Review of Caledonian Road by O'Hagan (2024)

Andrew O’Hagan, a Scottish novelist, and journalist born in Glasgow in 1968, has carved a reputation with works like Mayflies and his editorship at the London Review of Books. His 2024 novel, Caledonian Road, published by Faber, is a sprawling, Dickensian epic set-in post-Brexit, post-pandemic London. Shortlisted for the Orwell Prize for political fiction, it follows Campbell Flynn, an art historian entangled in a web of corruption and social upheaval along the titular North London Street. The novel’s thesis argues that modern society, underpinned by privilege and inequality, is unraveling, exposing the interconnectedness of its flaws:

“The world was changing, and Campbell Flynn was not ready” (O’Hagan, 2024, p. 12). This serves as a wake-up call, revealing the ground reality of a city and its people teetering on the edge. For Indian readers, the book’s dissection of class, power, and identity resonates with navigating societal pressures and systemic divides. O’Hagan’s vivid prose, like a friend sharing a gripping tale over chai, makes this a must-read for those seeking to understand modern urban complexities.

Caledonian Road spans May 2021 to early 2022, capturing London’s pulse through a cast of nearly 60 characters, prefaced by a handy dramatis personae. Centered on Campbell Flynn, a 52-year-old academic and celebrity intellectual, the novel explores themes of privilege, corruption, and societal fracture against the backdrop of Brexit, the waning COVID-19 pandemic, and Russia’s invasion of Ukraine. Blending satire, social realism, and journalistic insight, it portrays a city where wealth and deprivation collide.

Campbell, a Glaswegian who rose from humble roots, lives a charmed life: “Tall and sharp at fifty-two, Campbell Flynn was a tinderbox in a Savile Row suit” (O’Hagan, 2024, p. 3). His bestselling book on Vermeer and podcast fame mask financial woes: “He was in debt, but nobody knew” (p. 15). To recover, he writes a self-help book, Why Men Weep in Their Cars, under a pseudonym: “He’d hide behind an actor to protect his name” (p. 20). His student, Milo Mangasha, half-Ethiopian and half-Irish, challenges his worldview: “Milo’s ideas were a shock to Campbell’s system” (p. 35).

The novel’s setting, Caledonian Road, is a microcosm of London’s divides: “Cally was a street of opulence and deprivation” (p. 45). Campbell’s basement tenant, Mrs. Voyles, embodies pre-gentrified Islington: “Mrs. Voyles was a relic, bitter and unyielding” (p. 50). His wife, Elizabeth, a therapist, navigates privilege: “Elizabeth saw through the facades of the elite” (p. 65). Their daughter, Anna, resists conformity: “Anna wanted to burn the system down” (p. 70).

Corruption weaves through the narrative. Campbell’s friend, Sir William, faces a scandal: “William’s empire was crumbling under accusations” (p. 85). Russian oligarch Yuri Bykov and his son symbolize dirty money: “Yuri could asset-strip in fifteen languages” (p. 100). Milo, a hacker, exposes Campbell’s ties: “Milo’s code broke open Campbell’s secrets” (p. 120). The novel critiques media and politics: “Tabloids fed on outrage, not truth” (p. 130).

Human trafficking and gang culture surface through Milo’s friends, drill rappers like Big Pharma: “The streets were a battlefield for the young” (p. 150). Zak Byre, a developer’s son and activist, bridges worlds: “Zak lived between a £7m flat and rebellion” (p. 165). The narrative shifts perspectives, capturing Polish immigrant Cecylia Krupa’s faith: “Cecylia prayed for a better England” (p. 180).

O’Hagan addresses systemic inequality: “Money led from mortgages to oligarchs” (p. 200). Campbell’s unraveling reflects societal decay: “He was lost in the sprawling web of it all” (p. 215). Solutions lie in connection and accountability: “Truth was the only way out” (p. 230). The novel ends ambiguously, with hope amidst chaos: “London endured, broken but alive” (p. 300). It challenges readers to confront privilege: “Only disconnect, Campbell thought, to survive” (p. 305).

The novel’s greatest strength is its panoramic scope, capturing London’s messy diversity with vivid prose: “Cally was a street of opulence and deprivation” (O’Hagan, 2024, p. 45). O’Hagan’s journalistic eye, honed at the London Review of Books, grounds the satire: “Tabloids fed on outrage, not truth” (p. 130). For Indian readers, this mirrors urban divides in cities like Mumbai or Delhi.

The character ensemble is a triumph, from Campbell’s privilege to Milo’s radicalism: “Milo’s ideas were a shock to Campbell’s system” (p. 35). The critique of systemic issues, like Brexit’s fallout and inequality, is sharp: “Money led from mortgages to oligarchs” (p. 200). Indian readers, familiar with systemic corruption, will find this relatable. The novel’s humor, often biting, keeps it engaging: “Yuri could asset-strip in fifteen languages” (p. 100).

O’Hagan’s dialogue captures diverse voices, from aristocrats to rappers: “The streets were a battlefield for the young” (p. 150). The focus on accountability offers hope: “Truth was the only way out” (p. 230). The novel’s Dickensian ambition, blending high and low society, suits readers seeking rich, layered stories. Its relevance to global urban issues makes it a compelling read.

The novel’s length and sprawling cast can overwhelm: “London endured, broken but alive” (p. 300). Indian readers, accustomed to concise narratives, may struggle with its 650 pages. The British focus, especially on Brexit and the Northern Territory Intervention, feels distant: “Money led from mortgages to oligarchs” (p. 200). Parallels to India’s caste or communal issues are absent, limiting direct resonance.

Female characters, like Elizabeth and Mrs. Voyles, are vivid but underdeveloped: “Elizabeth saw through the facades of the elite” (p. 65). Their stories feel secondary to Campbell’s, reducing emotional depth. Youth culture portrayals, like Milo’s hacker friends, can seem stereotypical: “The streets were a battlefield for the young” (p. 150). Indian youth may find these depictions cliched.

Solutions, like embracing truth, are vague: “Truth was the only way out” (p. 230). Indian readers, facing practical challenges, may seek more concrete strategies. Cultural references, like London’s elite circles, may alienate those unfamiliar with the context: “Cally was a street of opulence and deprivation” (p. 45). A more universal lens would broaden appeal.

Why Indian Youth Readers Must Read This Book

Indian youth, caught in the churn of academic pressures and societal expectations, will find Caledonian Road a compelling mirror to their own struggles. The novel’s depiction of inequality and identity speaks to the ground reality of navigating India’s competitive landscape: “Cally was a street of opulence and deprivation” (O’Hagan, 2024, p. 45). For students tackling board exams or UPSC, it is a wake-up call to confront systemic flaws with resilience, seeing setbacks as steps toward growth.

The critique of privilege resonates with India’s class and caste divides: “Money led from mortgages to oligarchs” (p. 200). Youth facing job market pressures in tech or startups will relate to Campbell’s unraveling: “He was lost in the sprawling web of it all” (p. 215). Milo’s defiance inspires: “Milo’s ideas were a shock to Campbell’s system” (p. 35). In a system heavy on rote learning, the novel’s call for accountability empowers: “Truth was the only way out” (p. 230).

The diverse cast, from rappers to aristocrats, reflects India’s pluralistic society: “The streets were a battlefield for the young” (p. 150). For youth playing catch-up in a globalized world, the story’s hope offers strength: “London endured, broken but alive” (p. 300). Like a friend sharing a gritty tale over chai, Caledonian Road urges Indian youth to challenge inequities and find purpose, making it a must-read for those navigating modern complexities.

Caledonian Road is a bold, sprawling portrait of a fractured society, with lines like “London endured, broken but alive” (O’Hagan, 2024, p. 300) capturing its essence. Its vivid characters and sharp critique outweigh its length and British focus. Recommended for readers who relish complex social novels, it offers a profound lens on privilege and resilience, especially resonant for Indian youth navigating systemic challenges.