Question: When is a plot not a plot? Answer: When the author decides to hijack historical fact and harness it with a sack of ideas, red herrings and jokes; self-regarding academics and generous helpings of darker intent. The high-profile British critic and commentator Professor Malcolm Bradbury's first novel in eight years is of interest because, despite the time gap, he has never been very far from our thoughts - or at least, our newpapers and TV screens. The arrival of his new novel is less a cause of celebration and more a case of "here we go again".
And we do. Clambering abroad the Bradbury campus bandwagon of gags and tricks and intelligent asides, it is difficult to ignore his belief in liberal humanism as well as his understanding of his society, largely because it tends to hit the reader right between the eyes. Author of Eating People is Wrong (1959), Stepping Westward (1966), The History Man (1975), the Booker short-listed Rates of Exchange (1983) and Doctor Criminale (1992), he always establishes an atmosphere of convivial complicity in which the reader is invited to attend a seminar - as Bradbury never attempts to invoke the Gods of High Art, his fiction is not far removed from anecdotal conversation.
Early in this new book the narrator is called upon to deliver a conference paper which he has not written. He resourcefully launches into a lively version of having attended Lawrence Sterne's funeral, which had been delayed by some 200 years due to the absence of a corpse. His performance seems a real crowd-pleaser but he is dismissed as having offered "nothing more than a story". Bradbury is certainly on the side of story.
To the Hermitage is as English as is Michael Frayn's over-praised Booker runner-up Headlong. Both are over-long, both are funny, both are engagingly, rather than smugly, clever, both demonstrate a flair for research. Bradbury's is better, however, as while his alter ego writer and academic narrator is likeable and entertainingly human the fascinating central character is none other than the Enlightenment hero Denis Diderot (1713-1784), editor of the Encyclopedie and one of the founding fathers of the modern novel.
Admittedly it is the facts of the philosopher's life which make him so interesting - characterisation has never been Bradbury's strong point. His novels have always been populated by cartoon variations of his stock creature, the self-regarding academic ever on the make. If this book succeeds it is due to its pace: the action races along so fast that it is possible to overlook the artifice, the corny dialogue, the predictablity and the thinness of what is a fat book. Also ever to the rescue is the comic tone, which is consistently disciplined, suggesting that Bradbury is well aware that the thinner the farce, the greater the chances of running out of steam.
Running in tandem with the narrator's latest odyssey - a jaunt to Stockholm and on to St Petersburg courtesy of yet another wacky academic conference - is a chattily detailed account of Diderot's journey to Russia to visit Catherine the Great. The narrator is drawn by an interest in Diderot, Voltaire, history and books; he is the only one of the conference party to visit the archive library in the company of the Francophile Galina, who has devoted her life to the St Petersburg library. At no time during the historical passages does Bradbury attempt period pastiche, while the quickfire dialogues between Diderot and Catherine the Great are implausible and forgettable.
Mortality is increasingly a Bradbury theme: death stalks the narrative and just as the narrator can't locate the grave of Descartes, no one seems sure of where Diderot lies either. Though not as inventive as is claimed, To the Hermitage has its attractions, not least Diderot, the hyperactive scribbler writing to the end. Ultimately it is a rambling, if lively, narrative of musings and sketches: Bradbury does fear for culture, ever at the mercy of thieves selling off stolen rare books and precious paintings. Still, humour and a fairly consistent lightness of touch ensure that the professor makes his several points while - most importantly, teacher that he is - encouraging a timely return to the work and vision of the great French thinker.
Eileen Battersby is a critic and Irish Times journalist
