Reflections on: The Night Watch by Sarah Waters

My writing teachers are big fans of the Hero’s Journey story structure. It is something that with a little prodding you can see just about anywhere and many books use this same basic structure. The protagonist starts in one place emotionally (intellectually) and by the end of the story has arrived in a new emotional place, with a new realisation of himself or of the world. You can play around with the structure (by incorporating flashbacks and the like) but the reader always expects to end somewhere different from the start, usually with a sense of the problem in the protagonist’s life having been resolved. So you can understand my confusion when I realised that this book does not do that.

This story starts in 1947 and introduces us to four protagonists living in post-war London. It sets up their lives and their problems and even seems to end with each of them in place to start their journey. It focuses right in on their lives and gives no explanation for how they got to be the way they are, although hints are scattered like breadcrumbs in a forest. For me it seemed very clear that each in their own way is stuck (its explicitly stated in Duncan’s case). I rather took it was a commentary on the damage done to these people by the war.

Then the story jumps back to 1944. Things get pretty heavy here in places. Some of our characters clearly excelled in the war environment and others suffered. We get some of our questions answered but its a long way from all.

Finally the book jumps back again to 1941. It is short section. Its where everything began for our characters. Its an ah ha moment for why they are the way they are. For most of them the root of why they got stuck is right here.

But the thing is, the book never returns to 1947. The seemingly insurmountable problems of the first act are never resolved.
And yet the book doesn’t feel unfinished. I think its because for most of the characters 1947 closes out on a potentially uplifting note. The potential or the hope for a successful resolution is presented. You feel this most especially with Duncan, who I would guess is the character the audience probably felt most sorry for.

I think of this book as a character study. There is no drive-through plot. But the author does an amazing job of keeping the reader invested because of the mystery – how did these people get like this? What happened in the before? The place we see at the start of the book is in fact the end of a journey that is being revealed to us in reverse. Which is kinda mind-blowing.

The author does not give the characters or the audience a happy-ever-after. A metaphor for life perhaps? HEA’s don’t come from outside forces forcing us to change but from each of us taking ownership of our problems? I also can’t help but feel it is playing into a statement about the damage war does to people. Even in a case like this where none of these people saw the front lines, they still feel irreparably damaged by the war.

Some other prescient moments that touched me in the book were:
The different ways of being queer. And then the profound disconnect of having queer feelings but not being like other queers – not fitting into that model. And the way internalised homophobia pivots with those feelings. Compare Duncan to Stella and the way he thinks and feels about those kinds of queers.
The intense realism of the post-war world. From sanitary products to home decor. I don’t think I have read anything that brings the 1940’s to life so vividly.
Not shying away from or shaming the unpleasant realities of menstruation – but in a way that forwards the plot. I mention this one because I have read a few books where the author went out of their way to bring it in, but it just felt in the way.
The post-war amnesia: How quickly everybody stopped talking about it, stopped thinking about it. How people wanted to forget it. I have had almost the exact some conversation regarding covid just a few months ago.

A subtle, interesting book that will reward repeated reading. I loved it.