Claire Thomas's 'On Not Climbing Mountains' Explores Grief Through Swiss History
Claire Thomas's latest novel, On Not Climbing Mountains, is an ambitious work that intertwines personal grief with extensive historical and literary references. Published by Hachette Australia, this book follows Beatrice, a solitary narrator traveling by train through Switzerland, her father's birthplace, as she seeks distraction from the loss of her parents.
A Journey Through Swiss Connections
The novel is structured as a series of vignette-like chapters, each centered on a historical figure with ties to Switzerland. These include Mary Shelley, James Baldwin, Charlie Chaplin, and Katherine Mansfield, portrayed not in conventional biographies but through oblique, lightly-touched narratives. Thomas draws from real sources, creating a blur between fact and fiction that echoes the style of W.G. Sebald.
Until the late 18th century, Swiss mountains were mere backdrops, but philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau reframed them as sites of spiritual enlightenment, sparking a climbing craze. Thomas uses this shift as a metaphor for Beatrice's own search for meaning amidst her detachment.
Artistic Detachment and Narrative Control
Beatrice's fascination with Swiss painter Jean-Frédéric Schnyder, who depicted mundane interiors like train station waiting rooms, mirrors the novel's focus on small details over grand events. Each chapter feels meticulously framed, with history churning beneath Thomas's prose. The import of images or scenes is often ambiguous, revealing bigger pictures slowly—a technique that demands patient reading.
For instance, lines from Nabokov describing a "wondrous crystalline world" initially seem alpine but refer to a butterfly under a microscope. Similarly, figures assumed historical may turn out to be characters from Graham Greene stories, adding layers of intertextuality.
Beatrice's Elusive Presence and Emotional Withdrawal
Beatrice herself remains an ambiguous presence, her name revealed only halfway through the book. Her intermittent first-person narration, such as noting Nabokov's name on museum labels, underscores her emotional withdrawal. The profusion of Swiss-related material serves as a failed distraction from grief, with Beatrice feeling "emptied" when distractions fade.
In one of the few present-day scenes, a visit from her father's friend leaves her scared that "books stories art obsessions are no longer working," highlighting her struggle to connect.
Stylistic Departure and Reader Engagement
Compared to Thomas's previous novel The Performance, which was propulsive and hilarious, On Not Climbing Mountains is slower, subtler, and more effortful. It accrues meaning through association, digression, and resonance, appealing to fans of melancholic, contemplative narratives. However, the limited action and fleeting access to Beatrice's interiority may frustrate some readers, requiring patience to fully appreciate.
Ultimately, this is an impressively intricate work that explores the endurance of art and memory, though its obliqueness might not absorb every reader's attention. Priced at $32.99, it offers a deep dive into Swiss cultural history through the lens of personal loss.
