*LONGLISTED for the 2023 Women’s Prize for Fiction*

3.5⭐️


“Picture houses are built for dreams, lies and fantasies. The plaster creatures clinging to the walls and ceilings, the fairground effect of all those lights and mirrors can only be accessory to the wildest illusions, the grandest, most unrealistic seductions.”

Children of Paradise by Camilla Grudova follows our narrator Holly (not her real name ) through her stint as an usherette in an old and dilapidated single-screen independent movie theatre “The Paradise” described as “a Frankenstein’s monster of a place” with trapdoors leading into the sewers, hidden doors and an eerie, mysterious vibe. The Paradise screens modern money makers as well as classic cinema, serving popcorn and snacks and equipped with a bar (the snacks et al, as Sally the Manager points out, is a main source of their revenue). Initially, Holly, who is new to the unnamed city, feels isolated from her coworkers and it takes a while for her to be accepted into their fold. Eventually, she becomes a part of the group, joins them in their late-night screenings and house parties, shares drugs they pilfer from what is left behind by their customers and also indulges in a torrid affair with a coworker. In other words, her life is defined by her association with The Paradise and her coworkers – a family of poorly paid movie-loving people - and she seems to settle into a rhythm that is disrupted when the theatre is sold to a corporate bigwig after the eccentric owner Iris (with whom Holly has quite a few interesting interactions) passes on. The changes are unwelcome, the employees are resentful and fearful of losing their jobs and the cinema is gradually being transformed – in more ways than one.

Camilla Grudova excels at world-building. Each chapter begins with the name of a film, which I found interesting, as is the fact that the title of the book is also taken from a classic French film. The story pays homage to classic cinema and independent theatres and how the movie-going experience has changed over time. I won’t say that any of the characters are particularly likable or interesting but her characterizations read like caricatures - from the glamorous manager Sally, and the eccentric owner Iris, to the quirky employees and the new assistant manager Andrew. The author uses vivid imagery in describing the old building complete with rather disgustingly detailed descriptions of the interiors and the day-to-day cleanup and maintenance, which is off-putting. An element of satire is introduced into the narrative as we follow the gradual phasing out of the old cinema as it becomes a part of a popular profit-centered corporate chain. Overall this novella is an immersive read with a Gothic feel, elements of surrealism and satire that turns dark and disturbing as the story progresses. An intense read that left me more than a tad unsettled. Not quite an enjoyable read for me personally, but definitely compelling and memorable. ( )

The Paradise is an ancient cinema, now well past its prime, situated in an unnamed city in an unnamed country:

It was built on the ground floor of a block of flats around the time of the outbreak of the First World War, its entrance like the building’s gaping outh, a sparkling marquee teeth grin with the word PARADISE written in pale yellow neon.

The cinema is also built over a sewer and drainage overflows into the hall at strategic points in the book. It exudes a sense of filth and grime.

On a whim, the narrator, Holly, joins the underpaid staff of the Paradise and is slowly accepted into their coterie, made up of eccentric movie-loving misfits. The staff spend long hours at the Paradise. Days and nights passed in the cinema are followed by binge-watching of classic and art films at their respective dingy apartments. Despite the fact that the Paradise is dilapidated and their working conditions far from great, these eccentrics feel an intimate connection to the dirty old building, to the point that Helen occasionally has (drug-fuelled?) “time-slip” experiences haunted by visions the cinema’s past. When the owner of the Paradise dies, the cinema is taken over by a chain, leading to an outbreak of bloody violence.

This is novel best appreciated by cinema buffs. Its title is a tribute to Marcel Carné’s Les Enfants du Paradis, and each of the chapters is named after a different classic movie, which creates interesting parallels and counterpoints with the facts described in the respective chapters. Grudova draws on her love for the cinema and her experiences working as an usherette at the Cameo in Edinburgh after moving there from her native Canada. I’ve read elsewhere that Iris, the cinema owner, is based on a real character.

There is also a magical feel to the novel – which gets darker and darker, moving into Gothic and horror territory. The final chapters, an angry indictment of capitalism and gentrification, reminded me of other socially conscious contemporary novels, such as Fiona Mozley’s [b:Hot Stew|54110441|Hot Stew|Fiona Mozley|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1605105945l/54110441._SY75_.jpg|84458512].

There is, in other words, much to admire and dig into here, but I must admit that the novel was not for me. The pervasive sense of oppressive filth and decay (rather than “decadence” in the Romantic fin-de-siecle sense of the word) wore me down, and I found the novel’s obsession with bodily fluids, secretions and excretions gross and off-putting. Considering the nightmarish aspects and atmosphere of the Paradise, (let alone its working conditions) I found it hard to understand the staff’s connection with it and why they would take its takeover so much to heart.

Children of Paradise is receiving rave reviews and I can understand why, but unfortunately, I cannot bring myself to join the chorus of acclaim.

https://endsoftheword.blogspot.com/2022/07/children-of-paradise-by-camilla-grudo... ( )