Review: One Good Turn by Kate Atkinson

I have only read one of Kate Atkinson's books before, but I really enjoyed it and often thought that I must read more.

Well, I say I enjoyed it - I enjoyed the language, the insights, the wit. Behind the Scenes at the Museum is one of those books that doesn't really have a plot as such. It's just a story about life and some aspects of it were a bit depressing, in that they pinpointed some elements of human relationships with unromantic accuracy. But it was a good and memorable read, so when I spotted One Good Turn in the bookshop, I remembered Atkinson's previous work and snapped it up with great expectations.

And I enjoyed this one too, but in a very different way. One Good Turn definitely has a plot and quite a complex one at that, all about how one bizarre incident of road rage brings a number of diverse lives together in unlikely fashion. Before you start thinking it's just a rehash of Crash, it's not the same idea - this story links the witnesses to the attack, with the two feuding figures that open the action turning out to be the least interesting characters in the book.

There are elements of the murder mystery to it, though it is the investigations and adventures of the witnesses which take centre stage over the police procedures. In this way, One Good Turn seems more lightweight and unsubstantial that I had expected. The story takes its time introducing all the characters, by which time you begin to fear that threads picked up by the reader in the first few pages are already being dropped, but Atkinson soon picks up the pace and the story held my interest until the final page.

But I wouldn't say that I was gripped by it. Despite murder being at its heart, the story is more about the machinations of human emotions and the way life sometimes deals you a duff hand. For although the general tone is quite lighthearted, no one in the book is happy. Those who have become wealthy are living with loveless marriages, or no marriages at all; those who are fulfilled in their work have no home life; those who seem to have it all really have things which turn out to be charades. In this way, Atkinson continues to pick apart the human condition and although the story ends on an upbeat note for at least two of the characters, it left me feeling that the sweetness was tinged with a sour note.

I suppose that's just the reality of life and maybe I am too naive, wanting my literature to make that reality different. But isn't that the point of fiction, sometimes?