The Convalescent opens in 1986 with a murder.
Old Mrs Templeton, a widow, has been killed and hastily buried in her own back garden. Nothing has been stolen. Her estranged son, William, is wrenched out of an alcoholic daze by the police to be brought to the scene of the crime. Pickled in booze, William doesn't remember much about his old life. All the lines to his past, he says, are down.
The Convalescent, then, is about a man putting himself back together, galvanised by a violent, horrific loss. But that's not quite right. It seems less about putting the old pieces back together than in forging oneself anew, with the narrative hinting not at a gradual, extended improvement but a decisive make-or-break moment.
William's convalescence, his transition from indolent alcoholism to functional living, begins with him taking a job as a caretaker on a deserted farm with a few "hamlets" of outhouses which are vulnerable to trespassers. Eventually, he realises that the job was specifically designed for someone who isn't functioning on all cylinders, which brings him down a bit, but nevertheless he carries on trying out different ways of walking; walks that might suit a stronger, healthier person.
Diary extracts from earlier stages of William's life flesh out his character, showing his gradual decline and eventual acceptance of his alcoholic destiny. And Gilmour's handling of one particular facet of his character - William complains that he's lost the ability to express himself plainly and directly - is brilliantly, naturalistically handled, entirely avoiding caricature while recognisably evoking the moments when people's roundabout ways of working out their thoughts leave us none the wiser.
From the farm, William graduates to becoming an odd-job man in an old folks' home, where his rusty social skills start to return and he meets the Reverend Walsh, an ambiguous character who, while initially loathsome, may be more than he seems.
There's a refreshingly unromantic and level-headed tone to The Convalescent. Taking control of your life and becoming a healthier and stronger individual is always promoted in sunny, positive terms, but Gilmour highlights the uncertainty and anxiety that accompanies such a struggle, accentuating the shadows as well as the light.
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