‘Gliff’, Iris Tree, and Carrington
‘Iris Tree on a horse’ by Dora Carrington, c.1920s, courtesy the Imgram Collection
Gliff, the recent novel by Ali Smith, distantly reminiscent of Aldous Huxley’s A Brave New World and George Orwell’s 1984, is a story about a society that broadly resembles that of contemporary Britain. Featuring two sisters, Briar or ‘Bri’, a trans/non-binary teenager, and her younger sibling, Rose, it tells of events that began to develop when a family emergency causes the departure of their mother, and then of her partner Leif, which leaves the two sisters alone and in hiding. Like many of the protagonists in Smith’s books, Bri and Rose are outsiders, considered deviant or disruptive by the authorities, and everywhere they go they’re marked out as ‘other’ - literally, when special machines circle their home with red paint - and they’re categorised as ‘Unverified’, a category of non-persons who have evaded compulsory classification, or whose origins or behaviour are deemed to be transgressive. The two sisters are always in danger of being tracked and pursued by the surveillance at the heart of the government’s controls and procedures.
Specific details of the repressive society are few, described mainly through their impact on Bri, Rose, and one or two others, but at least one of its aspects is emphasised: the wealthy live in a state of insensitive detachment, relying on the less well-off to service their needs. In Gliff’s dystopia, cracks have become so wide that the rich seem not even to see the poor; ‘It was like they all had their backs to me, even the ones facing me’, Bri says. ‘Their disconnect was what elegant meant’. Also obvious is authoritarianism: anyone who doesn’t submit to the system can be forcibly sent away to stringent re-education facilities or may simply disappear. Most people, however, are acquiescent, some even helping to watch and report their friends and neighbours. Bri and Rose, however, are unusual. Home-schooled by their mother, they have been brought up with books rather than screens; they were taught to question what they’re told and to value direct experience more than its digital equivalent. It’s not clear why they have been excluded as ‘Unverifiable’; it may be because of their mother’s behaviour and attitudes;, but one way or another they are different, on the run from power that is predictably faceless, ruthless and banal.
Left to their own devices, Rose and Bri encounter a small herd of horses that have been set apart for the local abattoir, and the younger sister forms a bond with a grey she calls Gliff, which Bri tells her is a polysemous Scottish word: ‘because of what you called him’, she says, ‘he can be everything and anything’. Rose’s affection for the horse is perhaps a sign of how we can care for others, even those who are radically different, or whose views and values we do not share. Contemporary cultural issues, such as climate change, environmental degradation, and the destructive power of global capitalism are also alluded to, as are ideas about cultural transience, the ebb and flow of history, and how different ways and means of living are chosen and followed. Although Bri and Rose’s future appears unpromising, there are hints of resistance and optimism, of the possibility that change and flux might override rigidity and conformism. Gliff is formally less radical than many of Smith’s other books, more linear and direct, but its themes and concerns are familiar, as are its intertextuality and plurality of influences. There are direct and indirect references to art and its history, to fairy tales, mythology, and the work of writers like Alan Garner as well as to Orwell and Huxley, all of which help to add interesting twists to a story that is neither especially original nor innovative, but which is unexpectedly engaging. A companion book, entitled Glyph, is yet to be published.
On Gliff’s unusual cover - plain cardboard, bold typeface, yellow cloth spine - there is a cut-out shaped like a half-moon, through which a crudely painted eye, part of the end-paper, can be seen. It is a detail of a small reverse glass painting by Dora Carrington, made in the 1920s, of Iris Tree (a well-known bohemian and eccentric, occasional actress and poet) riding a horse. Tree was also painted by Augustus John, Duncan Grant, Vanessa Bell, Roger Fry, and Modigliani, as well as sculpted by Jacob Epstein and photographed by Man Ray; she had many fashionable friends, including the ‘renegade heiress’ Nancy Cunard and the aristocratic actress Diana Cooper, and she later appeared in Federico Fellini's ‘La Dolce Vita’. Her general behaviour was often considered outrageous or scandalous.
Dora Carrington, who preferred to be known simply by her surname, was equally off-beat, and there is perhaps an implied connection between her, Tree, and Bri. Although not part of Bloomsbury’s inner circle, Carrington was close and enthusiastically embraced its ethos; bisexual and free-spirited, she became infatuated with the writer Lytton Strachey, who was gay, and she lived in a ‘ménage a trois’ with him and Ralph Partridge, marrying the latter in order to keep the trio together. All three continued to have regular affairs with people of different genders. While her love relationships were not dissimilar to those of fellow artist Vanessa Bell, Carrington was less able to flourish in the Bloomsbury milieu; she experienced darkness and sadness in what might at first appear to be a world of enviable bohemian freedom. Strachey was manipulative, keeping her close but at an emotional distance, and she killed herself, still young, two months after his death. Charming and widely liked, not rich but comfortable enough to have no need to make a living from the sale of her paintings, it is somewhat surprising that her short life was hapless. Rather than in her more typical paintings, reflections of her unusual character can be found in the ‘tinsel pictures’, such as the portrait of Iris Tree, which were made with silver foil, ink, and paint pressed against glass. They are quirky and bewitching.
For further exploration:
Review of Gliff: https://www.theguardian.com/books/2024/nov/02/gliff-by-ali-smith-review-reading-the-signs-of-crisis?CMP=share_btn_url
About Dora Carrington: https://beyondbloomsbury.substack.com/p/dora-carrington-a-brilliant-life
Review of Carrington exhibition: https://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2024/nov/08/dora-carrington-beyond-bloomsbury-pallant-house-gallery-chichester?CMP=share_btn_url
full 1995 film: ‘Carrington’: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XKY31Z0Ey2c
Image on index page: detail of self-portrait by Carrington, courtesy Jerwood Collection
Carrington, Ralph Partridge, Lytton Strachey, Oliver Strachey, Frances Parteidge, by Ottoline Morrell, 1923