The Report: A Novel

The tragedy does not remain the story. As with any other public property, it is transformed by use. What you want is a loved one, child, friend, to be found, safe, alive. That’s not possible now. A few days earlier you have accepted an apology from the government, or an explanation of what happened, or a promise that it would never happen again. But none of these things came about, and now you want someone humiliated, forced to resign. You want someone to admit responsibility, someone to hold accountable. Desperate for these things, grief hot in your blood, you stand on a cold curb in front of town hall, chanting with the others who are there everyday, “The light, the light,” because to the crowd, the light is at the heart of the matter, the accident, the disaster, the catastrophe, what ever today’s papers are calling it. The event that ended the lives they had and gave them new ones, they never wanted and never will. All their misery, all their unmitigated despair at what their lives have become, reduced to two words. (p. 73)

On a March evening, London 1943, the air raid warning signal went off and people began moving toward shelter. In Bethnal Green, a poor section of town, the people went to the tube station which had been fashioned into a large shelter featuring a commissary, bunks that could be reserved, first aid stations etc. – a shelter large enough for six thousand men, women, and children. On that evening, something went wrong at the one narrow entrance to the shelter and 173 people lost their lives. Ironically not a single bomb fell in London that night.

The Report: A Novel by Jessica Francis Kane is about that aftermath of that disaster. The people demanded answers so the government commissioned a report of the incident. The inquiry was led by a local magistrate who, in a very short amount of time, held hearings and wrote a report. While the hearings for the report are at the center of the book, this novel also goes into the nature of the crowd, the fine lines between responsibility and blame, and what happens to both individuals and a community in the aftermath of a disaster. How do you recover, how do you make amends? How do you “make sense of a pointless tragedy?” What is the difference, if any, between and an accident and a mistake? These are just some of the questions Kane wrestles with in this slim novel.

Kane also uses the novel to pay tribute to the people of Bethnal Green, poor and struggling under bombardment, death, rationing, economically and psychologically stressed, Kane treats these people with dignity and grace. In an easy to read, captivating manner (although it seems strange to use that word when discussing the deaths of so many people), Kane outlines the scope of the disaster using almost insubstantial details and compelling portraits which adds such a layer of humanity to an epic event, as Laurie, the magistrate, struggles with the writing of the report. Skipping back and forth from 1943 and 1973 where a young filmmaker (with his own ties to the event) interviews Laurie, Kane capably brings the reader into the heart of wartime London while giving the kind of perspective only time and remembrance can bring.

In real life, the Government suppressed the report for several years and the event is fairly unknown. A plaque is in place at the tube station and a group is currently raising funds for a more substantial memorial. On March 3^rd, 1943, one hundred and seventy three people died, orphans were left behind, families were torn apart – with Kane’s well crafted words – may they be never forgotten.

As an added bonus, Largehearted Boy has an interview with the author about a playlist that relates in some way the work she has written here.

Advertisement