‘The Echo Chamber’ by John Boyne — a dark comedy that sits uncomfortably between fiction and reality
*spoiler-free*
As a rule, before writing my own review I do not read any others. It was particularly difficult to resist that temptation in the case of ‘The Echo Chamber’ — this is the kind of book that is likely to polarise readers, angering the painfully ‘woke’ and pandering to those who, like one of the main characters of the book, claim to be socially liberal but fiscally conservative.
‘The Echo Chamber’ falls somewhere between fiction, satire and social commentary, and in that way is different to anything I have read before.
The book follows the Cleverley family, with the patriarch and matriarch being a beloved BBC presenter and a popular author respectively, and their three grown children each suffering from an unfortunate but hereditary cocktail of narcissism, entitlement and disconnectedness from reality. Despite that, Boyne manages to write the story in such a way that none of the family members are true villains — at worst they are foolish and at best they are well-meaning but misguided. The Cleverleys, and their motley crew of supporting cast members, are caricatures. They could never exist as real characters — which may be why we do not care enough about them to dislike them, even though their actions would certainty justify it. 'The Echo Chamber' follows the five family members as they navigate separate but interconnected (in ways that force the reader to suspend their belief) online experiences.
The writing is sharp and quick, with almost every conversation peppered with sly digs and cutting ripostes:
‘He’s not a moron! He’s a humanitarian!’
‘Of course he is, dear,’ said Beverley. ‘But you might want to tell the humanitarian that there are plenty of Fairtade deodorants on the market if he’d like to give one a try.’
Fans of Boyne will notice the clever Easter egg allusions to Maud Avery in this book, a character who features in 'The Heart’s Invisible Furies’. A renowned author in that book, Avery’s work is referred to on multiple occasions in 'The Echo Chamber’.
True to its theme, 'The Echo Chamber' is also filled to the brim with pop culture references. Many of these are incorporated seamlessly and make the book’s youthfulness clear (for instance by mentioning TikTok and the recent lockdowns). However, as the book goes on, it does feel at times as though Boyne is moulding the narrative around the jibes he wants to make rather than the other way around. In this way, some of the writing is reminiscent of someone trying to do their best with a bad hand in a game of 'Cards Against Humanity’:
…if she didn’t come here twice a month, her feet would end up looking as if they’d been stitched together by someone who didn’t even have the slightest understanding of his craft, like Brooklyn Beckham with his photography book.
Through the characters’ interactions with the internet and social media, Boyne highlights the absurdity and the hypocrisy of those who profess to have the best interests of others at heart but, in reality, are first in line to demonise anyone unfortunate or unwitting enough to err in judgement. We see George Cleverley frustrated with the power given to the online community, to act as judge and jury in condemning others to a life of being ‘cancelled’:
‘Bullies, that’s all they are. You realize that, don’t you? All these brave little souls sitting behind their keyboards, spitting out their venom.’
As the book delves even further into cancel culture and the ‘PC gone mad’ undertones come to the fore, it begins to feel a little too real and I have vague recollections of hearing of John Boyne being implicated in Twitter rows. It transpires that Boyne was previously the target of criticism by the transgender community in connection with his 2019 young adult book, ‘My Brother’s Name is Jessica’, for, amongst other things, misgendering and dead-naming the main character and perpetuating stereotypes connected with trans people. Boyne objected to the criticism, although he did eventually (and slightly reluctantly) apologise.
Being aware of this real life background and given his eventual apology, the book takes on a tinge of bitterness and even disrespect towards the trans community (one of the main characters in this book misgenders a trans woman and a Twitter storm ensues, the basis of which is aggressively disputed by the character in question).
While many readers would likely agree that cancel culture is as toxic of the actions of those cancelled by it, there is a middle ground to be found where those of opposing views can coexist and learn from one another.
'The Echo Chamber' is incisive, using humour to highlight some of the most nonsensical and dangerous aspects of social media in today’s world; it may have been a cautionary tale were the characters less outrageous and the circumstances more realistic. Towards the latter end of the book, however, it does begin to feel like the contempt of certain characters towards keyboard warriors and cancel culture is fuelled by the author’s own personal agenda. At times, it is difficult to know where the Cleverleys end and where John Boyne begins.
That said, I couldn’t but recommend ‘The Echo Chamber’. At its core, it is funny, engaging and, at times, savage.
Now, time to read the other reviews…
Next up: Clap When You Land by Elizabeth Acavedo
