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The Secret Diaries of Charles Ignatius Sancho: Abolitionist’s life reimagined

Actor Paterson Joseph has turned his hand to writing with a debut novel in epistolary form

Paterson Joseph: his novel The Secret Diaries of Charles Ignatius Sancho won the 2023 Christopher Bland Prize. Photograph: David Levenson/Getty Images
Paterson Joseph: his novel The Secret Diaries of Charles Ignatius Sancho won the 2023 Christopher Bland Prize. Photograph: David Levenson/Getty Images
The Secret Diaries of Charles Ignatius Sancho
Author: Paterson Joseph
ISBN-13: 978-0349702377
Publisher: Dialogue Books
Guideline Price: £9.99

Charles Ignatius Sancho, a black abolitionist living in London in the 1700s, would, I thought, be a fascinating subject. And although I might, ordinarily, shudder to hear that yet another actor has turned their hand to writing, I think a person would be hard pressed not to admire the work of Paterson Joseph. Surely then, along with the hyperbolic cover quotes from Malorie Blackman and Stephen Fry (“Phenomenal!” “An absolutely thrilling, throat-catching wonder!”) and the fact that it won the 2023 Christopher Bland Prize, this book must prove a sure thing.

Alas, no such luck – it was a slog. Not due to any difficulty (if anything, it suffers from over-simplification throughout) but sheer dullness. It is written in Sancho’s voice, in an extended epistolary form intermingled with diary entries, to his son, Billy. This might make the lack of complexity or believable characterisation a stylistic choice but, if so, it’s a misfire.

Another issue was the overwhelming pomposity of the language (presumably based on Sancho’s letters, published in 1782). At one point Sancho declares his intention to emulate the style of his new pal, Laurence Sterne. But while rambling with seeming aimlessness is made into a wonderfully entertaining, self-aware art form in Tristram Shandy (form being, therein, the whole kit and kaboodle) here, in less capable hands, it results in Sancho repeatedly taking three pages to say what ought to take a line or two.

Conversely, the period of Sancho’s life that readers would be most interested in – that of his time as an active abolitionist – is written in a rush at the end. In a book of more than 400 pages, I would have liked if his ability to vote was given more than the last 10.

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In the author’s note (which has to be the single worst development in modern publishing, presumably conceived by nervous editors who have less and less faith in the ability of their readers to understand what a novel is, without unequivocal explication), Joseph writes: “I won’t apologise for seeking to entertain ... I want to tell a story that will enlighten, but more essentially, delight you. I hope you will smile, laugh, rage and cry.” Unfortunately, I was almost driven to tears, but not for the reasons intended.