Those who have enjoyed Benjamin Myers’s Goldsmiths Prize-decorated novel Cuddy could be perplexed to find that the follow-up, Rare Singles, offers a much more mainstream narrative. Unlike the critically revered Cuddy, which thrived on a millennia-spanning experimental narrative style, Rare Singles instead unfolds in a single week, taking place in the seaside town of Scarborough.
In an unexpected turn, Dinah, a Northern Soul music enthusiast, finds the former soul singer from Chicago, Bucky, and convinces him to perform for the first time in half a century, despite him being wrestled by his past and dealing with painkiller addiction. Myers effectively draws parallels between Bucky’s story and the fallen glory of the seaside town, showcasing his adept storytelling skills with an affectionate nod to the past.
While Bucky’s warm-hearted personality evokes empathy, there are moments of discomfort where his character veers into cartoonish territory. And Myers’s propensity to switch point of views unexpectedly, particularly when oscillating between Bucky’s internal thoughts and an expansive, sometimes verbose narrator, does not support the narrative.
His overly complex metaphors can at times obscure rather than clarify, disrupting the flow of the story, such as when he likens Bucky’s weariness to ‘stone-made chandeliers hanging from his eyelids’. Moreover, the insistent descriptions of Bucky’s pain and his drug withdrawal come across as repeating an already delivered message.
However, where the novel triumphs is in paying homage to the healing capability of music. Essentially, it’s a serenade to love songs. The somewhat clichéd ending, in its predictability, contrasts with the tenor of the book. A less romantically idealised conclusion would have added depth to this later-life love story. Nonetheless, for those who relish a love narrative with a stellar playlist alongside, this sentimental journey to Scarborough should appeal. The book feels like a fusion of a David Nicholls novel and a Nick Hornby book.