The Honeymoon

Information and Book Review

Current TurboBookSnob Ranking: 9

Justin Haythe

Justin Haythe is a screenwriter by profession. This is his first novel.

The TurboBookSnob expected to like The Honeymoon least of all of the Booker-nominated novels this year.  The description of the book painted the picture of a bland relationship-gone-awry plot.  To say that the description accurately conveys the key highlights of The Honeymoon's storyline, while technically accurate, detracts from the novel's impact.  Justin Haythe manages to turn a relatively uninteresting tale with unsympathetic characters into a satisfying and well-written novel.

The Honeymoon centers on Gordon Garrety, a young American who has led a nomadic life, trailing after his mother Maureen as she wanders through Europe's art museums, ostensibly writing an art guide to Europe.  A lifetime of accommodating his mother's selfish and capricious needs has rendered Gordon incapable of developing strong feelings about anything or making decisive choices in his life.

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The moment when I realized my feeling for Annie came as we wound our way back into London.  I had wandered down the train to find us something to eat.  The snack car had run out of almost every item on the menu.  The steward was totally uninterested in serving me.  He dragged his hand over each sandwich as I pointed through the dirty glass and I had to point out the two cans of lemonade, one after the other, in the fridge.  As it was Sunday, the train was free of students and quiet.  I studied each of the sleeping or reading passengers as I passed the cabins on the way back to ours and decided that there was no woman on the train as attractive as Annie.

When I finally made it back to our compartment, I found Annie asleep.  She had let her hair fall across one eye and the skin on her cheek creased slightly where she rested her face against the seat cushion.  I glanced tentatively at the large man with swollen forearms and scrubbed skin sharing our compartment.  He never looked away from the window or changed the angry expression with which he watched the passing landscape.  I put our snacks down on the small white plastic table marked with grey initials.  Someone had shakily scratched another Annie's name.  I dragged my finger over the letters and the crushed heart the artist had added beside her name.

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