Like PJ Harvey, whose new album I Inside The Old Year Dying sprang out of a book of poetry, Orlam, Kae Tempest has also drawn inspiration from earlier work in one artistic form to create something new in another. In Tempest's case, though, the process was the other way around; their debut and to date only novel, The Bricks That Built The Houses, was constructed on foundations established two years previously by 2014's Mercury-nominated LP Everybody Down. Perhaps familiarity with the album would have enhanced my enjoyment of the book? In truth, I found it an underwhelming read.
The novel is notable chiefly for its evocation of a modern, multicultural London, populated by intelligent, bored, anxiety-riddled twentysomethings who find themselves ground down by the daily struggle for survival, desperate for a glimpse of a brighter future. And Tempest - a celebrated poet and playwright as well as a musician - writes wonderfully well about the electrifying frisson and thrill of attraction that draws lost souls Becky and Harry together.
But elsewhere the prose feels indulgent and overwritten, and the plot, which takes a long time to gather pace, hinges on coincidental encounters and connections that seem especially improbable given that the setting is a city that's home to several million people.
Most irritating, though, are the regular sections recounting the backstories of the various characters, some of whom are relatively minor. It's hard to discern the purpose of these sections, or justify their existence, especially as they impede the narrative momentum. It's almost as though Tempest is so eager to show us that they can conjure a fully fleshed-out cast that they forget about everything else - and the reader's attention is prone to wander as a result.
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