In many ways I ought to have been the target market for Ordinary People; set in London, people grappling with midlife challenges (and parenting), and a soundtrack featuring the likes of John Legend (to whom the book owes its title). However, I found myself disappointed with Ordinary People, so much so that it returned to the charity shop. As a minor quibble, the work was poorly edited, with one of the main characters (Melissa) having her name spelled wrong on occasions, and “brooch” being confused with “broach”. More broadly, I felt Evans failed simply by being overambitious. I wondered — objectively — whether any novel about black Londoners can ever escape being conscious of its race context. White people are not defined by their skin colour, but to suggest that black people (often) are perhaps, just speaks precisely to the problems of racism, or just simple “colour blindness”. Beyond commentary on race, Evans takes on feminist theory, and also the supernatural/incipient madness (perhaps the mental disintegration in The Bell Jar). More broadly, like in de Botton's The Course of Love, I found myself simply failing to relate to the characters — not a function of race; simply that their relationship experience did not come close to according with mine. For a much better and truer depiction of the diverse tapestry of London, consider works such as John Lanchester's Capital or Blake Morrison's South of the River. 4/10.
By Diana Evans