O Caledonia by Elspeth Barker

I was more than thirty years late to this book (story of my life!) and only started to read it after seeing a conversation about it on social media. My London flatmate of almost forty years ago declared it one of her favourite books; I am still in touch with her even if I am out of touch with so many wonderful books yet to be explored…

She is from Scotland and the clue is in the title, being the Latin name used by the Roman Empire to refer to that part of Great Britain lying north of the River Forth. Certainly the reader is drawn in by the beautifully-described landscape before witnessing the ever-present destructive qualities that nature hides coyly up its sleeves: winds, rain and the beguiling waves of the sea.

Janet is a destructive child – often self-destructive – but also creative in a largely, unnoticed way by her family who have clearly made up their minds about her rather than trying to at least understand better why she thinks the things she does and does the things she cannot help but do (even though she recognises that these acts are ‘wrong’ and will result in yet more punishment).

This is a coming-of-age story where a lonely child tries to navigate her way through both familial and contemporary groups, each of which desires to impose their own norms and expectations upon her. We applaud (and are relieved by) Janet’s absolute resolution to remain independent. Others label this eccentricity, which is their lazy shorthand for non-conformist – or perhaps fear that there may be more to life than they have yet discovered (and Janet is nothing if not an explorer).

We laugh out loud at Janet’s views of the world around her, whilst also admiring her bond with nature. Her befriending of a kindred soul – a jackdaw – was one of the loveliest passages in the book for me. Her sensitivity was never going to work in a cold, dark Scottish castle where Gothic horrors arrive in the form of nastiness, spite and drink as coping mechanisms.

We really want Janet to survive, though we also know that she won’t. The story builds carefully towards its climax and then we are left with nothing: a hole in our lives as readers probably greater than the one left behind for her family to reassure themselves that they always knew her life was destined to be short.

I did get a bit bogged down with some of the literary and classical references – often beautiful and apt though they were – as I felt it slowed the pace of the book much more than the many raw descriptions of nature that Janet noticed all around her -  while most of the other characters saw only themselves as players rather than the stage’s scenery against which they played out their much duller lives.

I did though love it that her safe place usually came in the form of books. How that comfort still resonates!
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All in all, an enjoyable read which transports the reader to the widespread glories of upper Britannia whilst acknowledging that difference can be so defining – and not always in a good way.

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