At the age of forty, Dr. Weiss realized that literature had significantly impacted her life. This notion was echoed in Anita Brookner’s debut novel, A Start in Life, published when she was 53, which established a particular narrative tone. According to Hermione Lee, an emeritus professor of English at the University of Oxford, many people today envision Brookner as a solitary, cardigan-clad woman longing for a lost love. Lee contends that this perception is misleading.
The stereotype of Brookner as a lonely figure conflates her with the characters she created. Out of the 24 novels she authored over three decades, only her first four—A Start in Life, Providence, Look at Me, and Hotel du Lac—feature a single woman yearning for romance. While there exists a distinct “Brooknerian” style marked by elegance, subtlety, and a sense of melancholy, her work delves into a wide array of emotional experiences, including family dynamics, themes of exile, concepts of home, trauma, and the challenges of aging.
Born in 1928 and raised in south London under the stern watch of a Polish-Jewish grandmother and ineffectual parents—a tobacco seller and a failed singer—Brookner was an academically gifted only child. After earning her degree from King’s College London, she briefly enjoyed a sense of freedom while studying in Paris, only to be pulled back home to care for her demanding mother. Despite this domestic obligation spanning the next decade, she managed to establish herself as a distinguished art critic and an engaging lecturer at the Courtauld Institute, where she remained until her retirement.
In her introduction, Lee recounts how she often heard Brookner’s voice urging her to “Go away,” noting that the author’s twenties and thirties were the least documented and most obscure periods of her life. Brookner took great care to conceal her personal experiences, prompting Lee to extract any available information. Alongside Brookner’s academic achievements and extensive literary interests, details such as her poor handwriting, fear of trains, fondness for perfumes, and even her modest salary increases over two decades emerge. Although a few romantic relationships in her thirties didn’t materialize, any record of her feelings seems to have been erased by Brookner herself. As a result, the initial chapters of this biography can be somewhat challenging. Lee describes Brookner as “an object of mystery and puzzlement.”
However, as Lee continues her exploration—revealing that Brookner, who was always slender, kept slimming biscuits in her handbag, adored babies, and provided tranquilizers to anxious PhD students—an unexpected transformation occurs. The intricate details begin to align, allowing Brookner to emerge from obscurity as a fascinating and complex individual. She was a brilliant mind who once reduced her age by ten years in her entry in Who’s Who and claimed to be the “loneliest woman in London,” despite having many friends.
The narrative grows increasingly compelling as Brookner ages. In 1979, the revelation that her close mentor and friend, Anthony Blunt, was a Soviet spy left her reeling. Despite her initial loyalty, she felt betrayed upon learning he had exploited their relationship to gather information from a hospitalized colleague.
In a state of confusion and sorrow, facing yet another solitary summer, Brookner turned to fiction writing. Remarkably, she completed each novel in just three months. While wandering around London, she would mentally compose sentences before quickly transcribing them. Esteemed author Hilary Mantel remarked that Brookner seemed to emerge as a fully formed novelist, “as if she had hatched from a marbled egg.” This prolific writing pattern continued for over twenty years.
Brookner achieved notable recognition in 1984 when her fourth novel, Hotel du Lac, won the Booker Prize. Many anticipated that either J.G. Ballard’s Empire of the Sun or Julian Barnes’s Flaubert’s Parrot would take home the award. The backlash against Brookner was palpable; Ballard even hissed, “You stole my Booker” at the ceremony. The critical response was often dismissive, branding her works as “doily” novels and likening her writing style to that of Mills & Boon. This criticism deeply affected her, yet she persisted in her writing endeavors.
Contrary to her public image, Brookner was far from lonely in her personal life. She had loyal friends, including Virago publisher Carmen Callil and fellow authors like Rosamond Lehmann and Julian Barnes, who shared fond memories of her. Barnes, in particular, felt intimidated by her articulate speech during their lunches together.
Was Brookner a literary genius? She once insightfully described the process of writing a novel as “trying very hard to remember something which has not yet taken place.” Lee provides insightful literary analysis, uncovering the sophistication and depth of Brookner’s works, although she acknowledges that the prolific output of one novel per year sometimes diluted their impact and quality. Nevertheless, she highlights three of Brookner’s novels—Family and Friends, Latecomers, and The Next Big Thing—as truly exceptional. Thankfully, the tide has turned, and Brookner’s work is no longer subject to derision. This insightful and diligent biography uncovers the true essence of the author, who would likely be dismayed by the attention. Ultimately, it underscores the importance of recognizing the value of her literature.
Anita Brookner: Art and Life, authored by Hermione Lee, is available from Chatto & Windus for £28. To support the Guardian, you can order your copy at guardianbookshop.com, though delivery charges may apply.
