Brodie Crellin's debut novel, A Sense of Occasion, is a surprising and darkly funny exploration of a dysfunctional family coming together for a funeral. The novel, praised for its heartfelt and keenly observed portrayal, delves into the lives of three maladjusted individuals grappling with death and their complex relationships.
A Family Beyond Conventional Definitions
The story centers on Patch, a friendless and anxious woman who bursts into tears at the memory of the postman's suicide; her father Robin, who is "gay, yes, mostly, but mutable"; and her cousin Jude, a domineering playwright who "loves to make an entrance." They are bound by the recently deceased Mary—Robin's ex, Patch's mother, and Jude's aunt—a woman who "[didn't] have a problem with gay men" but was lukewarm on lesbians.
Orbiting this "isosceles," as Jude calls it, are Juliette, Jude's gleefully moneyed mother, and Mel, Mary's neighbor. Various other characters swing in and out, all fully realized no matter how brief their appearances, including Mary's poor, forgotten "empath" labrador, Leonard.
A Collision of Past and Present
As Jude cruises in from Naples, the stage is set for a fraught collision of past and present. As the funeral draws closer and tensions simmer, Crellin juggles the minutiae of death—chopping vegetables, arranging memorial photos—with fragmented recollections of messy family history.
The novel skips in and out of multiple points of view while keeping the different styles of narration intact. Thanks to Crellin's light touch, especially in the arch, zippy dialogue, the regular flashbacks feel remarkably natural. There are shades of classic mid-century stories, particularly Dorothy Baker's Cassandra at the Wedding, and some of the caustic social wit of Edward St Aubyn's Melrose chronicles, but the boldness feels entirely modern.
Sex, Class, and Tenderness
The book also understands sex well, conveying its importance as a vehicle for each character's foibles and desires, and as a shadowy place where so much can be manipulated and communicated. It summons a kaleidoscope of erotic experience across the spectrum, sometimes hot and sometimes ridiculous, including a quasi-incestuous relationship rendered with nuance and consideration.
If the novel leans a little hard on Jude and her mother for its class critiques, it's easily forgiven on account of just how much fun it is to watch these characters crash into each other, and for the deftly nasty one-liners they toss out. "Patch lacked the confidence conferred by a private education," Jude thinks smugly. "But she could also say that Patch was simply less intelligent."
Yet the story never veers into mean-spirited satire, largely thanks to Patch herself, the grief-stricken daughter who is the heartbeat of the novel. Perennially misunderstood and underestimated, Patch is awkward but raw, a keen observer of herself and others. There is immense pleasure and vitality—and ultimately a great deal of tenderness—in A Sense of Occasion's depiction of flawed, strange people who love badly and can't help but get in the way of themselves over and over again.
