It’s a Woman Thing
This novel is about female friendships. It presents a world through a female perspective. Imagery in small doses collectively adds to this perceptual foundation. “What to wear for the lunch? She wanted to look professional, but not Hillary Clinton–formidable. Attractive, but not Kim Kardashian slutty. Amal Clooney got it right – warm and sophisticated. But while they might be a similar height, Amal weighed half as much as Boo and had a billion times her budget.” The imagery here is directly related to perception, most of it quite revealing. For instance, apparently the distaste many American women feel toward Hillary Clinton running for president is mirrored by some British women as well. The imagery also highlights that no matter how much money you might earn and no matter how famous you can get for doing nothing, some women will still have their finger on the slut-shaming trigger ready to pull at a moment’s notice. And, of course, despite all the talk about how size no longer matters when it comes to female attractiveness, it is still preferable to be the half whatever size you currently may be.
Regret
Regret can wash over a person in multiple forms of imagery. Especially when the regret is stimulated by the recollection of the place where the act that is regretted took place. “The first prick of repulsion had come when he pushed his key card into the slot and the lights came on. His room was a clone of hers. Same forest wallpaper, orange headboard, gray flecked carpet. Overheated and stuffy, with windows you couldn’t open. Oversized wall-mounted TV screening hotel info. Overdressed bed – bolsters, shams, drapes and coverlets.” In recollecting the details of her initial foray into the world of extra-marital sexuality, repulsion has replaced excitement and the object of her revulsion is not the sex itself, but the setting. The imaginative exoticism of the imagery Boo fantasized about in her head while lying in bed next to her husband is now forever replaced by the incongruent decor of her memories. This imagery of what was supposed to be an escape from the monotony of reality is a disappointing portrait of uniformity where the technology is utilitarian rather than erotic and repetition of identical décor subtly hints at their illicit tryst being just the latest in an endless recurrence where only the names on the guest register change.
Didier’s Big Idea
Boo is complaining to Ronke about the idea that her husband is pushing. He is pushing a move to the suburbs as something that would be ideal for their young daughter. Boo’s interpretation is couched in a code that suggest something different. “Anyway, it’s Didier’s big idea. Sell. Move out of London. Bigger garden, better schools, a dog, a Volvo estate. He wants us to be middle-class, middle-aged, welly-wearing bores, listening to Radio Four and moaning about the commute.” For American readers, this may not even seem like imagery. For British readers, it is not-so-secret that implies a number of things about Didier. The phrase “better schools” means the same thing in both countries, of course: whiter schools. The “bigger garden” means more elbow room while “welly-wearing” refers to rain boots to protect from mud. Together, they mean a house far away from the concrete jungle of the inner city which also means a significantly less diverse economic spectrum of neighbors. Complaints about the commute means living far enough away from the city that the poor can’t afford it and Radio Four means listening to talk shows instead of the cacophony of diverse musical tastes thumping against the wall next door. In other words, Didier wants to take his half-Nigerian wife and their daughter and engage in white flight.
Isobel
Isobel is the new girl in the group, and she is trouble. The question, however, is the reason for why she is trouble. The very first description of her arrives in the form of imagery specifically filtered through the perception of Ronke. “She spotted Simi deep in conversation with a striking woman and felt a spike of irritation. The stranger had long toned limbs and glossy brown skin; she looked almost sculpted…She didn’t know anyone who showed side-boob at lunch. Or had such an over-the-top blonde weave.” Isobel is trouble because she represents the introduction of an unknown element in a system that is already running on autopilot. Isobel personifies the fragility of social cohesion which can be pulled apart at the seams simply by ignoring the unwritten but universally recognized rules of maintaining the social order. Ronke’s perceptual imagery immediately focuses attention on this violation with her instant emotional reaction being irritation. The word “stranger” purposely connotes a sinister quality to her presence that isn’t actually appropriate. And the petty remarks about “side-boob” and Isobel’s hair all contribute to immediately implicating Isobel as trouble because she has violated the rules of his network of friends that may not be written but are quite clearly rigidly observed.
