When novelists whose work is directed at an adult audience turn their attention to catering for a young readership the results are not always positive. Only a few of them manage to avoid the temptation to talk down, resulting in fiction characterised by archness, condescension or didacticism - and sometimes all three.
This kind of writing for children ends up as the literary equivalent of the crossover act attempted by the opera singer who (for whatever motives) decides to diversify into, say, Lennon and McCartney while wearing clothes that never quite fit: the result deservedly invites the scorn of both classical and popular music devotee and, in the case of fiction, of both adult and young reader.
This musical analogy comes readily to mind in a reading of The Sandy Bottom Orchestra, a book in which, however, the crossover performance works convincingly and in which there is hardly a false note to be heard. In collaboration with his wife, Keillor has given us a novel which retains the voice, tone and locale familiar to us since Lake Wobegon Days, to the extent that we might be inclined to question why it should be perceived as children's, as distinct from adult, fiction. It will, certainly, be much enjoyed by adult Keillor fans, once they adjust to the fact that its central character, Rachel Green, is only fourteen. But it is for readers of Rachel's age that the greatest pleasures lie waiting.
Rachel is burdened by one of the heaviest of all adolescent crosses, the parent (or, more exactly here, parents) whose behaviour and attitudes are a source of embarrassment. It is a theme which provides the starting point for much young adult fiction, especially from America, but Keillor's handling of it is distinguished by its finely balanced blend of amusement and compassion.
We begin by seeing her parents' weirdness through Rachel's eyes and by understanding her sense of outrage. But the story skilfully moves towards incorporating an illumination of parental dreams and disappointments which alters our (and Rachel's) perspective. When, in the novel's closing line, we read that "She turned and ran to catch up with her family", we know that adolescent and adult are reaching out to touch.
The destinies of Rachel, her mother and father are linked by their shared (but not always identical) commitment to classical music. Rachel is an aspiring violinist, her mother an organist and pianist and her father a conductor manque, who spends his time conducting imaginary orchestras while listening to his CDs. While much of the plot of the novel focuses on the fulfilments and frustrations which their shared musical interest brings with it, Keillor and Nilsson are careful to set it in a context of personal, familial and community concerns, many of these the source of the novel's comic richness. Rachel's mother, an indefatigable letterwriter to the local press and organist extraordinaire at the local Zion Methodist church, has a key role to play here.
At its most successful the Keillor brand of fiction persuades us that, even in places as apparently unprepossessing as Sandy Bottom ("Pop. 4,500, A City on the Grow"), lives are being lived, dramas being enacted and that these can be sufficiently alluringly recounted to engage and maintain our involvement.
Adolescent readers, trying in their own existences to sort out their feelings about parents, friends, school, career and community, will readily appreciate that in Rachel Green they have a heroine who is there, in the middle of it all, negotiating her way through a similar set of challenges. And the humour will be a remarkable bonus.
Robert Dunbar has recently edited First Times, an anthology of stories for young adults
