Julian (2006) Paperback, Arthur & George by Barnes

As a historical novel, "Arthur & George" does an excellent job of immersing the reader in turn-of-the-century Victorian England. The period details are convincing, and all the characters and the omniscient narrator exhibit Victorian worldviews that are free from the obvious contamination of distinctly 21st century values and concerns. This novel therefore does what the best critical historical fiction does: it critiques the prejudices and assumptions of a particular time period not through the moralizing of an omniscient narrator or a character with a 21st century mindset, but rather by crafting plot developments and dialogue that leave the reader no choice but to see historically contingent irony and injustice in the characters' interactions with one another.

This novel is based on a true story of a man (the George of the title) whose conviction and imprisonment for a violent crime were vigorously challenged by a campaign spearheaded by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the creator of Sherlock Holmes and the eponymous "Arthur" of the title. I do not think I am giving anything away by specifying the identity of Arthur, but it is an interesting feature of the novel's narrative development that the reader is not given the full details of George's identity until the story is well underway, and when it does become clear who George is and what he represents, his plight takes on a new and interesting thematic significance that leads into a provocative exploration of how the idea of being English/British was defined and redefined at the turn of the last century. The crime of which George is accused is the central mystery of the narrative, and in many ways this novel is an homage to Doyle's Sherlock Holmes stories, though what the author gives the reader is essentially a fallible, very human Sherlock Holmes transposed into the real world limitations of Victorian England. For this reason, perhaps, there are no clear-cut resolutions to be had for many of the mysterious and enigmatic plot points in this narrative, but even so I found the book very riveting and ultimately satisfying. Moreover, the fact that it is based on a true story, and the fact that real historical documents are quoted throughout the narrative (according to an Author's Note), also enhanced its appeal for me.

One other positive aspect of this novel that deserves to be mentioned is its style. The wonderful opening of the novel exemplifies it: "A child wants to see. It always begins like this, and it began like this then. A child wanted to see. He was able to walk, and could reach up to a door handle. He did this with nothing that could be called a purpose, merely the instinctive tourism of infancy. A door was there to be pushed; he walked in, stopped, looked. There was nobody to observe him; he turned and walked away, carefully shutting the door behind him. What he saw there became his first memory [...]." The prose here (and throughout the book) is eminently readable, characterized by a matter-of-fact elegance that almost never wastes words or gives way to exhibitionist displays of verbal virtuosity. The author is also adept at coming up with striking turns-of-phrase, like "the instinctive tourism of infancy" in the quotation above. Overall, the style made for a very pleasant and relatively quick read.

There are, however, some aspects of this novel that I found seriously problematic. The novel's total immersion in the Victorian worldview is an admirable feat, but an unpleasant side-effect of its successful evocation of pure Victorian attitudes is that the reader is frequently subjected to insufferable paragons of Victorian virtue who would be just as at home in the most simperingly earnest Trollopian novelization of blissful Victorian domesticity. In particular, all the female characters are characterized by self-effacing modesty, unquestioning obedience to their husbands, saintly and meek endurance in the face of hardship, and the apparent incapability of engaging in any kind of deep or sophisticated introspection. The character Arthur is configured as a typical exemplar of bluff, he-man Victorian masculinity who has just enough self-awareness to engage in frequent, repetitive, and tedious bouts of angst-y handwringing about his inability to fully live up to his chivalric ideals, but not enough self-awareness to effect any meaningful or satisfying (for the reader, that is) developmental changes in his character. Ultimately, not one of the characters in this book is really likeable. Even George, who exhibits many heroic qualities that won my sympathy and esteem, is, for reasons of plot and theme, presented as a stolid and un-energetic character who left me underwhelmed and wanting more from him.

In sum, this is a historical novel whose greatest strengths lie in its subject matter, plot, period detail, and style, and its greatest weakness in its characters. There are of course good reasons for the characters to have been portrayed the way that they are, not least of which is that these portrayals markedly enhance the Victorian flavor of the book. I also suspect that the reader is meant to find many of the values the characters espouse distasteful and absurd, but the curious lack of subtlety in highlighting this distastefulness and absurdity renders many of these otherwise interesting characters into little more than tiresome caricatures.

Although I'm aware of his reputation, I have never read Julian Barnes before. But I could tell from the beginning of this book that I was in the hands of a master. In ARTHUR AND GEORGE, Barnes writes very convincingly in a Victorian Age style. His book describes the parallel experiences of George Edalji, a methodical Englishman of East Indian descent, and Arthur Conan Doyle, author of the Sherlock Holmes stories, Peer of the Realm, and sportsman.

This book is based on a true story of how George's legal predicament evolved into a landmark case regarding appeals. I am reluctant to reveal plot details for fear of spoiling anyone's enjoyment of the tale. Rest assured that the book is abominably clever, and Barnes has a real gift for slipping in details that reveal much to the observant reader.

I will warn of two things, however. First, this book employs a good deal of exposition, particularly in the early going. Stick with it, as once the background is painted in, Barnes does marvelous things moving the tale forward.

My other concern is that the book does lag badly at its mid-point mark. Although the two protagonists are quite different, Doyle is oddly the less interesting of the two characters at that stage. We come to admire George and his steadfastness, while we come to see Doyle as a man constantly on the move, seemingly trying to escape from under the heel of his own repressed virility. (Boy, I never thought I'd write a sentence like that.)

These cavils aside, a brilliant book. I'm glad to have read it.

After reading The Sense of an Ending I was eager, no desperate, to find something else by Julian Barnes: Arthur and George, whilst considerably longer and slower than Sense of an Ending, did not disappoint. In the same way that Kate Summerscale's "Suspicions of Mr Whicher" used the murder of a child to give a portrait of the English middle classes in Victorian times, this work uses a series of livestock mutilations to throw a huge amount of insight into the mindset of Edwardian England, employing the magnificent, bombastic Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and the introspective, humble George Edalji as the spotlights. As one would expect from Barnes, the writing itself was always precise and intelligent. He has a way of asking all the questions that ought to be asked and supplying enough different answers to satisfy the most diverse of readers: by the end of the book it seemed to me that he identified himself more closely with George - who wrote a modestly successful manual on the subject of railway law- than with the literary giant Arthur: which is somewhat ironic. One thing I particularly like about his style is the way he dissects elegantly a simple statement or fact and then draws out a whole host of unexpected conclusions. He is also highly skilled in portraying the drama of some of the encounters: the meeting between Sir Arthur and the police chief Anson is a masterpiece.

For me the book was not quite as perfect as Sense of an Ending: there were a few "boring bits". In the middle of the book, for example, I felt there was a period of stagnation where the description of Arthur's relationship with Jean Leckie spent too long going nowhere: cleverly written, but ultimately superfluous. The final thirty pages of the book, dealing with George's attendance at a seance in the Albert Hall, struck me as pointless: it seemed that Barnes wanted to say a few words on the subject of spiritism and used this book as a vehicle: and Conan Doyle's proclivity for the subject as an excuse. Perhaps the fault is mine for not being interested in spiritism.

All in all, despite these minor criticisms, this is a superb contribution to English literature and I am frankly amazed that anyone can juggle simultaneously with as many multiplex ideas as Julian Barnes does: indeed he seems to make it look easy.

Having never read any works by Julian Barnes prior to this novel, I feel as though I have really shortchanged myself. "Arthur & George" is a semi-fictional account of the relationship that developed between Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and George Edalji, who was a victim of a miscarriage of justice, tabloid sensationalists and social prejudice. The novel begins by devoting short chapters to each man beginning with their respective childhood through adulthood - it lays down the foundation that helps the reader understand how divergent these two lives were until they finally cross paths. The two men could not have been more different in personality and circumstance. Sir Conan Doyle was a robust, athletic, imaginative and intelligent man who found love twice and became famous for his Sherlock Holmes detective novels. George Edalji, on the other hand, was introverted, constrained, somewhat naive, and although intelligent, he was not clever or witty - he became a relatively successful solicitor, and was hardly noticeable until wrongfully accused of mutilating livestock. The poor man was convicted and spends seven years in prison despite the lack of real evidence, all the while maintaining his innocence, and firmly believing in the system of law that had become his profession. It is after his release that their lives converge when George Edalji writes Sir Arthur Conan Doyle asking for his help to prove his innocence, solve the mysterious case and hopefully win a pardon. George's plight appeals to Sir Conan Doyle's sense of indignation and he uses his Sherlock Holmes fame to champion a cause célèbre.

The story of "Arthur and George" is a beautifully written narrative of the era (late 19th / early 20th Century) in which it is set. A somewhat silly comparison, but the overall tone reminded me of those lovely PBS series: "Upstairs Downstairs", "Brideshead Revisited", "Jewel in the Crown", and "Reilly Ace of Spies" - it is so evocative that the dialogue engages you with its textures and nuances - posh upper class and Brummie working class accents with "Rule, Britannia!" all the while playing in the background. I wanted George Edalji and Sir Conan Doyle to triumph over the inept police officers and shoddy investigation. I wanted the real culprit exposed and mystery solved. I wanted officials to finally admit their mistake and restore Mr. Edalji's good name and reputation. I wanted justice.

"Arthur & George" effectively raises questions about guilt and innocence, nationality and race, sensationalism and public opinion - the story based on a historical event is evidence that our society really has not changed much in one hundred years. I recommend the novel for its fascinating story and the incredible prose

This fictionalized account of two historical figures is especially intriguing because of the extraordinary criminal case that made their lives interconnect and that, despite being mostly forgotten since, contributed to an important change in English law. With great skill and some empathy, Barnes creates not only believable in-depth portraits of two such diametrically different characters, he also brings out the complexity of English society at the turn of the twentieth century. Arthur takes on the case he believes to be a blatant example of "miscarriage of justice" with George as the innocent victim.

Both protagonists are introduced through their dissimilar family backgrounds and upbringing. Barnes places great emphasis on illustrating how the divergent socio-cultural environments formed the two individuals early on and set them on such different paths: Arthur develops into a popular, wealthy and worldly gent, who copes in private with his secret demons. He has remained famous beyond his own lifetime. Whereas George, despite (or because of) the support of his (over?)caring family, his intellect and diligent study, never really made it in society. He is hardly known outside a small circle of insiders and legal experts.

Following their story chronologically, Barnes presents the two narrative streams in parallel, until they merge when circumstances demand it. Giving anything more away of the personalities, even their last names, or the plotline, as many have done, is a disadvantage and diminishes the pleasure of following the step by step revelation of characters, context and events. Numerous clues are suggested, hints given, but they could also be false leads, just as they must have happened in the actual criminal proceedings. This section of the novel is the most gripping and convincing.

While the author evidently researched the characters, the specific circumstances and the wider background in great depth, one wonders at times about the line between fact and fiction. This applies in particular to the depiction of some of Arthur's character traits, such as, for example, his relationship to the strong women in his life, in contrast to his fervent objection to the women's vote and their active participation in public life. At times in the middle section, Barnes's detailed portrayal of Arthur comes across as a bit too long winded and drawn out, without adding much to our deeper understanding, but letting the attention drift, only to pick up again as the action moves forward. George's portrayal is more succinct and successful in my view. His characterization appears to be more convincing and while he may have had some unusual behaviour patterns they appear to be consistent with his actions in the case and its aftermaths.

What may have been the novel's primary objective for Barnes? Possibly the miscarriage of justice case that contributed to changing the criminal appeal system in England? Was it also to depict a society at the turn of the twentieth century with some of its blatant societal prejudices and how they blinded the course of justice? This wider context in particular, gives the novel depth and importance beyond the sheer entertainment value of a real-life detective drama. Without doubt, George's case, more or less forgotten since that time, deserved to be re-told and re-evaluated; Barnes did it brilliantly. [Friederike Knabe]

The Court of Criminal Appeal came about partly due to the impassioned campaigning of... Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the creator of Sherlock Holmes??

After finishing Julian Barnes' marvellous novelization of this extraordinary story, Arthur & George, I was on a high. It starts subtly then grows in power, opening a shocking window into historic racism in Britain. I am evangelical about this novel. IMHO *everyone* should read it.

Julian Barnes is an elegant writer with an interesting mind. From paragraph to paragraph, these qualities are fully apparent in ARTHUR & GEORGE, especially as Barnes examines the emotional issues his characters face. Here is George Edalji at 54, roughly 25 years after he was wrongly incarcerated and a cause célèbre.

"...But most nowadays had never heard of him. At times he resented this, and felt ashamed of his resentment. He knew that in all his years of suffering, there had been nothing he longed for more than anonymity. The Chaplain at Lewes had asked him what he missed, and he had replied that he missed his life. Now, he had it back; he had work, enough money, people to nod to in the street. But he was occasionally nudged by the thought that he deserved more; that his ordeal should have led to more reward. From villain to martyr to nobody very much--was not this unfair...."

Barnes has divided A&G into four sections. These are BEGINNINGS, BEGINNING WITH AN ENDING, ENDING WITH A BEGINNING, AND ENDINGS. Within each, Barnes has tucked appropriate narrative material.

For example, BEGINNINGS, shows the young Arthur Conan Doyle and George Edalji establishing themselves in life. It also shows the start of an ugly and threatening letter writing campaign against the Edalji family and the first glimmer of hostility toward the Edaljis from the police.

Meanwhile, BEGINNING WITH AN ENDING, provides, among other things, a disturbing picture of the police, who begin an investigation of animal mutiliations with the ending--that is George Edalji is the perp--and then create evidence to fit their theory. What I'm saying, in other words, is that Barnes has created a narrative with content that fits, on reflection, into four buckets.

This description makes A&G sound like a tightly organized book. But for this reader, the structure suggested by these section titles doesn't really capture the reading experience. Indeed, this novel actually seems to progress from a slightly stiff examination of young male lives in an imperfect Victorian world, to a long police procedural and courtroom drama, to a biographical tale of a manic gentleman as he fights injustice and his tendency to depression, to a sad summing-up. For this reader, A&G, while always elegant and interesting, reads like a hodgepodge with Barnes unwilling to settle on a single narrative perspective to tell his story.

Here, I say "unwilling" because this hodgepodge-like quality struck me as a deliberate narrative strategy. Proof for me exists in Barnes's frequent mention of the disappearance and then unsolved murder of Dr. Sophie Hickman, a crime concurrent with the mutilations. It's just a small story point. But through this loose end, Barnes seems to be saying that facts in life don't really fit into an easy narrative structure.

So, in the final analysis, I'd call this a bold novel, organized in concept but deliberately messy in the execution. In a way, A&G is the opposite of an Arthur Conan Doyle mystery, where every messy fact narrows the case and leads the ingenious Holmes to a neat and inevitable solution.

I found this book to be very interesting indeed. It was historical fiction but felt more like a good and proper non-fiction account of these mens' experiences; a snapshot kind of biography. I was surprised to find that someone like Julian Barnes wrote something so precise because I thought he was more into comedy but hey, look, another Rennaisance man. This book is a wonderfully well written account of a true landmark case that happened in England to a misunderstood and very innocent Indian English man. The poor man was wrongly imprisoned for some ghastly animal killings and the resulting cry of outrage caught the attention of none other than Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The victim, George, wrote to Arthur asking for help in clearing his name. The rest is history. There are, of course, subplots woven in skillfully that keep one turning pages. This book should please history buffs and Sherlockians alike. I certainly liked it.

I knew before reading this book that the Arthur in the title is Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. I assumed that he and George were friends, something like Sherlock Holmes and Watson. Wrong. Arthur's underwhelming ophthalmology practice affords him plenty of time to concoct detective novels, but elsewhere in England George Edalji is being prosecuted for a series of brutal crimes that he did not commit. George's father is a vicar from India, and George, an attorney himself, becomes the prime suspect, partly because of bigotry and partly because the police are just plain incompetent and need someone to blame. Did I mention that this is based on a true story? The first part of the book is a little slow, as the author sets the scene with background info on the two main characters, but then the pace starts to pick up. Arthur falls in love with a much younger woman, while his wife is slowly succumbing to tuberculosis. George's story is really the backbone of the book--his Kafkaesque trial, his time in prison, and the year after his release, in which Sir Arthur revitalizes his own life by helping clear George's name. In the background lies another important character--the English justice system. Apparently George's case helped bring about some significant improvements, including introduction of the Court of Appeals. Another side topic is the rise of spiritualism and Sir Arthur's involvement. I have mixed feelings about the séance at the end of the book, where a crowd of 10,000 is expected to rejoice at Arthur's having passed to the other side. However, the author's two sentences describing George's contemplation of joy are my favorite lines in the book, which beautifully sum up George's "stolid" life:

"In his childhood there was something called pleasure, usually accompanied by the adjectives guilty, furtive or illicit. The only pleasures allowed were those modified by the word simple."

This novel is based on a true story, which brought together the lives of two notable characters, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and George Edalji. In a long but indispensable initial exposition, the author tells, in an alternate way, the lives of the two protagonists. Arthur is the son of a dipsomaniac man and an ultra-dominant mother, who becomes a doctor. Thanks to the very few patients he sees, and to the model of his mentor Joseph Bell, he creates the most famous detective in history, which catapults him into universal fame and to be Peer of the Kingdom.

George, the son of an Anglican priest of Indo-Parsi descent, is a shy, short-sighted, and solitary man who grows up convinced of the superiority of the virtues and rectitude of British culture, and who becomes a lawyer. But then he sees his life destroyed by an inifamous and inscrutable campaign of calumny which takes him to jail, unfairly of course. During his long struggle to regain his freedom and reputation, George recruits the aid of the famous writer.

Who, in his turn, has had an agitated life which then has to pass through a tough trial: his wife, Touie, who suffers from tuberculosis, has become an invalid, and with time Arthur has fallen in love with the young Jean Leckie. Their relationship is close but entirely Platonic until Touie's death. Durnig those years, the agnostic and rationalist Arthur has become involved with Spiritism, so fashionable back then, until turning into its Apostle. Both lives, each with its own travails and triales, become entangled in a very moving story.

Barnes, as usual, does a great job developing his characters, so different, so lovable each in his own terms. The prose is wonderfully evocative of the Victorian style, with a rich language, attention to detail, and full rounded scenery. Barnes is undoubtedly one of the best writers alive.

Throughout the novel, Barnes manages a fine balance between the kind of teeth grinding detective suspense that his alter-ego, the detective writer Dan Kavanagh, would be proud of, and a much slower, and more universal exploration of the way in which different people handle stress and make meaning in their lives. The language remains powerful while never interfering with the careful and detailed unfolding which Barnes has deliberately set. Almost purple metaphors like "Explode like the boiler of a tramp steamer and just sink beneath the waves with all hands," are set off by cool narration: "The Mam does not answer. It is not necessary to refuse his simile, or even to ask if he has seen a doctor for chest pains." (189) This is a novel both quiet and introspective, and full of rich action. In a bumbling, boisterous way, Arthur is the hero of this novel, and ends up lauded, famous, and respected as the man who was always willing to go out on a limb for the sake of justice, but he is also fallible. His predictions on the future utopia of mankind and the demise of organised religion is most notably wrong, and as a character, it is his failings which are most appealing. When Arthur first meets George, he tells him, "No, I do not think you are innocent. No, I do not believe you are innocent. I know you are innocent." (219) This parallels his earlier conversation with his mother when he speaks of Jean`s love for him, "I think she does. I believe she does. How can I know she does?" (189) Knowledge is a tenuous thing, subject to manipulation, shadings of light, emotions and desire. Arthur's quest, set out in the most chivalrous of narratives, is one for inner knowledge. Inspector Anson, another culprit in the case against George tells Arthur that no one is completely innocent; or, in effect, there is no such thing as full knowledge. We can never really know. Knowledge is Arthur's ultimate quest, and one which the reader feels he has fulfilled, as his metaphorical ghost hovers in the empty chair at the end of the novel.

George too is as appealing to the reader as he is to Arthur, for his tenuous but constant hold on naivety and his belief in righteousness and the ultimate power of logic. Barnes has clearly done a tremendous amount of research, and even a reader who comes to this work without the slightest knowledge of Arthur Conan-Doyle will leave with a good understanding of the key events in his life, from his earliest memory to his death. There are images of George's real book cover, real newspaper clippings, and other quotes from the annuals of history. However, the real magic of Arthur and George is, as is almost always the case with Barnes, in the great beauty of the narrative, which brings these characters into fictional life. Within the tight confines of Barnes' exceptional narrative power, the reader is forced to look at the biggest questions of life. Barnes has taken a particular event in history, and turned it into something universal and timeless.

Magdalena Ball is the author of Sleep Before Evening
"There is so much beautiful writing here, soaring passages." Ruhama Veltfort, author of The Promised Land

i loved "talking it over" and i decidedto read this one without taking a peek at the reviews..and i regret this decision. the first two chapters are typical barnes (with a pinch of kafka in the suspicion trial and conviction parts) but im not so sure about the last two; they are as if someone else took the idea and the pen and went on with it; and killed it all-not in a good way. the dragging, the reviewing pf past events, all the characters, the shifts in the story line (should this be a coming of age story,or a love story, a dry biography, a suspense story...or aaallll of them?) and most of all, the repetitions caused stupor. and i admir, i skipped almost all of the last and read the last page for "closure".

`Arthur and George' is a Victorian crime mystery, and a page-turner that continually feeds information and hints. It is interactive, just like watching an Alfred Hitchcock movie: you are given clues so you can experience and think along with the characters. I was very impressed with how carefully it was written, how real the characters seemed, and the truly unusual story that developed. In fact, the story is so odd that it would almost have to be real! I'm not sure anyone would or could have thought-up a story like this one.

There's lots of color along the way, and some interesting insights into the times, very interesting period dialog, and a peak into one of the more interesting mystical beliefs of the day. The latter, by the way, is almost a back-drop for the story as it comes up time and again.

Be prepared to take your time with this one, do not dismiss any of the information you are given, and be prepared for a little more work than average for this genre. Dan Brown's `DaVinci Code' and `Angels and Demons', for example, are much easier to follow and much more action-packed, but also much less in the character development category. `Arthur and George' goes more at the pace of life, though you surely wouldn't want to experience everything the characters do. In short, you have to invest a little of yourself into the story.

I'm hesitant to give the plot away, so I'll just recommend it along with a little patience. If you like Hitchcock, I think you'll enjoy it.

Nothing prepared me for the sheer delight within these covers. Although the story can be retold and synopsized, as countless reviewers have done, you can't do the events the justice rendered by Barnes's technique. The alternating narratives keep you off balance in the beginning: I warmed more slowly to the cold George than to the bluff and familiar Arthur. There's no particular difference in the narrative stance toward the two characters, but Barnes moves freely enough into each mind to create a different sensibility in each section. By the time we're into the second of the four parts of the novel ("Beginning with an Ending"), we look forward to the adjustments and modifications that come with each new narration. At that point, the "George" and "Arthur" sections get much longer and a conventional narrative begins to unfold, not unlike something from Sherlock Holmes. It's not so much like Conan Doyle's work that it feels imitative - there's just enough suspense, outrage, and concealment to make us turn the pages more quickly and to read for another 15 or maybe 30 minutes. ("I'll just stop at the end of this section," I tell myself.)

Arthur and George don't meet until the middle of the book, which doesn't matter in terms of our interest or involvement. But we are delighted when they finally do come together. The book's design is so prominent and clear that it allows us to laugh or nod classically at the way it has been organized. Like a parishioner smiling as the minister heads into his third point after 12 minutes, the reader registers the form with pleasure, knowing that Barnes, like Conan Doyle, started the novel with the ending in mind. He not only knows where the story will end, he has an eye toward life after the end as well, using Sir Arthur's "spiritism" as a motif that informs the lives of both his main characters as well as the act of reading and interpretation that readers perform. None of this is ever too heavy - there's always enough drama and show business to leaven the proceedings - but it keeps readers skeptical, bemused, and ready to be convinced. It also reminds us, as the mysterious plot does, that we can't know everything about people or the events of this world, let alone the next. The novel continually toys with truth, belief, instinct, and the kind of occluded perception that afflicts everyone, authors included. When we discover, in the last sentence of the author's concluding note, that all of the printed quotations are true, we pull back another step. Having placed ourselves so comfortably in Barnes's hands, it's disconcerting to think that he wasn't just a yarnsmith, weaving and forging (I'm trying to combine "yarn" and "smith") a tale about Doyle playing Holmes in real life, but he's a reporter filling in the interstices of official reports and documents with the novelistic stuff of real life. We're reminded that this is what novelists do, after all - they provide a form for the real, a context from which the truth about our lives can emerge. But we usually assume that things have been distorted or imagined, that the writer has played fast and loose with the details. The author allows his characters to distort at will, so we have the experience of observing and judging from the perspective of the unbiased lawyer, enthusiastic novelist, racist policeman, etc. In the end, Barnes's multi-voiced narrative feels fair, kaleidoscopic, and unbiased, but we're always aware that he knows just what he's doing. It's easy to imagine him divinely paring his fingernails as he molds his story, chuckling in delight from his privileged position above and beyond his handiwork. The reader likewise feels elevated and amused.

i loved "talking it over" and i decidedto read this one without taking a peek at the reviews..and i regret this decision. the first two chapters are typical barnes (with a pinch of kafka in the suspicion trial and conviction parts) but im not so sure about the last two; they are as if someone else took the idea and the pen and went on with it; and killed it all-not in a good way. the dragging, the reviewing pf past events, all the characters, the shifts in the story line (should this be a coming of age story,or a love story, a dry biography, a suspense story...or aaallll of them?) and most of all, the repetitions caused stupor. and i admir, i skipped almost all of the last and read the last page for "closure".

`Arthur and George' is a Victorian crime mystery, and a page-turner that continually feeds information and hints. It is interactive, just like watching an Alfred Hitchcock movie: you are given clues so you can experience and think along with the characters. I was very impressed with how carefully it was written, how real the characters seemed, and the truly unusual story that developed. In fact, the story is so odd that it would almost have to be real! I'm not sure anyone would or could have thought-up a story like this one.

There's lots of color along the way, and some interesting insights into the times, very interesting period dialog, and a peak into one of the more interesting mystical beliefs of the day. The latter, by the way, is almost a back-drop for the story as it comes up time and again.

Be prepared to take your time with this one, do not dismiss any of the information you are given, and be prepared for a little more work than average for this genre. Dan Brown's `DaVinci Code' and `Angels and Demons', for example, are much easier to follow and much more action-packed, but also much less in the character development category. `Arthur and George' goes more at the pace of life, though you surely wouldn't want to experience everything the characters do. In short, you have to invest a little of yourself into the story.

I'm hesitant to give the plot away, so I'll just recommend it along with a little patience. If you like Hitchcock, I think you'll enjoy it.

Nothing prepared me for the sheer delight within these covers. Although the story can be retold and synopsized, as countless reviewers have done, you can't do the events the justice rendered by Barnes's technique. The alternating narratives keep you off balance in the beginning: I warmed more slowly to the cold George than to the bluff and familiar Arthur. There's no particular difference in the narrative stance toward the two characters, but Barnes moves freely enough into each mind to create a different sensibility in each section. By the time we're into the second of the four parts of the novel ("Beginning with an Ending"), we look forward to the adjustments and modifications that come with each new narration. At that point, the "George" and "Arthur" sections get much longer and a conventional narrative begins to unfold, not unlike something from Sherlock Holmes. It's not so much like Conan Doyle's work that it feels imitative - there's just enough suspense, outrage, and concealment to make us turn the pages more quickly and to read for another 15 or maybe 30 minutes. ("I'll just stop at the end of this section," I tell myself.)

Arthur and George don't meet until the middle of the book, which doesn't matter in terms of our interest or involvement. But we are delighted when they finally do come together. The book's design is so prominent and clear that it allows us to laugh or nod classically at the way it has been organized. Like a parishioner smiling as the minister heads into his third point after 12 minutes, the reader registers the form with pleasure, knowing that Barnes, like Conan Doyle, started the novel with the ending in mind. He not only knows where the story will end, he has an eye toward life after the end as well, using Sir Arthur's "spiritism" as a motif that informs the lives of both his main characters as well as the act of reading and interpretation that readers perform. None of this is ever too heavy - there's always enough drama and show business to leaven the proceedings - but it keeps readers skeptical, bemused, and ready to be convinced. It also reminds us, as the mysterious plot does, that we can't know everything about people or the events of this world, let alone the next. The novel continually toys with truth, belief, instinct, and the kind of occluded perception that afflicts everyone, authors included. When we discover, in the last sentence of the author's concluding note, that all of the printed quotations are true, we pull back another step. Having placed ourselves so comfortably in Barnes's hands, it's disconcerting to think that he wasn't just a yarnsmith, weaving and forging (I'm trying to combine "yarn" and "smith") a tale about Doyle playing Holmes in real life, but he's a reporter filling in the interstices of official reports and documents with the novelistic stuff of real life. We're reminded that this is what novelists do, after all - they provide a form for the real, a context from which the truth about our lives can emerge. But we usually assume that things have been distorted or imagined, that the writer has played fast and loose with the details. The author allows his characters to distort at will, so we have the experience of observing and judging from the perspective of the unbiased lawyer, enthusiastic novelist, racist policeman, etc. In the end, Barnes's multi-voiced narrative feels fair, kaleidoscopic, and unbiased, but we're always aware that he knows just what he's doing. It's easy to imagine him divinely paring his fingernails as he molds his story, chuckling in delight from his privileged position above and beyond his handiwork. The reader likewise feels elevated and amused.

Julian Barnes' new novel, Arthur and George, was shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize last year. In it, Barnes fictionalizes a seemingly minor event in Arthur Conan Doyle's life: his meeting and defense of the eccentric George Edalji, a quiet and thoughtful lawyer convicted of the hideous animal mutilations. George is an innocent in every sense of the word; Doyle, despite his adventures, literary career and fame they have afforded him is only slightly more worldly. Barnes does a terrific job "opening up" the sparsely documented events and in the process creates a suspenseful mystery. His literary embellishment of the title characters turns Doyle from merely the man who created literature's greatest detective into an honorable individual who lived a poignant life. In Edalji he has more license as relatively little is known about him. I've enjoyed several of Barnes' his books, Flaubert's Parrot and Love, Etc. being two of my favorites. This one's near the top of the list.

One of the things I like most about this book was its sense of adventure. Doyle lived an incredibly romantic life - he went to sea immediately after receiving his M.D., he travelled extensively, he went to South Africa during the Boer War as both a doctor and a writer - and he did all of it because of his sense of honor and because that was what was done then. He didn't do anything as a stunt, there was seemingly no sense of ennui from which he needed to escape (at least until after mid-life). He and others of his time didn't necessarily seek out what we would term adventure; it was a natural part of their lives.

Julian Barnes inhabits the lives of these two men and with a dry wit gives us a look at Edwardian England from two quite different viewpoints, while providing some insight into things about prejudice and intolerance that never change. Based on a true incident, as films sometimes say, this story of Arthur Conan Doyle resolving some ambivalence in his own life by crusading for an Anglo-Indian solicitor who had been falsely accused and convicted of some ugly and pointless crimes carries the reader along effortlessly. In a prose that is lucid and compelling, Barnes makes the the story of the obscure Edalji as gripping as that of the famous Conan Doyle. He maintains these two points of view with an iron discipline, never lapsing into omniscient narrator, which adds to the mystery. We never do find out who committed the atrocities against animals that Edalji was accused of, and that's not really the point. It is a novel about prejudice and entitlement and change in society -- not at all irrelevant to a time in the United States when a black man and a woman are both running for president.

I'd previously read Flaubert's Parrot by Barnes, another equally readable book in which he uses an historical literary figures to explore the interior of a character.

Intelligent fictionalized retelling of actual true crime in the English country side. Arthur Conan Doyle, a now successful and beloved mystery writer decides to be his own Sherlock Holmes and comes to the aid of George Edalji, accused of various animal mutilations and strange goings on in his hometown. Clearly being targeted for being considered an outsider (although he is born and raised in England to his Indian father, a clergyman, and his Scottish mother, the daughter of a clergyman), Doyle comes to his aid and defense. This ia complicated, character heavy tale, and lots of information about Doyle's life and relationships are also speculated upon brilliantly by Barnes.
I read this while on vacation in New York earlier this year and forgot to write my review then, and this was also a book I read for my book group. Generally, no one else really liked it. I highly recommend it for fans of Arthur Conan Doyle, and it was also oddly appropriate for our fairly xenophobic times.

Arthur and George is a fascinating account of two very different men -- one famous, one not, whose lives crossed only briefly for a memorable historic mystery. Julian Barnes has resurrected an episode out of the life of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, who acted as a real-life detective once or twice in his life, and created a very interesting look at life in turn-of-the-century England. George Edalji, victim of an obvious case of racism and injustice, calls upon Sir Arthur to clear his name. Conan Doyle, reeling from the death of his first wife and his guilt over loving another woman, leaps into the case with enthusiasm ... to mixed results.

Spanning the life times of both men, Julian Barnes has taken on a monumental task, and sometimes I felt as if I was standing outside a house with my nose pressed against the glass, wanting a closer look at the lives of these two men passing so quickly in front of me. Especially in the case of Conan Doyle, I felt I didn't know him at all in the first half of the book, and he only came alive to me as a real man when he met Jean Leckie. Perhaps this was the author's intention, but up until that point I felt that George Edalji was the strongest character in the book, with Conan Doyle only a shadow.

If you're reading these reviews, then you know the story is based on history. I didn't, until I reached the end and read the author's note. Just because Doyle was the author of the Sherlock Holmes books didn't necessarily make the story fact to me.

So I very much disliked the ending until I found out it was based on actual history, and that was, in fact, how the story ended. Then I was able to appreciate it much more.

Overall, the story is well told. They're quite the study of opposites. George is portrayed in detail, you get such a tremendously strong impression of his character it's as if you've met him several times. Doyle seems a little scattered. WHile George is cerebral, internal, and content to be with himself, Doyle is external, receives his satisfaction from interaction with those around him and needs that stimulus to keep himself going.

Does the story bog down in the middle, as the one reviewer said? I didn't think so. For me, it bogged down at the end, when it became numerous pages of narrative. But then, as I say, I learned that it was factually based, and my perception changed to one of appreciation.

To an extent I was initially confused as to whether Arthur and George (Arthur being Arthur Conan Doyle) was to be understood as biography ( which it does very well) or fiction; for the real life 'detective' role that Arthur plays in an endeavour to get justice for George Edalji, an Anglo Indian who he believed to be wrongly accused of mutilating cattle, is Barnes' way of carrying an account which could have been turgid history instead with the impetus of a detective novel. The trial and Arthur at the vicarage tend to relieve the rather slow pace of the novel when it teeters on the edge of dragging.

I'm not sure the author quite marries the best of both worlds, biography and detective, but each world is entertaining, the detective albeit somewhat plodding (no pun intended).

It is good to discover how someone who is wrongfully imprisoned for 3 years, along with the damage to his reputation, nevertheless achieves justice, albeit belatedly. It's also good to see how Barnes again delivers another book in prose worthy of literary fiction.

Perhaps inevitably, because of the seriousness of the subject matter, we miss Barnes' usual wit and novelty but then, if you tend to like historical fiction injected with Conan-Doyle's somewhat clumsy real-life attempts to be a detective on behalf of George Edalji, then you will like Arthur & George.

Julian Barnes scales new heights with the superlative "Arthur & George (A & G)", which easily surpasses his previous work. Like watching a split screen movie with two separate parallel plots, Barnes' narrative shuffles between Arthur's growing up years that saw him make the transition from medical doctor to investigative fiction writer and George's struggle to establish himself as a small town lawyer until the occurrence of a series of savage attacks threaten to upend his career and land him in jail. While Arthur's story is altogether less dramatic, less colourful than George's which frankly is where the main action's at, it is arguably just as moving and engaging. The reader never feels like zipping through the Arthur chapters to get back on track with what's happening with George because Barnes manages to find that delicate balance between the two stories that suggests to the reader that keeping faith with him will yield results as when the two stories finally intersect and meld as one.

As historical fiction, A & G exploring issues of love, class, race and identity in late Victorian England to devastating effect, is never less than compelling. The characters are well rounded and believable, never caricatures, even with the motley crew of bigots out to nail the half-caste George simply because his complexion suggests he cannot be "one of us". The faithfulness in spirit if not in flesh of Arthur's love for his first wife Touie is so poignantly essayed, it cannot leave anyone unmoved.

Barnes' writing is simply exemplary - balanced and true. A & G is contemporary literature of the highest quality that will stand the test of time. Highly recommended.

The novel wades back and forth between alternating lives of Arthur and George. Arthur, a Scot, was a promising student and athlete with consider wit, charm and appeal. George, on the other hand, was born poor, the father of a Parsee Indian, has terrible eyesight, is unpopular, and has far less promise. Arthur's influence and power expands as he matures and he moves within the upper class. George, on the other hand, passes from one day to the next seemingly unnoticed - sleeping and praying in his father's bedroom and devoting his life to studying railway law - leading a life of a quiet common man. And then, the lives of the two men cross when George is accused of crimes that he could hardly comprehend, no less commit - but, because he is a "different sort" George goes to prison because of racism and corruption in the police force. Julian Barnes brings the characters alive in this fictional re-creation of a real life detective story - he keeps you engaged and absorbed in this page turner.

I've just listened to the superb audio version of this wonderful book, and recommend it highly. It was a selection for my bookclub, and I had to really search the local libraries to get hold of an unabridged copy-- absolutely worth evey moment of the 12 (or was it 14?) CDs. The narrator, Nigel Anthony, is the ideal actor for this sort of assignment-- lots of characters, both genders, and various class and regional dialects. I was intrigued at our discussion to realize that some readers had been a bit confused about certain things which I feel were completely clear-- and I believe Nigel Anthony's performance is responsible for a lot of that. The mood he created through the voices for the title characters in particular added so much atmosphere and shape to the story that I rather doubt I would have enjoyed it nearly as much if I'd used my own eyeballs, rather than my ears. I may read further Julian Barnes, but I will definitely look for more audio performances by Nigel Anthony!

I last encountered Julian Barnes in "A History of the World in 10 1/2 Chapters" - an intriguing title, if ever there was one. He then drifted out of my consciousness for many years until, as such coincidences do occur, I picked up two of his books in as many weeks: this one and a collection of short stories whimsically titled "The Lemon Table". As his titles go, "Arthur and George" is resolutely straight forward and no-nonsense, much like the book's primary characters.

When I started the book I had no idea who or what it was about, so there was a pleasurable frisson when I realised a few chapters into it that the "Arthur" of the title is none other than Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. George Edalji is a bit more obscure, being the son of a Parsi pastor (a contradiction, surely, but truth is stranger than fiction) and an Scotswoman.

George is a solicitor, "stalked" by a series of anonymous letters and bizarre occurrences and then accused and convicted of a series of even more bizarre animal mutilations. He is released after serving some part of his sentence and seeks Arthur's assistance in clearing his name. Arthur takes up his cause with characteristic fervour, though mixed results.

On one level this is a straight forward and quite brisk narrative about a curious chapter in English law, one which resulted indirectly in some much-needed reforms. It is also a quiet look at rural and urban life in Victorian England, racist hangovers from the Raj, "spiritism", love and marriage, fame and obscurity.

It is as if Mr Barnes has invited us to peep in at the window and has very kindly pulled the curtains aside. Make what you will of what you see, but this is what there is to see.

The book is peopled with actual characters and deals with events that did occur and have been well-documented, but Mr Barnes brings to the narrative a well-tempered imagination as to motives, dialogue and the characters' introspective moments. (Hence my use of the term "factional".)

The two protagonists share an Englishness that is, strangely enough, not really native to either: one is a "half-breed" and the other is Irish Catholic. But both have a curious doggedness and indomitable will that is quite at odds with their external appearances (and differences).

This is a very "English" novel with an aura of Dickens (it shares some of that chronological setting) and perhaps, Hardy (in its depiction of George's semi-rural life).

Mr Barnes' writing is always temperate and measured and thoroughly enjoyable. He alludes to some fairly obnoxious things (such as the thinly disguised racism that seems to lurk behind George's victimisation and conviction) with an admirable restraint that nevertheless makes the point quite forcefully.

The narrative begins by alternating between Arthur and George from their birth up until when their paths cross in the strangest of circumstances. There is a great cleverness in the way Mr Barnes uses the present tense to describe George's life until the moment of his arrest. Arthur's life, on the other hand, is narrated in the past tense until he meets his wife and life begins, so to speak. Very clever, but so smoothly done that at no point does it appear forced or gimmicky.

This is a thoroughly enjoyable and evenly paced book, narrated with a clear calmness that is refreshing.

I was lucky enough to be given an advanced reader's copy of Julian Barnes' latest novel by a friend of mine. And my interest was captured, completely, from page one. The story is a true one- George Edalji is charged with and convicted of the brutal maiming of farm animals in Staffordshire. He spends three years in jail, and then finds that it is impossible for him to pick up his former life with such a conviction over his head. He writes to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, hoping that the creator of such a fine detective as Sherlock Holmes can help prove his innocence. And thus begins their relationship together.

However, George Edalji and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle don't meet until more than halfway through the book, and even then, they only see each other about three times.

Barnes' genius, then, lies in the rest of the story. It is obvious from the beginning why this book was short-listed for the Booker Prize. Barnes develops his characters from childhood onwards. We learn about Edalji's horrible eyesight, his relationship with his parents and his sister Maud. We learn about Doyle's annoyance with Sherlock Holmes, his relationship with his mother, and his wife, and Jean Leckie. We learn about each of their quirks and traits. And after learning about these two separately, and drawing our own conclusions, Barnes allows the two characters to meet, and allows us to learn about their conclusions of each other.

We learn about racial prejudice (though Edalji refuses to believe he was racially profiled- he staunchly calls himself an Englishman). We learn about the legal system prevalent in England at the time, and how the court of appeals came to be. We learn about spiritualism and attend a seance. We see Doyle's guilt for being in love with a woman that is not his wife, and Edalji's hope that the justice system he so believes in will see his obvious innocence. We learn so much about two extraordinary men, and the people who touched their lives. All told in a masterful, immediate narrative tone that catches your interest and holds it for 400 pages.

This was my first book of the new year, and it is one that I already know will make it onto my list of Best Books of 2006, and probably onto the list of books that stays with you long after you finish reading them. Highly, highly recommended.

Arthur and George is a fictional recreation of the great injustice done to George Edalji, a half-Indian solicitor who is accused of slaughtering farm animals. George is tried, convicted and sent to jail, where he spends three years engaged in menial activities and reading books. When he is released, he begins a campaign to clear his name, which includes writing a letter to the famous Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, creator of the world's most popular literary detective, Sherlock Holmes. Sir Arthur takes up the fight, throwing himself into the cause of clearing George's name.

Barnes is a skilled wordsmith. He carries the story along with ease, never saturating the text with flashy word choices or overly elaborate metaphors. The beginning of the novel, which is structured rather heavily around a series of disjointed chapters alternately titled 'Arthur' and 'George', focus on the upbringing and maturity of the two main characters. Barnes' writing serves these chapters well, as the quiet, mannered sentences ease us into what we expect will be a provoking, interesting and historically accurate portrayal of a forgotten period of Britain's past.

Unfortunately, this is not the case. There are early signs of difficulty in the novel as a whole. 'Arthur' goes on to become Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, a tremendously popular author for his time, and one whose main creation - Sherlock Holmes - has well and truly resonated in the mind of his readers and continues to resonate in our current period. And yet, his literary development is left largely alone, we are told he has published books and is gaining fame and success, but that is all. This leads us to believe that Arthur's life is a charmed one, one of little hardship or difficulty.

So be it. That is easy enough to swallow, if we are to believe that Arthur is the great saviour of George's life. But George, too, is unattractive. He is a quiet, withdrawn young man, but beyond that we know very little. There is never an extensive examination of his psyche, which would allow us to understand the person he is and sympathise with his eventual downfall. Instead, we learn very little about him, and come to agree with the police that he is odd, a queer fellow who is difficult to root for.

So we have, approaching 100 pages into the novel, an unsympathetic character about to be placed into a situation designed to tug at our heartstrings, and an equally unappealing main character about to rescue him and save the day. But, again, Barnes shies away from creating a sense of dramatic urgency by waxing eloquently over Arthur's wife's illness, and his subsequent affair with a much younger woman, Jean. Because Arthur is not a wholly sympathetic character, is it difficult to care much for his marital difficulties. Fortunately for Arthur, these difficulties are only those of time, as his wife seems fairly content to plod along with consumption until she passes away.

The major problem with the story that is being told is that it is not a story. It is a recreation of something that actually occurred, and as with most things in life, there are no neat endings or beginnings. But, because we are reading a novel, it is expected that there will be some semblance of dramatic impact, particularly when Barnes struggles his best to convey an upcoming major event or revelation for a character. George is eventually proclaimed innocent of wrong-doing, but it is a stale, grey sort of innocence - the government was not interested in justice so much as saving face. Were it a Hollywood style production, there would be a grand magnanimous display of righteous justice for all, but because we are dealing with actualities and not fantasy, there is nothing for the reader but dissatisfaction.

The novel is constructed around the artifice of Arthur and George actually having a relationship. They don't, they share nine months together, and even then, it is in a purely professional sense. Arthur is not overly affected by it, though George, perhaps to move the story to its inevitable conclusion, is. There are tantalising hints of a great story between two men who made an important step towards free and great justice for all, but these hints never materialise. We are left with a limping, struggling novel that is pulled ahead only by the confidence of Barnes' words, not the positive qualities of his protagonists.

I imagine a palpable struggle is going on for the honor of being named best British novelist. Candidates: Jonathan Coe, Ian McEwan, John Banville, and Julian Barnes. Each has his fans. Each has his style. And each is worth reading. This big Barnes novel is well researched and cleverly structured. Two lives, that of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and George Edalji, are put together in juxtaposed sections throughout the book, but the book consists of parts called Beginnings, Beginning at the End, and Endings. Barnes knows clearly where he's going from the very beginning. He knows the ending of this work and, like Sir Arthur, then maps out the whole story. Based solidly on historical fact, this work brings together two men who are apparently certain of what reality is supposed to be, but then life teaches them that they really don't know what reality really is after all. In fact, it's the things you don't see that might really be there, and the things you do see that might be illusions. As I read this book, I was ripping through the sections where George, the shy, studious "half caste," has been bullied and falsely accused of mutilating animals. Barnes is brilliant in these sections, particularly when George is put on trial and when the local police are described. But things begin to drag when Barnes has Arthur pondering his marriage, his new love, and his repressed feelings. There's lots of redundancy here, and I skipped through some pages without missing much. Nonetheless, this is a good, entertaining read, and I do recommend it. Julian Barnes is a major talent. All his novels are well written, convincing, and deserve your attention.

I have spent a few years without reading novels, for I like History and time is limited, so I have chosen History instead of fiction.

But I read in a journal a good opinion on this novel, and foreseeing some holidays at Eastern I made up my mind to read it.

"Sober", or "full of restraint" are the words coming to my mind. Possible, due to that, it is so effective. Also, because of the excellence of dialogues, or the way Barnes pictures the characters, slowly, accumulatively. ACD becomes a larger than life figure, George as a firm and calm fellow, able to think with his brains. Stolid is the word.

I was not immediately caught. I however enjoyed the ways Barnes describes Georges' stay in prison. Smoothly, times flies by and four years have elapsed. Truly, as far as I feel them years are short and days may become endless. The scene I like the most is the dialectical duel between ACD and Anson. I did not like so much the end.

So as far as I concerned, I endorse the other readers' opinion: an excellent historical novel. Read it if you find time to.

In 1903, solicitor George Edalji is arrested and convicted of mutilating cattle and other farm animals as well as writing threatening letters. He is sent to prison and disbarred from practicing law.

In 1906 Arthur Conan Doyle still grieves the loss of his beloved life when he learns of the case that some claim is the result of racism. He does a perfunctory review and quickly learns that police and others have harassed the Edalji family before the arrest and apparently continue to do so. He digs deeper as the investigation helps him out of his morbid funk until he concludes that the extremely near-sighted George, who can barely see and was obviously a logical rational person, could not have committed these atrocious acts. Doyle begins a campaign to free George and get him reinstated as a lawyer.

This is a terrific fictionalized account of a real event as Doyle actually undertook a campaign to free the imprisoned Edalji. The investigation grips the audience who will receive a taste of Edwardian England's darker societal practices as much as insight into the two lead characters. Readers will understand how the intelligent George became a victim and how Arthur turned to spiritualism when logic especially that of his society failed him. The details make this a fabulous historical fiction that will shock the audience with its equivalency to the Emile Zola-Dreyfus Affair.

Harriet Klausner

Lessons from Fiction: Part 1. A beginner's guide to convicting an innocent man.

I decided it would be fun to experiment a little. So I am launching an occasional posting entitled: "Lessons from Fiction". Part 1 is called: "A beginner's guide to convicting an innocent man".

The novel which I use as the basis of the case study is Arthur and George (2005) by Julian Barnes, which was shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize in 2005. There is much to this book that is not described in this review, but I will focus on how society, procedure, the police, and a docile court conspired to convict a respectable and innocent man of a series of animal mutilations.

The book is based on a true story, which ultimately led to the setting up of the Criminal Court of Appeal.

Step 1: Find an Outsider

George is an English solicitor practising in Birmingham, and son of the Vicar of Great Wyrley. He grew up in that country parish in the mid-nineteenth century, and was brought up to be fiercely patriotic: "And what is England, George ?" "England is the beating heart of the Empire, father".

He is respected in his profession, he keeps his head down, he commutes every day by train from Wyrley to Birmingham.

He has his practice, and then for pleasure he has railway law. He is perplexed, with all the thousands of journeys that are undertaken by train, why there is not a legal guide available to all commuters informing them of their legal rights as against the railway company. He eventually compiles and publishes "Railway Law for `The Man in the Train' - Chiefly Intended as a Guide for the Travelling Public on All Points Likely to Arise in Connection with the Railways."

George is modest of manner and does not indulge himself: "He has no need or desire to take part in sports, to go boating, to attend the theatre; he has no interest in alcohol or gourmandising, or in horses racing one another; he has little desire to travel."

So, clearly someone who does not inhabit society in a conventional way. But what is it about George that really makes him an outsider ?

He is George Edalji, son of Shapurji Edalji the Vicar of Wyrley. Shapurji Edalji is originally a Parsee from India. George's mother, Charlotte, is not of Indian origin.

Step 2: Rouse a Rabble

Today if you want to trash someone's reputation, even a stranger, you can print wild allegations about them on the internet. Bloggers and commenters seize on it and rumour rapidly becomes fact. Unless they have deep pockets their chances of suing for libel before damage is done is very remote. Of course, in the 19th century, before the days of the internet it was much harder to do this, right ?

A troublemaker maid at the Vicarage is dismissed by the Edaljis and shortly thereafter abusive graffiti about the Edaljis starts appearing across the neighbourhood. Then a large stone key left on their doorstep which George is all but accused by the police of stealing and then "finding"himself.

Next, anonymous letters. Vitriolic. ("Every day, every hour my hatred is growing against George Edalji". And your damned wife. And your horrid little girl. Do you think, you Pharisee, that because you are a parson, God will
absolve you from you iniquities ?"). Praising the police, and the Sergeant who has been pursuing George, defences of the maid, insane hatred of the Edalji family, religious mania. Items start to get delivered to the Vicarage, including dead animals and excrement.

And finally hoaxes of maximum public impact. A local farmer shakes the Vicar's hand one day after church and congratulates him on his new business, showing him the advert in the local paper inviting "Eligible Young Ladies of Good Manners and Breeding" to meet "Gentlemen of Means & Character" by applying to the Rev S Edalji at the Vicarage. The newspaper will not print a retraction "as it has its reputation to consider, and telling the world it has been hoaxed might undermine the credibility of its other stories."

A curate from another parish is furious at being summoned to the Vicarage to perform an exorcism and demands his expenses be reimbursed. The Vicarage is offered out for all manner of goods and services (including as a low-rent lodging, and for stabling facilities). When the Vicar hits back and publishes details about the hoaxes in the local paper, a new advert appears "admitting" the hoaxes and seeking forgiveness. The advert is purportedly signed in the name of George Edalji and another local youth.

The damage has been done. Regardless of how outrageous the hoaxes are, an Outsider has been created, and enough doubt about the probity of Edalji has been sown in the minds of the General Public.

Step 3: Pre-Determine the Outcome and Create the Crime

After two years of persecutions, during which the threats become more serious and murderous, the Vicar approaches the Chief Constable again. The response betrays the intention: "I do not say that I know the name of the offender, though I may have my particular suspicions. I prefer to keep these suspicions to myself until I am able to prove them, and I trust to be able to obtain a dose of penal servitude for the offender."

George probably knows deep down that his goose is cooked: "I think, to be honest, Father, the Chief Constable might be more of a threat to me than the hoaxer."

The hoaxes abruptly stop for a few years. George qualifies as a solicitor. He still lives at the Vicarage, takes regular walks in the surrounding country lanes, opens his own office in Birmingham, and publishes "Railway Law."

Then the mutilations begin - the fictional version of the true story of the Great Wyrley Outrages.

Horses, sheep, cows ripped in the stomach, mostly occurring during the first week of a month, all within a three-mile radius of Wyrley. An extremely sharp implement has been used. Police deliberations: "some ill-feeling a few years ago...black man in the pulpit telling them what sinners they were...this fellow - the son - does he look like a horse ripper to you ?...Inspector, let me put it this way, after you've served around here as long as I have, you'll find that no one looks like anything. Or, for that matter, not like anything. Do you follow?"

Step 4: Abuse a Flawed Procedure

It appears that a hundred years ago, procedures for collecting evidence were not particularly well developed. So having pre-determined the outcome the police now went about gathering evidence. The anonymous letters re-start, and one contains a threat to shoot a police officer and twenty wenches. "Threatening to murder a police officer. Put that on the indictment and we'll be able to get penal servitude for life."

The police hypothesize a fictitious "gang" operating in the area, including the mutilator, the letter writer, the postboy and the co-ordinator. But one name comes up consistently - George Edalji. "There was a campaign of letter-writing before, mainly against the father...We nearly got him at the time...Eventually I gave the Vicar a pretty heavy warning...and not long afterwards it stopped. QED, you might say..."

But most importantly there is the insight into the total disregard for proper procedure. "What you did was catch a fellow, charge him, and get him sent away for a few years, the more the merrier." So the police agree to have George followed and the Vicarage staked out. George of course tries to continue as normal,"as is his right as a free-born Englishman". He is outraged at the waste of public money used in trying to have him followed by police officers day and night.

And then the police visit the Vicarage while George is out and intimidate the family. They do not have a search warrant, but they ask to search the house "to exclude [George] from the investigation if possible". They ask to see George's clothes. And his razors. It transpires that George borrows his father's razor rather than having one of his own - "Why do you not trust him to have a razor ?". George has an old house-coat hanging by the back door that he never uses and is completely dry - "Why is your son's coat wet ?". It has loose thread on it - "It appears that there are pony's hairs, blood and saliva on this coat". George's daily walking boots are handed over - "Why are his boots encrusted with mud ?".

Quarantine the suspect under police orders. The family was instructed not to make any contact with George until given police permission.

Step 5: Restrict the Freedom of the Accused

George is soon arrested at his office. Fatally, he says to the officers: "I am not surprised by this. I have been expecting it for some time." More insinuation at the station: "Did you wear this shirt in the field last night ? You must have changed it. There's no blood on it." And so, as he is moved back and forth from his police cell, his interrogation continues in the same vein, innuendo, unsubstantiated allegation, wrongly attributed motives.

But George is optimistic: "those tormenters and these blunderers had delivered him to a place of safety: to his second home, the laws of England...The police had no evidence against him, and he had the clearest proof of an alibi it was possible to have. A clergyman of the Church of England would swear on the Holy Bible that his son had been fast asleep in a locked bedroom at the time when the crime was being committed...Case dismissed, costs awarded, released without a stain on his character, police heavily criticised."

But from the newspaper the next day, a press release from the prosecutors, selectively quoting fabricated or tenuous evidence, with the newspaper adding the spice of the headline to catch the reader's attention: "VICAR'S SON IN COURT:....So far as can be ascertained at present the result of this search is a quantity of bloodstained apparel, a number of razors, and a pair of boots, the latter found in a field close to the scene of the last mutilation."
Hence guilt is already fixed in the mind of the public.

At his bail hearing, bail is set by the magistrates to be much higher than expected, "given the gravity of the charge." George refuses bail.

Then the trump card at George's committal hearing (where magistrates decide whether to commit to trial). Add in a charge that is so serious that the Magistrates cannot possibly discharge George, namely that of threatening to murder a police officer by shooting him. "Shooting him? Shooting Sergeant
Robinson ? I've never touched a gun in my life, and I've never to my knowledge laid eyes on Sergeant Robinson."

Needless to say, George is indeed committed for trial, after committal proceedings which include a handwriting expert, a 14-year old schoolboy and his classmate who have been on the same Birmingham train as George a dozen times, and a couple of local yokels who saw George out on a walk on the night of one of the mutilations.

Step 6: A Court with no Legal Expertise

The author gives us some nice Dickensian-style metaphorical names. Acting for the Defence is solicitor Mr Meek, with barrister Mr Vachell. The barrister for the defence Mr Disturnal. The Judge is Sir Reginald Hardy. Ah yes, the Judge. Just before the trial is about to start Mr Meek comments to George that it is a little unfortunate that they have been assigned Court B rather than Court A. The reason why this is unfortunate is that "Court A is run by Lord Hatherton. Who at least has legal training."

"You mean I am to be judged by someone who doesn't know the law ?"

The story presented by the prosecuting barrister Mr Disturnal is clearly made up, and clearly has no merit, "but something in repetition of the story by an authority in wig and gown made it take on extra plausibility."

The trial proceeds. The handwriting expert is recalled, and again testifies in detail that the letters are in George's writing. The house-coat becomes "wet"rather than "damp" in the police testimony. A junior officer claims to have found a muddy footprint in the vicinity of the last maiming which matches George's boot. Counsel Vachell for the defence picks holes in the numerous procedural flaws in collecting evidence, but these will be lost on the jury.

And finally, Shapurji Edalji, George's father. Called as a witness. The prosecution's case is now firmly that George left the house in the middle of the night to undertake the maiming. Since George shares a bedroom with his father, and the door is always locked surely his father will testify that he did not see his son leave that night, in which case they "will have to claim that a clergyman of the Church of England is not telling the truth."

Of course, the cross-examination proceeds nothing like this. Shapurji crumbles, and Disturnal sows enough doubt that Shapurji can't possibly have known for sure that his son remained in the room.

If the reader was any doubt beforehand as to what the verdict would be then he is no longer. Only George himself is still sure he will be acquitted. And so his seven-year jail sentence begins.

Step 7: No Judicial Appeal

There was no Court of Appeal at the time. Appeals were only heard by the Home Secretary, but he has thousands of cases on his plate, and typically no judicial training. Letters and expressions of support do arrive, and newspaper campaign is begun in his name. The fact of the matter is though that the man is already ruined, reputationally, financially, and emotionally, not to mention the effect on his family.

Arthur (I will leave you to read the novel to find out who Arthur actually is) finds out about George's case, and takes up the challenge of proving George innocent, both through meticulous evidential examination, and through ramping up the media campaign. Again, you will need to read the book to learn whether the campaign is successful.

The Lessons for Today's World

Of course, this type of abuse of process doesn't occur any more in civilised countries like the UK. After all, the events described took place over 100 years ago, and many changes have been brought in since then. And one couldn't possibly imagine a situation in civilised society today in which:

- The prosecuting body pre-determines the outcome and then goes about collecting the evidence to support its case.

- A single body is responsible for collecting evidence and presenting it to a judge, and is permitted to present it in any way it deems fit.

- The body responsible for collecting the evidence is the same body which publicises its version of events, before the defendant has public right of reply.

- The body responsible for collecting the evidence effectively also has the power to restrict the defendant's right of movement and comment prior to
trial.

- The body responsible for collecting the evidence abuses its own procedures.

- The judge is not legally qualified, and does not require standard procedures of evidence collection to be followed.

- The executive and / or legislature is involved in the decision-making.

Any others ? Comments welcome.

I enjoy Julian Barnes for the most part. However, I found this book and Arthur's pontificating tiresome. Also, I kept looking for a cameo appearance by Dr. Watson which might have livened the book up a bit.

Here goes somewhat lazy advice to potential readers of "Arthur and George":

1) If you know nothing about the book, don't read any reviews, the backflaps etc... the gradual revelations are fantastic and certainly one of the beauties of this novel

2) If you don't know Julian Barnes, and are in doubt whether you should read this book, read "History of the World in 10 1/2 Chapters". Just the first story will be enough to remove any doubt he is a writer worth reading

3)If you've read Barnes' "England England" and couldn't finish it, as I couldn't, don't worry - Barnes is back in excellent form.

4)If none of the above apply, please refer to some of the at times touching reviews that follow just below.

I ordered this book from the library, and when it arrived I had forgotten what it was about. Therefore, I was well into the book before realizing that Arthur was Conan Doyle, and that the book was based on historical fact. It is so well written as a novel, that it would be unnecessary to know anything about the real figures in the book, but knowing a little makes the book even more rich and complex. I stayed up late reading about George's persecution and woke up the next day worried about him. My son got to watch a lot of TV today while I rushed to finish this book (I hope he doesn't read my reviews someday and realize he can get away with anything if I have a good enough book...)

This richly drawn novel defies the rules of categorization. Is it a biography of two Victorian gentlemen, one famous and one infamous? A historical fiction richly exploring English life at the turn of the 20th cenutry? Or is it a whodunit exploring the persecution, trial and wrongful imprisonment of an innocent man?

Julian Barnes masterfully examines the parallel lives of two boys, both born in the late 1800s in very different circumstances. George is the son of a vicar in the working class village of Great Wyrely. A shy and myopic student, he doesn't seem to realize that he is the half-caste result of marriage between his Parsi father and his Scots mother. His English is flawless, his manners above reproach, and he is in every way but one a true English gentleman. In the lily-white Midlands, the bookish young man is subjected to veiled threats and anonymous letters and eventually accused of beastly acts. His belief in the justice of truth and fairness is shattered as he is convicted and jailed.

Arthur is one of seven children born to a strong-willed Irish woman and a lay-about lush who eventually is institutionalized. While George is well-versed in the Bible due to his father's role as a clergyman, Arthur's Catholic upbringing acquaints him with the Ten Commandments. But his well-read mother also introduces the imaginative child to romantic tales of knights and ladies, and Arthur is imbued with the valiant heart of chivalry. George wants nothing more than to become a respected lawyer; Arthur's ambitions run toward the study of medicine, but his dream is to rescue his mother from her meager existence.

Their two lives will not intersect until the men are both in their third decade. By then George Edalji has been wrongfully imprisoned for libel and unspeakable acts of violence, and Arthur Doyle has been knighted and is the world-renowned author and creator of Sherlock Holmes. Arthur has become bored with his popular detective and killed him off so that he can return to the practice of medicine, when he hears of the dubious case against this half-caste lawyer whom many feel has been wronged by police persecution. In true chivalric fashion, Arthur charges to the rescue. He cavalierly adopts his fictional character's highhanded investigative methods; only his fame and reputation rescue the attempt to restore George's good name and position from failure at the hands of the local police, who are anxious to cover up their part in George's persecution.

This book is based on a real-life incident that resulted in elevating George Edalji's case to the front pages of the world press and eventually led to a major change in English law to allow appeals to be heard by a higher court.

Julian Barnes introduced this artful blend of biography, history and masterful storytelling in FLAUBERT'S PARROT. With ARTHUR & GEORGE he has created a wonderfully readable biography of one of history's favorite and most durable authors, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, while introducing us to an examination of Victorian values and their impact on the law, medicine and the morals of the times.

--- Reviewed by Roz Shea

Arthur and George is a true, yet fictionalized, account of a man wrongfully imprisioned for maiming horses. Arthur turns out to be Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, creator of Sherlock Holmes, who takes on the case of finding the real culprit. The story begins with the childhood of each character, and then focuses on George, a half breed Scott/Indian, subject of prejudice, referred to as "colored" and painted to be a "nerd" or misfit, then switches to Sir Arthur's life, until the two lives entertwine as he takes on the case. The story is a sad one in all respects. The voice is difficult to read at times because it is written in a British style with British terms and definitions, which helps support the characters' profiles, but offers a pitfall to those who are not familiar with that form of English. Some of the chapters are so long they seem to be a book by themselves. Tiring at times, it was still hard to put down for long.
You might also be interested in the novel Stars Shine After Dark, available in both paperback and Kindle.

The strange case of George Edalji, and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's quest to prove him innocent after years of public humiliation and imprisonment, is an interesting one -- I just don't think Julian Barnes is the right author to tell it. His approach is an intellectual and chilly one, when I think a little more emotion and heart would have done more to draw the reader -- at least this one -- in. And Barnes is inconsistent in his storytelling. After having Conan Doyle agonize at length over how his children will react to his potential remarriage, Barnes never tells us; the wedding and wedding party are presented in laborious detail (including a description of the bride's gown that seems to have been copied verbatim from accounts of the time), and yet not a word from the kids. Oh, well, I guess it wasn't important after all.

I'm a fan of mysteries, so I found the section in which Conan Doyle plays Sherlock Holmes quite rewarding. But the book is ultimately done in by Barne's pedantic, scholarly approach. He's obviously done his research, but does he have to include every piece of it? (An insignificant cricket match is described in an excruciatingly detailed play by play; what's the point, and why should we care?) And when Barnes tries for poignancy and profundity (particularly in the endless epilogue), the results are generally perfunctory and flat. Additionally, the headings that Barnes has given to the book's individual parts strive for meaning, but are just mystifying and pretentious.

All in all, I think a non-fiction approach (from a Sebastian Junger, perhaps) would have been a much more effective way of telling this fascinating story.

Like another reviewer, I had absolutely no clue as to the identities of Arthur and George when I began the book. In fact, I had never read Julian Barnes before and I can't tell what prompted me to pick up this book in the first place, let alone take it home and read it. However, the fates often lead me to wonderful surprises and this is one.

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, physician, creator of Sherlock Holmes and spiritualist is well sketched by Barnes. He does an equally good job giving us a great look at George Edlaji, son of a vicar who is Indian and a Scottish mother. Both boys and later young men travel different paths. Arthur of course becomes a doctor and fabulous writer. George becomes a lawyer and is much maligned by his neighbors.

George is convicted on bogus grounds and sent to prison. After his release he desparately wants to pickup his legal career again and contacts Arthur for help. Sir Arthur believes that George could not be guilty and sets off to prove so using his best Holmesian tools.

Since I was not familiar with this story I was held spellbound by Barnes and couldn't wait to pickup the story after each interrution.

As a librarian I read many, many books. Arthur & George will remain with me for many years. Barnes does a masterful job in providing a touching picture of Arthur making him human to me for the first time. He does an equally great job in showing how one person, wrongfully accused and convicted can turn the tables on those who hate him.

A great read.

Having completed the works of many an author chronologically, I have always admired successive maturity amidst those promissory. Julian Barnes is an exception. Each of his novels is an experimentation with the limits to which the definitions of 'fiction' and 'novel' can be stretched. From the uncanny literary critic that he was in 'Flaubert's Parrot', to the ambitious scale of 'A History of the World in 10 1/2 Chapters' - time and again, his works have defied classification and 'Arthur and George' is no exception.

A thoroughly researched, intensely moving and earnestly brilliant novel, Barnes takes us through the distinct early lives of one of the most famous novelist who ever lived and an aspiring young lawyer, whose father is a Parisee; then slowly and eerily brings forth the inexcusable racial prejudices highly prevalent in England those days; intertwines the lives of these two men, and richly illustrates how their lives are permanently altered thereafter.

Barnes is very subtle as he assiduously changes his narrative in each of the four parts of the novels, and is undoubtedly clever in hijacking the reader into the minds of the character. You cannot but sympathise with Edalji (Ay-dl-jee); you will be proud of Sir Arthur, you'll feel sorry for Touie, and understand the position of the lovely Jean. He'll even leave you feel intelligent some times, when the novel takes on the form of one of Holmes' adventure - for example, Sharp initially tells George, 'you're not the right sort', a phrase which is often repeated in the abusive letters (which are authentic, by the way) he receives.

It takes an extraordinary writer to turn a historical account into a novel, where the characters are sculptured with delicate care, that at the end of the intense ride, one finds his novel complete. Except Barnes chose to include the fourth and rather unnecessary part of the novel, which neither informs much about the characters whom we come to love by the end of the third part nor adds much to the strength of the narrative. The reader is bewildered at the irrationality of the distinction that is supposed to exist between the rational and the spiritual - Barnes concludes on neither side, as usual, he is predictably unpredictable in leaving an open question.

Being the extremely readable, lucid historical fiction that it is and having been exquisitely packaged, it certainly demands a wide readership, and certainly deserved its Booker nomination.

Those drawn to the subject of the book -- Sir Arthur Conan Doyle -- should not be misled into thinking this is a Sherlock Holmes crime study. Doyle and crime are central to this intriguing book, but more to the point is a sharply detailed study of Edwardian English life. Two men of very disparate backgrounds and temperments are thrown together by a miscarriage of justice and the attempt to put the matter right. Barnes is outstanding in his look at two middle-class English families and the effect that the series of bewildering crimes has on each. The pleasures are more in the characters and day-to-day life than in any brilliant case investigations.

I'd give this one six ******, if I could!!!

Julian Barnes may have outdone himself this time. This is one of the best novels I have read in a long time. The writing is crisp, and the story is engrossing. I could hardly put it down to sleep, and picked up again as soon as I woke up the next day.

If you have encountered Barnes before, it was probably reading "Flaubert's Parrot," a post-modern novel that contains within it a finely wrought biography of Gustave Flaubert. My personal favorite by Barnes has always been "A History of the World in 10 1/2 Chapters," which I believe places him in the first rank of post-modernist fiction, along with Borges, Calvino, and Lem.

"Arthur and George," a more conventional historical novel, is also close to the spirit of Flaubert's Parrot, being a twin biography of Arthur Conan Doyle and George Edalji, one of the cause celebres that Sir Arthur adopts in mid-career as the extremely successful author of the Sherlock Holmes tales. (I don't think it is necessary to be in any way interested -- as I am not -- in the celebrated author of the Sherlock Holmes tales to enjoy this wonderful book.)

George's incredible story become the lens through which we view Doyle's life and Victorian England. Barnes draws on much published material, including Sir Arthur's ample autobiography, so both histories feel quite authentic. Plus, using Edalji's authentic narrative to elucidate Doyle's life works even better than the device of introducing a fabricated 2nd narrative in "Flaubert's Parrot" involving a fictional stand-in for the author to propell the Flaubert biography.

What an interesting story of the crossroads of these two men, and the intriguing portrait of English society issues-racism, sexism, religions, spiritualism etc. Althougth the lives of these two men and the circumstance under which they were connected were dramatic, the writing style is kind of low key, which I like about the author. However, the pace of the story developement felt a bit too slow for me, and it takes too long for the real story to take off.

Here we have a mostly true tale of late Victorian - early Edwardian England that delves into a real life whodunit, probing racial prejudice and what it means to be an Englishman along the way. The book tackles language like its main character, Arthur, tackles life: like a wrestler with a choke hold. There are chilling scenes of the English "justice" system of the period in action, vignettes of the best of English life and a nod to the popular spiritualist fad of the day.

I found the book adroit and surprising, but above all engrossing. It drew me in and did not let go until the last page.

This fascinating piece of historical fiction documents the intersection of the lives of Arthur Conan Doyle and George Edalji. The author, in alternating passages, relates the stories of each as they grow up. Arthur with his precise mind and daring imagination becomes the renowned author of the Sherlock Holmes stories. George, a shy and unimaginative child of mixed ethnicity, is bullied and abused until he is finally convicted of a crime he did not commit. His case comes to Arthur's attention and gives new life to the man who is grieving over the death of his wife and his inability to commit to the woman he truly loves. They each have a dramatic effect on the other's life and their real-life encounter led to the establishment of the appeals process in the court system.

However, the strength of this book lies in the telling of their individual lives from young boy to the final years. George, in particular, will pull at your heart strings as he struggles with finding his identity in a hostile England. His unusual childhood, his unjust imprisonment, and his fight to reclaim his life as a member of the legal profession will open the reader's mind to the damage racism can do and how lives can be shattered because of bigotry.

Filled with well-researched scenes from the life of the famous Conan Doyle and poignant, heartbreaking moments from the life of the much lesser-known but equally real George Edalji, this book offers a penetrating look at the imperfect world that was 19th century England.

I'd give this one six ******, if I could!!!

Julian Barnes may have outdone himself this time. This is one of the best novels I have read in a long time. The writing is crisp, and the story is engrossing. I could hardly put it down to sleep, and picked up again as soon as I woke up the next day.

If you have encountered Barnes before, it was probably reading "Flaubert's Parrot," a post-modern novel that contains within it a finely wrought biography of Gustave Flaubert. My personal favorite by Barnes has always been "A History of the World in 10 1/2 Chapters," which I believe places him in the first rank of post-modernist fiction, along with Borges, Calvino, and Lem.

"Arthur and George," a more conventional historical novel, is also close to the spirit of Flaubert's Parrot, being a twin biography of Arthur Conan Doyle and George Edalji, one of the cause celebres that Sir Arthur adopts in mid-career as the extremely successful author of the Sherlock Holmes tales. (I don't think it is necessary to be in any way interested -- as I am not -- in the celebrated author of the Sherlock Holmes tales to enjoy this wonderful book.)

George's incredible story become the lens through which we view Doyle's life and Victorian England. Barnes draws on much published material, including Sir Arthur's ample autobiography, so both histories feel quite authentic. Plus, using Edalji's authentic narrative to elucidate Doyle's life works even better than the device of introducing a fabricated 2nd narrative in "Flaubert's Parrot" involving a fictional stand-in for the author to propell the Flaubert biography.

What an interesting story of the crossroads of these two men, and the intriguing portrait of English society issues-racism, sexism, religions, spiritualism etc. Althougth the lives of these two men and the circumstance under which they were connected were dramatic, the writing style is kind of low key, which I like about the author. However, the pace of the story developement felt a bit too slow for me, and it takes too long for the real story to take off.

Here we have a mostly true tale of late Victorian - early Edwardian England that delves into a real life whodunit, probing racial prejudice and what it means to be an Englishman along the way. The book tackles language like its main character, Arthur, tackles life: like a wrestler with a choke hold. There are chilling scenes of the English "justice" system of the period in action, vignettes of the best of English life and a nod to the popular spiritualist fad of the day.

I found the book adroit and surprising, but above all engrossing. It drew me in and did not let go until the last page.

This fascinating piece of historical fiction documents the intersection of the lives of Arthur Conan Doyle and George Edalji. The author, in alternating passages, relates the stories of each as they grow up. Arthur with his precise mind and daring imagination becomes the renowned author of the Sherlock Holmes stories. George, a shy and unimaginative child of mixed ethnicity, is bullied and abused until he is finally convicted of a crime he did not commit. His case comes to Arthur's attention and gives new life to the man who is grieving over the death of his wife and his inability to commit to the woman he truly loves. They each have a dramatic effect on the other's life and their real-life encounter led to the establishment of the appeals process in the court system.

However, the strength of this book lies in the telling of their individual lives from young boy to the final years. George, in particular, will pull at your heart strings as he struggles with finding his identity in a hostile England. His unusual childhood, his unjust imprisonment, and his fight to reclaim his life as a member of the legal profession will open the reader's mind to the damage racism can do and how lives can be shattered because of bigotry.

Filled with well-researched scenes from the life of the famous Conan Doyle and poignant, heartbreaking moments from the life of the much lesser-known but equally real George Edalji, this book offers a penetrating look at the imperfect world that was 19th century England.

This book was highly recommended to me, but I didn't even begin to enjoy it until about halfway through the book, and it lost its grip on me in the last quarter. Somehow the plot is very slow-going and it is excruciating watching George and his family go through hell for page after page after page after... There seem to be at least twice the number of pages that there need to be in this book.

Arthur is a child growning up in England with his mother and siblings. His father, an alcoholic is taken away to an insane asylum. Arthur, in his determination, educates himself, becomes a doctor, and then becomes the famous author of Sherlock Holmes.

George is being raised in a small town by a Vicar and his wife - the Vicar of Indian decent and his mother, Scottish. When Geroge is in his 20s he was framed for the slaughter of numerous farm animals, is convicted and sentenced to a 7 year prison sentence of which he is forced to serve 3. George in particular you will feel for his unjust imprisonment and his fight to clear his name to be reinstated as a member of the legal profession again.

Filled with well-researched scenes from the life of the Arthur Conan Doyle. Well-written, but extremely slow moving in about half of the story and this was the abrided version. I wanted to walk away from the story quite a few times.

This book is based on a true story adds to the interest. The author is no doubt a good writer, but I have to wonder if this could have been a lot shorter but still a good story

Mientras esperamos que llegue a tierras americanas la última novela de Julian Barnes llamada "Nothing to be Frightened of", una excelente manera de comenzar la vigilia es disfrutando de "Arthur & George" (2005) del mismo autor, a quien tuvimos la suerte de tener por nuestras tierras en el verano recién pasado dando claras muestras no sólo de su calidad como escritor, sino sobre todo de su buen humor.

La edición leída es la que nos entrega Anagrama en su Panorama Narrativas con sus habituales aspectos destacados: el clásico y elegante amarillo pálido continente de la obra y la agradable letra y compaginación de los textos y, como contrapartida, su principal y desagradable punto en contra: la excesiva españolización de sus traducciones.

Entrando ya en la historia, nos encontramos a comienzos del siglo veinte en la localidad de Great Wyrley, pueblo rural cercano a la ciudad de Birmingham, Inglaterra. Ahí vive la familia Edalji; Shapurji es el padre y Charlotte, la madre. Él es un parsi que se convirtió al anglicanismo y no sólo se quedó en ello, sino que llegó a ser párroco del pueblo. Ella es escocesa, de Edimburgo. El primogénito es George, un mestizo de color que se siente profundamente inglés y tiene tantos problemas de timidez como de vista. Será abogado. De él trata principalmente la historia. También se hablará de Horace y Maud, hermano y hermana respectivamente.

"Irlandés de ascendencia, escocés de nacimiento, educado en la fe de Roma por jesuitas holandeses, Arthur se convirtió en inglés". Él será médico de la Universidad de Edimburgo; se especializará en oftalmología y se dedicará a escribir. De Arthur (Sir Arthur Conan Doyle) también trata principalmente este libro.

"Arthur & George" es una novela que podríamos llamar jurídica; hay cartas anónimas amenazantes y obscenas por un lado y animales mutilados por el otro; el pueblo se conmueve y alguien tiene que pagar por ello. Así, es gracias a la (in)justicia de una acusación, un juicio y una condena que los destinos de personas tan disímiles convergen. Una víctima y un héroe que tratarán de reestablecer el imperio de lo justo, una justicia que no se hace explícita sólo en un juicio: eso sería lo obvio, lo fácil. El trabajo de Barnes es mostrar la justicia de manera más sutil, desde la forma narrativa, contraponiendo los personajes -una bilateralidad de la audiencia ejemplar diríamos quienes estamos familiarizados al Derecho y las leyes- hasta el cuestionamiento sobre preguntas fundamentales tales como raza y racismo e (in)necesidad de la religión y de una vida más allá de la muerte, planteando respuestas antagónicas para cada una de ellas.

La contraposición, tanto en la forma como en lo sustantivo, se transforma en un antecedente estructural y dinámico de una lectura trepidante. En Arthur todo es explícito, desde el deporte hasta su vida afectiva y, en cambio, en George y su entorno se ve claramente la "Teoría del Iceberg" que Vila-Matas nos enseña en "París no se acaba nunca" hablando de su añorado Hemingway: lo importante, la gran masa de hielo, es lo que no se ve, lo que está bajo el agua. Lo no dicho de George es tanto o más que lo dicho de Arthur, y he ahí uno de los mayores atractivos de esta novela: su capacidad de interpelar al lector constantemente. Más de quinientas páginas para dejar más preguntas que respuestas; una delicia.

Cerrando esta reseña, sólo un par de cosas a modo de comentario. En primer lugar, decir que "Arthur & George" no es sólo una novela, sino también un trabajo de investigación sumamente profesional. La ficción se enlaza con los hechos históricos y ello entrega un ambiente de veracidad a la historia que asombra y además entretiene. En segundo lugar y final, cuesta encontrarle puntos bajos a esta novela que merezcan ser mencionados aquí; espero que este hecho -la regularidad en un alto nivel de esta novela- sea un aliciente para quienes se entusiasmen con la lectura; creo firmemente que será una gran inversión.

This is an engrossing story, masterfully presented in a convincing Victorian tones, with interesting and complex characters. For me, however, it all remained a little distant, a little flat. But those interested in a) Barnes, and/or b) Victoriana should give it a try. I know others who have been far more enthusiastic, and tastes vary.

Excellent read. Complex, insightful, hugely entertaining. You cant cheat with this one - you need to read carefully and dont miss a trick or it may not make much sense later on. I cant imagine how much time and research went into writing a novel like this- it is really several stories all interlocking. Most people focus on the court case and the relationship between Sir Arthur and George but I was equally fasinated with Sir Arthur himself - his life, his 'mistress', his mother, not to mention the Edjali family and the insight into an inter-racial( and religious) marriage in England during Victorian times. All so fascinating and frustrating at the same time. Loved it - should have won the Booker.

An enthralling, vivid, electric read with startling rich and textured dialogue, an incredibly interesting story and a cast of characters to die for.This is Julian Barnes on fine form, in good fettle and on top of his game.

The early parts of the book are incredibly interesting and brilliantly well put together.The quality of the writing- measured, capturing time and place with the finest of judgements and full of extraordinary confidence-is simply stunning and the story races along as the two main characters emerge in full view, warts and all.It is literally unputdownable and Arthur Conan Doyle's energy and volcanic, shyly romantic and old world view of life adds to the rich mix.

I have only two small quibbles.First, it is just a touch too long and needs a bit of pruning.Second, I think the book could have been strengthened by exploring less the spiritualism and more the institutionalise religious view prevalent at that time.

Minor points.

This is, simply put, a magnificent read.

In Arthur and George, Julian Barnes conjures a bygone age and brings it vividly to life. He tells the story of two very different men and their respective quests for truth. In these pages, George Edalji emerges from his customary role as a footnote to the story of Arthur Conan Doyle and becomes a fully-realized human being, fervently loyal to his belief in rational thought and the rule of law. That loyalty is put to the test time and again as his story unfolds. The parallel and ultimately intersecting narrative is of Doyle himself about whom at least two first-rate biographies - one by John Dickson Carr in the forties and another recent volume by Daniel Stashower - have been written. But never has he come more alive than he does in the pages of Barnes's marvelous book. A man of staunch convictions, Doyle is sometimes unwittingly driven to forsake truth, but never his fervently-held moral code. In these pages, Barnes has managed to summon his spirit as no clairvoyant could ever hope to do.

I enjoyed this book. The technique chosen by Julian Barnes seems particularly appropriate: we view forms of justice through the perspective of prejudice while at the same time seeing how adherence to a belief in justice impedes the attainment of it.

Both Arthur and George are very much men of their times and respective classes. Importantly, for the authenticity of the story, this is portrayed without offending more modern equalitarian sensibilities.

Highly recommended.

This book is a riveting mystery and adventure set in late Victorian and early Edwardian Britain. It also sheds light on racial, ethnic, class and gender divides of that time. An added treat is the fictionalized biography of Arthur Conan Doyle, one of the most prominent men of the age.

Arthur is a child of Scottish decent growning up in England with his mother and siblings. His father, deemed a worthless alcoholic, is carted off to an insane asylum never to be seen by his family again. Arthur, with his intelligence and determination, educates himself, becomes a doctor, and then becomes the world famous author and creator of Sherlock Holmes.

Meanwhile, George is being raised in a small town by a Vicar and his wife - the Vicar of Indian decent and his mother, Scottish. George grows up a sheltered naive boy without many friends. But somehow he seems to have enemies because when he is in his 20s he is framed for the slaughter of numerous farm animals, is convicted, and sentenced to a 7 year prison sentence of which he is forced to serve 3.

George and Arthur become the most unlikely of aquaintances when George seeks Arthur out to attempt to clear his name. Arthur takes on the cause and begins his own investigation - the type to make Holmes proud. Through this strange friendship a supportive relationship emerges. All the while we learn more details of each's family and relationships with others. The two could not be more different but forge a friendship based on odd similarities.

This novel starts out wonderfully. Each section is told from the viewpoint of either George or Author, switching back and forth. I am a particular fan of this style of storytelling, and for about the first third to half of the book it worked well. As you were reading about one, you were eager to get back to the story of the next - the story intrigued you enough to keep going to find out what would happen next. Then the author told a few chapters from the perspective of other characters - only a few times - that seemed out of place and random. These points of view appeared and then disappeared as quickly. It interrupted the rhythm of the story.

About halfway through the novel the story itself fell apart. The chapters got longer and longer and more self indulgent. They became the self righteous rantings of each character lamenting and whining about his own individual predicament. The characters ceased being sympathetic and instead were annoying. By the end it didn't matter what happened, only that it came to an end.

What started out as very well written resulted in a huge disappointment. It averages out to...average.

As with all Julian Barnes's novels, the writing is crisp, intelligent and beautifully paced. Also present is Barnes's particular fondness for looking at real life texts and putting a fictional squint on them to convey a fascinating story or set of ideas. However, whereas in books such as Flaubert's Parrot and A History of the World in 10 1/2 Chapters approach the past from oblique angles - a biography of Flaubert created from quirky fragments of the man's life, history recreated from a woodworm's viewpoint - Arthur and George displays none of this creative quirkiness. What you get is a plodding, carefully told detective story about a young Parsee man, George Edalji, who is wrongly accused of a series of animal mutilations in a sleepy Staffordshire village. Arthur Conan Doyle, the world famous author of the Sherlock Holmes stories, hears of his case and rushes in to ensure justice is done. The novel is padded out with nice but ultimately boring vignettes into the life of Arthur Conan Doyle and George Edalji. Barnes has obviously done extensive research into the life of Conan Doyle and the Great Wyrley outrages, but loving and painstaking hours spent creating what you feel is a convincing portrayal of a real life character does not guarantee that you are producing a figure of great fictional merit. There are long digressions into Conan Doyle's anxieties with his mistress Jean Touie and his growing love of the occult, adn long streams of dialogue that serve merely structural, not dramatic effect. It is not one of Barnes's greatest efforts. It was raptuously received by the critics in Britain, and made the Booker Prize shortlist but it failed to impress the judges. For really original and stylistically dazzling fiction, I would look elsewhere.