In Nick Hornby's previous works, the author has tackled such stunningly weighty topics as top ten lists, soccer frenzy, and the musings of self-absorbed and self-obsessed characters. In his newest novel, "A Long Way Down," Hornby departs from the norm, employing his usual realistic and frank writing style to address suicide. Refusing to get bogged down in the admitted darkness of the topic, the result is an ability to deal with his plotline in a way that is characteristically lighthearted, but nonetheless poignant and humane.
With "A Long Way Down," Hornby gives himself the difficult task of talking about suicide in his flippant and cheeky style without making his readers feel uncomfortable for being entertained and even amused. He pulls it off by not allowing his irreverence to be mistaken for actual disrespect, and in so doing manages to do justice to a serious topic.
The novel revolves around four flawed, and quite human, main characters: JJ, a failed rocker whose band's breakup has pushed him over the edge (no pun intended); Martin, a Regis Philbin-esque television personality caught in a sex scandal with an underage girl; Jess, a capricious and emotionally impulsive eighteen-year-old; and Maureen, a lonely Catholic mother with a disabled son. The foursome meet on the roof of a famous London suicide spot on New Year's Eve, all with plans to depart the roof without involving the staircase by evening's end.
The four begin their interaction by vying for a better jumping spot and evaluating the legitimacy of each other's desire to cast themselves over the edge.
Luckily, cooler heads prevail, and they make a pact to leave the rooftop and revisit their woes a month and a half later, on Valentine's Day. In typical Hornby fashion, this decision is not, of course, based on the emotional pain the four suicides would inflict on lovers, friends, ex-bandmates, or offspring. Rather, as Jess states, "The moment's gone. I can tell."
The most affecting and thoughtful lines in the book are found in this section, during which all of the characters evaluate the reasons for their sadness, their ability or willingness to recover, and their relationship to the rest of the group of would-be jumpers.
Throughout the remainder of the novel, Hornby has his characters reconvene in a variety of comedic social situations (be they book clubs exploring the literary output of suicidal writers, group excursions to the Canary Islands, or talk show appearances).
Admittedly, the initial spark created by the intensity of their first encounter remains the strongest part of the book. The author's ability to insert gems and introspective lines throughout the course of the story, however, keeps the reader engaged even in some of the less obviously absorbing scenes. Thankfully, Hornby keeps the plot believable and resists cliche refusing to romantically entwine his characters with one another.
Aside from its exploration of the psychological and social issues surrounding suicide, "A Long Way Down" also highlights the similarities shared by diverse individuals and the surprising ease with which friendships can be formed.
After the group decides to postpone their suicides, Martin explains their newfound camaraderie: "Even though we had nothing in common beyond that one thing, that one thing was enough to make us feel that there wasn't anything else -- not money, or class, or education, or age, or cultural interests -- that was worth a damn."
Even with lines such as these, Hornby is able to refrain from a sense of sentimentality or preaching that would ruin the tone of the book.
By putting his patented narcissistic and selfish character archetypes on a rooftop on New Year's Eve, Hornby manages to explore a typically taboo topic in a smart and conversational way. In the process, he also sneakily makes sure that Sarah McLachlan's "Ice Cream" lyric, "It's a long way down to the place where we started from," will perpetually be stuck in the reader's head every time he or she picks up the book.
