he feels strangely connected with her. He tries to find out as much as possible about her life, and he becomes her benefactor. Formerly a fast-living playboy-type, the accident causes him to change his life and become more responsible.
The second narrative perspective
In the 1950s, Peter Hoffmann, a shy but alert young boy grows up in a mediocre small-town society. Through the years he makes his first experiences in sexuality, in human relationships and in the limitations of life. He likes to take mental photographs of memorable moments in his life. He grows up, suffers various disappointments and re-assesses his relationship with his brother Fred, who dies in an air crash in 1978.
The third narrative perspective
In the 1960s, Cathy, an eager girl searching for truths, grows up in a narrow-minded village community. Her old-fashioned aunt, her best friend Becky and her brother Stephen pull her young mind in different directions. She suffers several instances of male aggression, and when she grows up she has various affairs, most importantly with an older man from Germany. She gradually turns into a bitchy person. Her world is shocked when her brother dies in that air crash in 1978. Then she spends two years in Australia on a scholarship, during which time she gets pregnant after a one-night stand and gives birth to Emma. After her return she meets Don Richardson and falls in love. They marry, and he adopts little Emma. Their marriage looks happy from the outside, but in reality she lives at Don’s emotional expense. Only her friend Becky understands the real situation. (...)
Every character mentioned turns out to be a prisoner of the assumptions and dogmas of his or her lifetime, which they question either instrumentally or intuitively. But Cathy's case is extraordinary. She is a high IQ/low EQ type of a woman. Her rebelism is admirable. Yet her snobbism is emotionally devastating to the people who love her. Cathy is shot during a bank robbery in Finchley Road, and she dies on the floor of the bank hall. Her death draws some characters together, and some apart.
After Cathy's death, most of the attention of the reader is shifted to the tender relationship between Don and his stepdaughter, and their mutual friend Peter. The relationships between Ivan and Emma, actually, the biological father and daughter, are very complex. Unaware of the nature of their blood relationships, they establish a positive friendship. Yet there is a kind of sexual tension in the story, which is, finally, resolved by Ivan himself:
"If Emma and Peter are good freinds he must accept it. She is a grown up woman who knows what she is doing. (...) Ivan admits to himself that the vision of Peter as her lover has probably emerged from his own secret wishes, because he has not been intimate with a woman for such a long time. But even without the possible existence of Samantha he knows that he never ever looked at Emma as a potential lover. He still cannot explain his interest in her, but he knows it is there."
The end of the novel is open. Emma, Peter and Ivan meet at the graveyard. Ivan bends downs and places the bouquet on Cathy's grave.
"I wonder what secrets she took to her grave with her," Emma whispers. "There is so much that the older generation knows but never tells. What will my life teach me, I wonder?"
The path cranches, a dog barks in the distance."
Emma is in the process of being patterned to fit the needs of a different generation, but, unlike her mother, she is open to other views of things (like those of her Muslim colleague Aysha from the fashion magazine or her mature friend Uncle Peter, the child of the ascetic 50ies). Will Emma's understanding of reality be ever complete? This question leaves the reader shifting between two different "realities": that of Emma and the reader respectively.