The Friday Gospels - Jenn Ashworth

In her first two novels, the Betty Trask Award-winning A Kind of Intimacy (2009) and Cold Light (2011), Jenn Ashworth explored the seedy and surreal underside of Northern life. The theme is continued in The Friday Gospels, which describes life in the Mormon community of Chorley from the points of view of the Leeke family. As they prepare to welcome the younger son, Gary, back from his two year mission in Utah, each family member gradually reveals the secrets they have been keeping from their relatives, building up to the sort of cathartic reunion dinner normally only seen in soap operas.

Daughter Jeannie is feeling sick in the mornings, and keeps sneaking off to the chemists; oldest son Julian has turned his back on his religion, and dreams of escaping, alongside the one person to whom he feels a connection; mother Pauline is housebound, but too ashamed of her condition to seek medical attention, and her husband Martin lacks force of character, but dreams of a new life with dog-enthusiast Nina. Meanwhile, Gary dreads the attention he will receive, his self-confidence shattered by failure to make any new converts during his mission. In the background, the Eyjafjallajökull volcano smoulders ominously.

Although in the past there has been a hint of the creative writing exercise about Ms Ashworth’s novels, there is a sense that The Friday Gospels is what she has been building up to. Drawing on her own experiences growing up within Preston’s Mormon community, there is an anger and a tension in the writing, which never extends to hostility towards individual characters but ensures that she hits her targets when attacking practices of the Mormon church, particularly its ingrained misogyny.

In one particularly effective section, Jeannie attends an early morning class where the Elders of the community lecture the girls on the importance of virginity. Each girl is handed a cupcake, which they are told to take care of, except for Jeannie, who is encouraged to pass hers to a boy who licks the icing off. At the end of the class, the other girls can give their pristine cakes to a boy of their choice, but Jeannie’s gift is rejected - it is ‘soiled, disgusting, second-hand’. These classes, alomg with other hints in the text, build up the impression of a culture where a lot happens between the lines, where traditional morality is ingrained in the teaching, but hypocrisy is rife.

Later, Pauline is forced to leave the house as her daughter lets her down, and finds herself helpless in the supermarket as a result of her disability. Facing utter humiliation, she is rescued by Nina, who works in the shop. This coincidence feels unforced, and leads to some of the strongest and most dramatic writing in the novel. As the narrative develops, the characters reveal unexpected depths, and events spiral out of control. Julian and Jeannie, in particular, are forced into desperate acts by their desire to escape their surroundings, leading to a shocking denouement.

Throughout The Friday Gospels, Ms Ashworth resists the urge to sensationalise Mormonism, preferring instead to show how sexism and hypocrisy are woven into the everyday life of the church. This approach benefits the novel, which is propelled along by the slow-burning drama of the storyline and the strength of the narrative voices rather than by tabloidesque revelations. If the finale is unexpected then it doesn’t feel unrealistic, and each character is well-rounded, no matter how disturbing some of their behaviour may be.

While Jenn Ashworth has built up a loyal following among readers and bloggers - she was the only writer to be nominated twice for the alternative Best of Young British Writers list - she has not really received the recognition she deserves from the literary establishment. Maybe The Friday Gospels is still too Northern in feel to change that, but in terms of drama and narrative quality, it should.