Earlier this year I stayed in a high-rise hotel in a district of Manhattan, quite far off the tourist track. My window looked out onto a vast residential block. At dusk, a thousand lights came on. I wondered about them all in their little boxes stacked in lines.
This is the premise for Fishbowl, set in a 27 storey apartment block called the Seville on Roxy. It’s not specified where it is but it’s an archetypal block. The fishbowl of the title is also a literal fishbowl – Ian, a goldfish belonging to one of the residents, has taken a leap for freedom, plunging from his bowl, and as he falls towards the concrete sidewalk, he catches moments, freezeframed, in the lives of the various inhabitants. The reader needs to take a similar leap of faith and go with the fact that a goldfish is the novel’s main protagonist.
There is a grad student, and the owner of Ian, who is going to have to decide between his girlfriend and mistress, an agoraphobic phone sex worker, a pregnant woman on enforced bed rest who just wants the baby out so she can have an ice cream sandwich from her freezer and her construction worker boyfriend Danny, Jimenez the building’s stoical caretaker, Herman the homeschooled boy and Garth who is awaiting an important parcel. Each one of them is at a momentous point in their lives. Gradually we see all the little unexpected connections and interplays between them.
Whilst the narrative construction was very easy to follow, with very short chapters only advancing each characters story in tiny increments, as a device it is risky – if the reader is less invested in one particular story, you find yourself eager to get back to the one you are more interested in. And all the time Ian is falling (I liked the little picture of him on the margin of the text descending down the page like one of those flip books I had as a child).
Bradley’s Somer’s writing style is arch and mannered but it is suited to the tale ; he plays around with the authorial voice, telling you what’s going to happen and that Ian will hit the ground in Chapter 54. There are ruminations on time and space, philosophy and physics, risk and adventure. Overall, I was not really emotionally invested in any of the characters, but I’m not sure that matters. The whole literary device of the goldfish is distancing in itself but enables Somer to make some humorous but pertinent observations about life and death and everything in between.
Fishbowl is out now from Ebury Press. Thanks to them for my review copy. Follow Ian the goldfish on Twitter @goldfish_Ian