“Shrines of Gaiety” by Kate Atkinson

review by Meredith McKinnie

“Some people were complete in themselves, as if born from the earth or the ocean, like some of the gods. Which was not a compliment. The gods were ruthlessly indifferent to humanity.”

Critically-acclaimed author Kate Atkinson had evaded me to this point. I had never heard the name nor recognized any of her previous titles. But as historical fiction has surfaced as my passion of late, I was intrigued by the novel’s promise of indulging the underbelly of 1920s London. Soho’s ruthless nightclub Queen Nellie Coker is just released from prison. Swept into her iconic Bentley and escorted to one of her five nightclub establishments, Nellie’s presence shakes the foundation of her six adult children who’ve evaded their mother’s watchful eye. The dysfunctional family persists due to a steady flow of cash funneling through the clubs that offer London’s elite and well-connected a place to cut loose. Nellie knows her nightclub empire is on the brink of collapse, either from the local officials who smell blood or the business partners who want nothing more than to dethrone the Queen. When new detective Frobisher sets his sights on the Coker family empire as the source of a string of murders of young women, Nellie and the detective play a lurid game of cat and mouse.

Gwendolen, a former librarian and no-nonsense woman, comes to town in search of her friend’s daughter Freda and her friend Florence, one of many provincial girls who steal away to London for a chance at stardom. Dodging the groping hands of the powerful and the pangs of hunger, Freda and Florence are willing to endure it all to not have to trudge back home and admit defeat – well, one more so than the other. Gwendolen teams up with Frobisher, agreeing to spy on the Coker family in hopes of finding Freda and Florence. Atkinson shows the lure of the den of iniquity is strong in post World War 1 London, as any feeling of security was zapped by the former conflict.

It took me a minute – okay several chapters – to get into this book. As I rarely condemn a novel to DNF (did not finish), I kept trudging and like Gwendolen and Frobisher, the lure of temptation got me. Atkinson’s wordplay is astounding, as she layers significant detail into a single phrase. The book can be read quickly or methodically studied – an impressive authorial feat. The character development is a slow build, as no one seems especially likable initially. It reminded me of the HBO show Succession, where I kept starting the series over wishing for someone to root for. Nonetheless, I sped through the second half of the book, thoroughly immersed in this century-old world far removed and am still finding delightful specks of literary grime.  

“Life was for absorbing, not recording. And in the end, it was all just paper that someone would have to dispose of after you were gone. Perhaps, after all, one’s purpose in this world was to be forgotten, not remembered.”