Book Review: 'Clovenhoof' by Heide Goody and Iain Grant

In the early 21st Century, petty office politics, management bullshit, and bureaucracy. Despite the way many people might feel about these things, Satan does not thrive on them. He loses his position as Lord of Hell, and is retired to live in Sutton Coldfield, North Birmingham.

This is the Premise of Clovenhoof, the debut novel of Heide Goody and Iain Grant, co-founders of Birmingham's Pigeon Park Press. Although it takes the novel a few chapters to warm up to the thrust of the main plot, the characters are immediately likeable. Satan's new friends and neighbours, Nerys and Ben, lean very slightly towards stereotype but in comic writing this sort of exaggerated characterisation works well, especially when there is so much more going on with them beyond our first impressions. Satan himself is endearingly befuddled by his new life, and he leans more towards chaos and mischief than downright malevolence. Even before the plot reaches full swing, the characters start to develop in believable, interesting ways as they face the challenges of modern life in their own unique manners.

It is this character development which binds the novel together through its episodic opening chapters. The first part of the book reads like a sitcom, but it is a very good sitcom with characters that you genuinely care about and situations which lend themselves to the book's sense of humour, which is anarchic and irreverent, but still warm and even comforting.

The novel is punctuated by scenes from the celestial boardroom, where a committee of angels and saints discuss the administrative issues facing Heaven and Hell. The portrayals of Saints Peter, Paul, Francis of Assisi, and Joan of Arc are perfect for the tone of the book. God, however, is notably absent from these meetings, which are chaired by the Archangel Michael.

The characterisation of Michael embodies some of the contradictions facing Christianity in the modern age; on one hand, he is suavely dressed, smooth spoken and virtuous, but on the other, he is inflexible, old fashioned and priggish. His attitude to towards female preachers, for example, is less than supportive. These sorts of contrasts are explored in other parts of the book, and it is tempting to see them, combined with God's non-attendance of the board meetings, as an allegory of the way religion can be hijacked to suit various opinions and political agendas.  This is not to say the book is anti-Christian: Joan of Arc and a female vicar called Evelyn come out of the story very well. If this all sounds a bit heavy for a light comedy, it doesn't feel it in practice.

Neither does the novel draw exclusively from Christianity for its source material. The Qur'an and various apocryphal texts also play a part in filling out the Heavenly Host and the demonology of Hell. In all, Clovenhoof is a very well researched novel with likeable characters and a strong undercurrent of warm comedy (one of the more difficult genres to do well). I was lucky enough to download it for free, but even if that offer has expired, it would make a great addition to anybody's digital library.

U-turn Ahead (or, Why I'd Quite Like an E-reader)

In the past I’ve been quite dismissive of e-readers. Theoretically, I should have been exited from the start – an infinite library packed into a device the size of a slim volume of poetry. But where was the rustle of turning pages, the smell of yellowing paper, the battered cardboard covers? What about bookshelves? You can’t nose through somebody else’s Kindle without looking downright rude. You can’t line a wall with all your favourite ebooks. What about the familiar weight of your favourite novel as you take it down from the shelf for another go? And I can’t help but feel like reaching the end or warandpiece.doc or ulysess.txt won’t be as satisfying as finding that last half page of text in a heavy tome. Somehow, the paper adds to the poetry.

I still think all of this is true. But here I am, trying to decide whether I can afford to shell out for an e-reader from my next payslip (actually, I’m secretly hoping I might have won one, but that’s another story). Why? Because the rise of e-publishing represents what is probably the biggest change in the way books are produced since the printing press; as a wannabe writer, I can’t afford to let get left behind because of my own Luddite tendencies.

And it really has opened up a great number of exciting possibilities in the publishing world. The serialized novel has returned, awaiting the possibilities of our post-modern world. Almost anybody can make their work available to the entire world, free of charge (although they might later come to regret unleashing a poorly edited and proof read debut). A greater number of books are available to a greater number of people than ever before. And (most importantly), lower production costs mean that, in theory, writers could be paid more. I rub my hands together greedily in expectation of the great mounds of cash that will surely follow.

Obviously, e-publishing will work better for some things than for others. It’s perfect for magazines, as it keeps production costs down and helps prevent the mounds of paper which threatens to fill the living rooms of even the most casual reader, but for me at least, it will still never replace the physicality of a good perfect-bound novel. There are things about which I am sceptical. The wave of self-publishing is exciting, but it will make it more difficult to good work to get noticed, just as it could be more difficult for new novelists to find their feet without the support of a good editor. Perhaps the plethora of creative writing will start to fill that role. I am wary of the ‘multimedia novel’ which some are predicting; video clips and sound files just seem a little gimmicky for me. Still, these are exciting times to write in. I can no longer pretend that e-books are a passing phase – it’s time to jump in and see what happens.

Watch this space.