SWIFT

If only because it is Graham Swift, I feel I have a right to be disappointed. After all, this is the Brit who gave us "Waterland" and "Last Orders," a writer has been compared to Dickens and Faulkner. That is not to say that there are not some good things about "Light of Day," his latest novel. The jokes may be a bit heavy-handed (a murderess is "dressed to kill"), but there is a residue of Swift's deadpan sense of humor. His hero is a divorced detective who has taken up cooking and who can't seem to help bedding his female clients, and then assimilating them into his life. As in his earlier, and far superior work, "Shuttlecock," the story is a mystery that doesn't get solved-it's not the who that's important, but the why. As in "The Sweet-Shop Owner" and "Waterland," a leading character is a woman whose behavior is indecipherable, particularly to the man who loves her, George Webb (great name for a private eye, by the way), the answers to whose questions must await his loved one's re-emergence from prison into "the light of day." But the elements don't add up to much here. The text is more like notes toward a novel, rather than the real thing itself. I wanted to know more about these people, not in the sense of learning their motivation, which is understandably opaque, especially in the case of something as outré as murder, but at least to the extent of seeing George in action with the object of his affection, Susan, on at least one occasion where he wasn't tongue-tied. This novel took Swift seven years to write. He has had bad patches before; between the marvels of "Waterland" and "Last Orders" came the disappointing "Out of This World" and "Ever After." But those were much more ambitious and therefore forgivable failures than "Light of Day," which, while continuing to explore Swift's favorite theme of qualified hope for the future, is tentative at best.

For some reason, a number of reviewers use the term "hard boiled" in their description of this deeply psychological novel. Presumably this is because the protagonist is an ex-policeman who was kicked off the force for "corruption" and is now doing seedy "matrimonial" detective work. And other familiar "hard boiled" types on hand as well: the efficient secretary who pines for the PI, the femme fatale client, a cheating husband, and the PI's long-gone ex-wife. While these are certainly well-established hard-boiled types, Swift is much more interested in noir than hard-boiled. Now "noir" is itself a very tricksy word in film and litcrit circles, with many and varied meanings. However, noir's main recurring theme is that of fate, and fate is what Swift is really interested in investigating in this novel. Another of noir's key themes is the individual's inability to escape the past, and this too, plays a major role.

The story takes place over the course of a day in the head of middle-aged George Webb, the aforementioned ex-cop turned private investigator. His interior monologue takes quite a while to get used to, lurching around in fits and starts, back and forth in time, with little glimpses here and there. This is a canny writing job of capturing the fractured nature of thought, which is rarely so kind as to adhere to complete direct syntaxóbut it also makes for jarring reading. The style only really works because it's a special day for Webb: the anniversary of the day a client killed her husband. Not just any client, but the client he's become completely obsessed with and visits every two weeks in jail.

Over the course of this emotionally distressing day, Webb's thoughts gradually reveal not only the story of his client's crime, but the story of his dismissal from the police, as well as his childhood, and his relationship with his daughter. Swift is careful to release only micrograms of information at a time, so that the complete portrait of Webb's life accumulates in fragments, like a pointillist painting gradually coming alive as the dots mount up. But for all this coyness, there's no real suspense in the narrative, events proceed along an inevitable track dictated by fate. It's heavily suggested early on that Webb was unjustly dismissed from the police, and it turns out he was. Webb's career in "matrimonial " detective work turns out to be linked to his childhood. Webb's obsession with his murderess client is based on... well... nothing really, it just inexplicably exists (as in a film noir). Ditto with any explanation for the client's crimeóit's just what fate had in store, and that's all there is to it. Ultimately, all of this is rather unsatisfying, if stylistically well-written. I've long wanted to read one of Swift's books, but this doesn't seem to be a good one to start with.

Not only an important book, The Light Of Day is an important work of art. Booker Prize winner Graham Swift skillfully paints his protagonist's past and hoped for future within the frame of one single day.

George Webb is a former policeman, relieved of his duties by poor judgment and ensuing scandal. Rachel, his wife, responded to these events by leaving him.

"We both knew which way it worked for Rachel," George opines. " Rachel decided - almost overnight - that I wasn't just a bad cop, I was a bad husband, a bad deal altogether. Rachel decided I was no longer for her and went her own way."

With little but a policeman's training to recommend him, George becomes a private investigator reduced to tracking down evidence of unfaithful husbands or wives for their vengeful spouses. Enter Sarah Nash, a teacher , and prospective client who comes to occupy his every thought.

Rather than follow her husband, Sarah has an altogether different request. She already knows that her husband Bob has been having an affair with her pupil and their houseguest, Kristina, a Croatian refugee. Now, according to Bob, the affair is over and Kristina will return to Croatia. Sarah wants the pair watched to make sure the girl really boards the plane.

Throughout this tense, dark narrative, all of which takes place in George's mind, we learn of the day he first discovered that his father was an adulterer, and relive the joy he feels when having dinner with his daughter, Helen.

We also are privy to his dreams of the future as he waits for Sarah who has been imprisoned.

Graham Swift's remarkable soul baring novel is a reminder of the twists and turns that life may take as well as a haunting psychological drama.

- Gail Cooke

Once you've adjusted to Swift's trademark narrative pacing, his rapid fire interior monologue and fragmented half sentences reflecting the instant imaging of narrator George's ruminations, there's much in "The Light Of Day" to enthrall you and keep the pages turning.

The story - a psychological thriller about murder, love and betrayal - pans out in compelling noir-ish fashion with George, a former disgraced policeman turned private investigator, as the novel's sole narrator. In fact, we don't ever meet anybody else (even the novel's heroine Sarah) in the first person. In other words, we live in George's mind and have no means of ascertaining the reliability or otherwise of his version of events that unfold. We gather very early on that an assignment starting out like any other soon proves to be a cataclysmic event that turns his life upside down. He is inexorably drawn to his client Sarah, hence hopes to deliver "good news" about the future of her marriage (evidence of unselfish love ?), yet secretly harbours hopes of supplanting her faithless husband in his client's affection. Confusing ? Not quite. Once you've figured out George's own murky past, in particular the terrible burden he has had to bear to protect his mother's false happiness, all will become clear. Swift keeps you guessing till the very end. I can't agree with reviewers who complain that "what really happened that fateful night" is predictable and less than earth shattering. I thought it was deeply truthful and powerfully resonant. Betrayal turns love in an instant into hate and then back again.

The novel isn't obviously overwritten, though its arguably thin premise makes it seem so. At least, there is the feeling that Swift repeats himself once past the half way mark. Perhaps Swift meant to simulate the workings of a ruminative mind. Who knows ? In any case, Swift fans won't be disappointed with "The Light of Day". It's stylishly crafted and executed to perfection. Highly recommended.

This classic tale deals with feelings of insignificance and uselessness and has been a favorite of readers young and old for generations as it tells the story of a valuable lighthouse overshadowed by a great and new bridge and, ultimately, forgotten. This children's book inspired the reclamation and restoration of the abandoned and neglected Jeffrey's Hook Lighthouse, which today is once again handsome and open for public tours. There are a number of Web sites specific to Jeffrey's Hook Lighthouse and the construction of the Bridge for those interested in more information about either. Visiting these sites may serve as an effective way to introduce young readers to the computer and the Internet...

During my childhood, I passed by the Lighthouse coming and going to my grandmother's home in Brooklyn. The last time I saw it (as an adult), was several years ago through a telescope atop the World Trade Center.

Bob Keeshan died yesterday and those of us trying to salve the ache of having a key pillar of our youth pass away having been thinking back on and talking about what made "Captain Kangaroo" the "Sesame Street" of its day. In addition to Mr. Greenjeans and Bunny Rabbit, there were the classic children's books that were read to us by the Captain. On a list of beloved books that includes "Make Way for Ducklings," "Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel," and "Ping," there is also "The Little Red Lighthouse and Great Gray Bridge." So far everybody I have been talking to about Captain Kangaroo has remembered the book and every one of them has driven under the George Washington Bridge in New York City and seen the Little Red Lighthouse that stands watching over the Hudson River.

I think "The Little Red Lighthouse and the Gray Bridge," written by Hildegard Hoyt Swift and illustrated by Lynd Ward, is arguably the most significant of the books we first "read" on "Captain Kangaroo." I have two reasons for this. The first is the powerful metaphor for young children that something little can still be important in a world where some things are much bigger. The second is that the story is "true," in the very real sense that you can see the great gray bridge and see the little red lighthouse, which is never ever going to be torn down just because of this book. The idea that stories can be true is a very important idea for young readers to absorb. I would add the idea that just because something is bigger and newer it is not better, but that certainly would be showing my age, would it not?

Even though this book was originally published in 1942, I feel safe in saying that most of the children who have ever read "The Little Red Lighthouse and the Great Gray Bridge" did so directly or indirectly because of Bob Keeshan. This is true even if they have never held a copy of the actual book in their own hands. I wonder if young kids today, who are just learning how to read, still have the opportunity to have stories read to them like we did on "Captain Kangaroo." It has been sixty years since this book was first published and tonight even with Captain Kangaroo gone, there is some comfort in knowing that the littel red lighthouse still proudly stands beneath the George Washington Bridge.

I wrote my original review of this book on October 2, 1997 (I'm listed as "A reader from the Bronx"). My review still stands, of course (Why should it change? The book's magnificent). As I'd fervently wished for, the copy of this book that my parents gave me when I was 5 is now my four-year-old son's favorite book. He sleeps with it, in fact.

When I was 6, my parents took me to the famous lighthouse, and took a series of pictures that still hangs on my wall. My parents and I are planning soon to recreate that trip, take the same pictures... only with my own son in them now. All of this inspired by a wonderful book that still lives on as a classic childrens' fable.