‘Sometimes I used to think Mum, Dad and the doctors were making plans to take me somewhere, like Wembley to meet the England team. Or Disneyland. Ha! It’s always Disneyland.’ (p 150)
Much more than it appears to be
Let’s say it straight from the start. This is not simply a story about children trapped underground in a disused mine, even though that is the main thing that happens in it (and compellingly dramatic it is too).It is a story about about loss and bereavement. Centrally, it is about one boy’s struggle to cope with the death through illness of his younger brother. This does not mean it is a morbid or depressing book, quite the reverse; it is ultimately a comforting, a reassuring one. It is tender, often touching and richly sensitive. Although it is completely engaging, sometimes amusing and even entertaining, it speaks about real lives, real children, real issues, and speaks with understanding and compassion. Overall, it is a very fine book indeed.
Both in the later twentieth century and more recently, there have been a number of wonderful children’s books dealing with death and bereavement. (See my review of The Lovely Dark by Matthew Fox from July ‘23.) It may well be a very sad subject, but it is something many will have to face at some stage of childhood, perhaps the loss of a grandparent, or another family member, relative or friend. The loss of pets can be very troubling for some children too. Books like these offer much. Some readers will be able to identify with characters and feelings they find there, whilst others will benefit greatly through empathy and deeper understanding. And now, with All The Way Down, Stuart Foster has added another outstanding title to this important area of children’s fiction.
The D-word
In his story, eleven-year-old Milo has been emotionally thrown by the death of his younger sibling. He frequently continues to talk to Luke in his own head, often to the exclusion of the ongoing world around him. He hears Luke’s voice clearly, holds frequent conversations with him, and even makes up stories which he reads aloud to Luke at night. In his own way he is keeping Luke alive for himself, shutting out, denying, what he calls ‘the D-word’.
‘Is that how people saw me, an expert on death? I wasn’t that. I was as expert on life. Luke’s life. In the year since he’d gone, I’d never put his name in the same sentence as the D-word. And I never would.’ (p 153)
Milo has been sent to a week-long adventure camp, which is also set up with staff trained to help disturbed children deal with a variety of ‘stuff’. Two of his fellow campers, Oscar and Effie, begin to figure largely as potential friends (maybe!), but each have their own issues too. Stewart Foster’ writing has that superficially straightforward style that actually requires considerable skill. He develops these strongly individual characters with both immediacy and a sense of truth. Clearly he really understands troubled kids, their thinking and their behaviours. Their banter feels completely credible. His evolving narrative sensitively exposes and explores their insecurities at the same time as it develops their relationships in ways that feel completely authentic. It can be by turns funny, troubling and touching - and sometimes all three together.
Heroes?
Yet this masterful writer adds another layer to his intriguing story right from the beginning. In a scene that happens a couple of months later than the camp, Milo and Oscar have been brought to a very large scale, televised ceremony of ‘Awards for Hero’s’. This double layer to the narrative adds extra interest and anticipation, initially raising questions as to why the boys are hero’s, if indeed they are. However Milo is continually distressed by the the fact that Effie, who he believes should be with them, is missing. This drops a heavy stone of misgiving, even dread, into the reader’s stomach, which only grows as the story progresses and we get to gradually discover more of the relationship between the Milo, Effie and Oscar and what precipitated its intensity.
Events at the camp turn very dramatic indeed when, during a visit as one of their activities,the three children (together, of course, with the Luke inside Milo’s head) become trapped in a disused tin mine. This might seem rather extreme, almost melodramatic development. However, actual events in Thailand, in 2018, where the boys of a junior football team were trapped underground, remind us that this can really happen. It may be unlikely, but it is possible. And the reactions of the children, their terror, their blind panic, their desperation feel very real indeed.
Deep down inside
The experiences, the evolving thoughts and feelings of Milo, Effie and Oscar are rendered with real insight and conviction. Much of their conversations are what you imagine they would be in the horrendous situation, trivial matters, talk for the sake of talking, to pass the time and to keep up each others spirits. But in with this are much more interactions, for Milo and for the others. The combination of dire circumstance and the underlying genuine concern of his friends leads Milo gradually to talk about Luke, to ‘read aloud’ the stories he wrote for him and, in effect, to bring him out from his head.
Again the interleaved ‘Awards for Heroes’ strand of the narrative allows another dimension, this time giving an outside perspective from the rescuers and desperate relatives. It is all most cleverly worked. Without, I hope, giving away too much about how the story ends for Milo and his friends, parents, carers and teachers may need to know that it is supportive and reassuring, without being sentimentality unrealistic.
It is a skilfully written, wonderful and important novel that will engage fully but also help enormously to develop understanding and empathy. Its characters and their issues ring very true. It has its lighter moments and is a thoroughly accessible read, but it is nevertheless a richly serious novel, dramatic but also tender
Just saying.