The objects of our disbelief: Are they funny, are they dead? by Marjorie Ann Watts

I know that one should not judge a book by its cover, or its title, but when I first read about Marjorie Ann Watts’ collection of short stories Are they funny, are they dead? I was immediately reminded of the title of my favourite Barbara Comyns novel Who was changed and who was dead. I suppose that there are sillier reasons to pick up a book, so I shall not feel too guilty, and anyway, it did turn out to be worth it.

Are the funny, are they dead? Is a collection of short stories from the pen of a lady who originally trained as an artist and there is a strong visual element and a sense of landscape in many of these tales – which range in period and setting. They take in the wilds of the English coast and the grey paving of Harley Street among many other places. The stories in general deal with the anatomy of unsatisfactory relationships between people, the far reaching legacies of past family deceptions and lack of understanding that so often keeps one generation from being close to another. Watts frequently focuses on an object as a means of teasing out a long story and a set of characters. This is a most successful strategy – although I suspect that in a further volume of stories, it would come to feel formulaic. In this volume however, characters are well and quickly drawn and each story moves fast, taking in action and analysis with ease.

There is a clear-sighted surrealism and a willingness to ask questions at the heart of this collection. It contains shrewd observations about everyday life, and much humour as well. My favourite story is A Vivid Imagination in which Dr Ryle, a curmudgeonly and cynical old psychiatrist finds himself with a most unusual new patient. Milly Banks is a children’s novelist who claims to be tormented by the characters that she herself has created. Her tale is the kind that is always dismissed by others; and yet, before long, Dr Ryle will be careering down Harley Street amongst a plague of pigs and questioning his own sanity. This story is a wonderful piece of whimsy and an exploration of incredulity and imagination. Watts satirises the pompous and celebrates the freethinking – although part of her message seems to be that things would be better if people worked together.

In my view, the best stories of the collection are towards the end rather than the beginning of the book, so the reader who is short on time, might wish to start at the back. I am most grateful to Charles Boyle at CB Editions for sending me this book. If you are interested in CB Editions, their blog is here. This weekend has been a glorious one in France, and I have included some more garden photographs to commemorate it.