The Bounce, by Betsy Tobin

The love and loss of a lion-tamer

Rebecca Loncraine
Friday 11 October 2002 00:00 BST
Comments

Your support helps us to tell the story

From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.

At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.

The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.

Your support makes all the difference.

The big top has proved to be a popular venue for many writers. Djuna Barnes and Angela Carter both used the circus – with its compelling mix of tawdriness and glamour, nomadic lifestyle and tightly knit community – to explore personality as performance and the idea of "home".

Now Betsy Tobin has set her beautifully written second novel in a 19th-century London circus. In a backwards movement from the New World to Old, 19-year-old Nathan sails to England from America in search of his mother, a performer who abandoned him as a child. He gets work as an apprentice lion-tamer at the circus, now managed by his mother. The novel charts Nathan's attempts to get to know her and to understand why she left him.

Nathan's performing lions, Queen and Nero, are given human voices. The novel is written with the contemporary horror of the caged lion: Queen's imprisoned life leads her to kill her cub. This becomes a rather ham-fisted analogy for Nathan's relations with his mother. Tobin tends to overstate her point, and often leaves readers little room to make connections for themselves. However, relations between the lions and their tamer are very cleverly made into symbols for power-relations within families.

The novel moves dextrously back and forth between reflections on Nathan's circus life and his past. The story also focuses on Lulu, a transvestite trapeze artist, and Nan, who sells refreshments. Both characters mirror Nathan's troubled life with their own chequered histories. The novel catches them at a moment when their lives have reached a state of suspended animation, able to reflect upon their past but not to emerge from it.

Nathan, Nan and Lulu are isolated inside their heads. Their lack of interaction means that the story becomes stilted at times. It slumps halfway through, becoming as stagnant as the River Thames so evocatively described by Tobin.

Lulu is an intriguing character, and Tobin should have made more of him. She describes Lulu's cross-dressing in brilliant detail, asserting that the "French call it trompe l'oeil, but Lulu likes to think of it as his camouflage". His visits to a transvestite gentlemen's club are particularly enjoyable and provide a social context the novel otherwise lacks.

Tobin brings Nathan's life to some kind of resolution by setting the circus alight and engulfing both Nathan's mother and Queen in a strangely healing ball of fire. This is satisfying, especially as the starkness of this ending is troubled by Nathan's assertion that "he cannot afford to break with his own history, but neither can he covet it".

Join our commenting forum

Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies

Comments

Thank you for registering

Please refresh the page or navigate to another page on the site to be automatically logged inPlease refresh your browser to be logged in