Like Bletchley Park, only ...

Book Review – Ipseity, by Charles Pither
Published by köhlerbooks
Available in paperback from Coles Books, Bicester ( https://coles-books.co.uk/ipseity-by-charles-pither-paperback )

Also available from Amazon in paperback, hardback and Kindle ( Amazon.co.uk : ipseity charles pither )

I’m a fussy reader. I’m not keen on contemporary fiction, romances or spy thrillers. Then again Ipseity, the 2024 debut novel by retired clinician Charles Pither, is a romance with espionage-intrigue, and I love it.

Ipseity (which means personal identity and individuality) is a Peter-meets-Elizabeth-Peter-loses-Elizabeth-Elizabeth-throws-Peter-a-curveball-when-she-dies kind of story. The curveball relates to their working together during World Ward II at Briggens House in rural Essex. Here resided the Special Operations Executive (SOE), where documents and other papers were forged to facilitate the passage of undercover allies through enemy territory. Undeniably, Briggens House was as important as, but less well known than, Bletchley Park. Until now.

So on the surface, not my cup of tea, but the opening chapter, covering all of one page, had me hooked. It sets the scene and the mood and direction of travel. Effortlessly. It also portends the delicious application of our elegant English language that permeates the narrative. 

All the characters, even the comparative walk-ons, such as Peter’s estranged brother and the dog that interrupts Elizabeth’s lovemaking, are ‘alive’, and interesting and intriguing for a reason, not just for the sake of it. My personal favourite is Peter’s French lover in later life. Seemingly inconsequential to the plot, she exudes ‘Frenchness’, loyalty and kindness and, in the end, is indispensable.

My least favourite character fuels my one criticism of the novel. I just could not warm to Elizabeth. It might be because of the brutal way she ended her relationship with Peter (with whom I empathised), or that she was an habitual fault-finder – in Peter, her school, London flat, post-war job and family members. On the other hand, perhaps her negativity is a deliberate and necessary foil, constructed by Charles, for the emotional rollercoaster of her post-Peter romance.

Indeed, everything about the novel is necessary and relevant and not just to add colour or pace. For example, the piano-cello duets are a metaphor for Elizabeth’s developing romance. The blackbird calls that haunt the ancestral pile are symbolic. The nightmare is … a nightmare. Even the author bears a relevant and passing resemblance to the actor Donald Pleasence, who starred in Colditz. The work at Briggens House is painstakingly researched and described, and it’s fascinating. Never again will I think of 'paper’ as a simple, singular concept, or ‘handwriting style’ as a trivial individual trait. In all their multifariousness, at Briggens House paper and handwriting are a matter of life and death.

The reader assumes at the outset that Peter and Elizabeth’s work at Briggens, reinforced by the title of the novel, has wider significance than wartime duties and a dalliance. And so it does, but whose identity is questionable, and when and how and why, is only revealed in the final chapters when the pages can’t stop turning.

And when you think it’s all over, the proverbial fat lady sings one last song to beguile her audience.