Man and boy, in one Starting Over

GEORGE BAILEY is a burly policeman disenchanted with his life.

At 42, he craves excitement; but when he gets it, it proves too much for his heart. He’s saved by a transplant, but doesn’t feel like himself.

He becomes a teenager, aping the life of the donor of his heart. He grows his hair. He gets a tattoo, and wears ripped jeans and slogan T-shirts. Eschewing discipline, he gets leave from the police force, and lives with his parents in an untidy bedroom.

As a plot, this seems too neat; too clever and cynical. It could have made for a shallow book, if the author hadn’t shown such skill and subtlety. Tony Parsons knows his craft. In this, his sixth outing, the author of Man and Boy has produced a thought-provoking novel showing the pains of midlife, with all the multi-dilemmas we face, yet has lost none of his characteristic poignancy.

Parsons has done his research on a condition called cellular memory syndrome, by which recipients of organs take on the life of the donor. There’s a memorable scene where George confronts his surgeon, saying he’s desperate for his own life back. The surgeon is sceptical, but when George offers to fasten his bowtie for him, then fails, and mutters, ‘I used to know how to do it,’ the great man seems to believe him.

The new heart may not be the reason for George’s second adolescence. It could be a side effect of the cocktail of drugs he’s on to prevent rejection, or it could be that he is determined to make the most of this second chance at life. George meets fellow transplant patients through a patient-group. One of them, Larry, becomes a good friend and support. Noting how Larry’s family observe him as though his presence was too good to believe, George is jealous. How come his own family is falling apart?

At first, the change in George reaps benefits. His desire for his beautiful wife surges back. He is able to talk to his teenage son, Rufus; to empathise with him, and his sister, and to help in a way that was impossible before.

Soon, though, this congeniality misfires. His wife, Lara, gets fed up with being the only ‘bad guy.’ The kids discover that freedom isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Both face a crisis. Will George be able to become a man again, and rescue the situation?

All the scenes in this novel feel authentic, but it’s the characterisation that got me hooked. Parsons is especially skilled at showing the fraught, though tender relationship between parents and their teenagers. The scenes between George and his daughter, Ruby, are bittersweet.

He deals with that relationship by including George’s parents. He analyses that time when the caring is done by the children, and not the parents. Above all, though, Starting Over, is a love story. George and the delicate dancer, Lara, may not seem a likely match; yet their love somehow endures, facing out all the problems.

And it’s not a selfish love. When Lara attains her dream, and dances the Tango in Buenos Aires, with another man, George watches entranced. He has never, he realises, loved her more. This is a tender, funny, and thought-provoking novel. One of the original proponents of lad-lit, Tony Parsons has come of age.