BY ANNE CROWLEY
WHAT THE EXPERTS SAID:
“Anthony Fennell, a journalist, is in pursuit of a story buried at the bottom of the sea: the network of tiny fibre-optic tubes that carry the world’s information across the ocean floor – and what happens when they break.
“So he has travelled to Cape Town to board a cable repair vessel captained by Chief of Mission, Conway. Conway is a talented engineer and fearless freediver – and Fennell is quickly captivated by this mysterious, unnerving man and his beautiful partner, Zanele.
“As the boat embarks along the west coast of Africa, Fennell learns the rhythms of life at sea. But as the mission falters, tensions simmer – and Conway is thrown into crisis. Then Conway disappears, and Fennell must set out to find him.” Bloomsbury.
MY THOUGHTS:
Fennell says at the beginning he “needed a story about connecting, about grace, about repair”. Did he get one? … Before repair comes rupture.
The story has the air of a mystery from start to finish. “Others have tried to tell Conway’s story, and so far as I know, they got it largely wrong.” Fennell becomes obsessed with everything Conway, and particularly with solving the puzzles that surround the enigmatic man, to the end.
Along the journey, we experience captivating and vivid descriptions of the process of freediving, the depths of the ocean and its undiscovered creatures, and the enormous collection of human rubbish below the surface (including that transmitted through the cables).
We learn that Waiting for Godot (Samual Beckett) is actually today’s great climate play, according to Conway’s actress partner Zanele – “let us do something while we have the chance” (quoting Beckett).
We observe through Fennell’s narration a lengthy ocean voyage involving sea-sickness, storms, calm, the ever-changing nature of the sea, and the regimen of managing the ship.
We gain fascinating insights into the process of cable repair, beginning with finding a needle in a haystack, more than 4km below the surface – literally a stab in the dark! Repeat until successfully locating and retrieving the fibre-optic ends and fusing them – as long as it takes.
I enjoyed the book’s intertwining metaphors, for example, cables with relationships and human wiring, and the surface and depths of the ocean with human connection and understanding. Conrad’s relationship apparently unravels, while Fennell works on repairing his with his alienated son, starting with drying out during the sea voyage.
“The task at hand was to knit at least some distant parts of myself anew.
“The disease of our days is that we spend so much time on the surface. Part of our human warmth is the darkness we don’t show each other.”
And I enjoyed the succinct but evocative writing style and apt use of words. (I confess I referred to the dictionary more often while reading this book than I have in years.)
As to the answer to the opening question, Conway says, “Everything gets fixed, and we all stay broken.” Perhaps this explains the final plot twist, though my book club was equally divided as to its plausibility. I was left wondering: perhaps it is understandable as a break in the cabling in a person.
Either way, Twist is worth reading.
