What if Princess Diana hadn’t died, but, aided by her besotted press secretary, had faked her death and fled to America to live under an assumed identity? Is this an interesting question? Is a novelist justified in exploring such a supposition? I believe the answer to both questions is ‘no’.
What if Princess Diana hadn’t died, but, aided by her besotted press secretary, had faked her death and fled to America to live under an assumed identity? Is this an interesting question? Is a novelist justified in exploring such a supposition? I believe the answer to both questions is ‘no’. In writing Untold Story, Monica Ali has made a serious mistake.
Ali relocates Diana, ten years on, to a dull American town called Kensington (geddit?). Kensington’s chief claim to fame is a particularly successful undertaker’s establishment. (The implicit ironies remain unexplored; like most of the novel’s thematic trails, this one peters out). Diana, now called Lydia, her hair dyed dark, her nose surgically altered, finds a direction for her famous caring abilities at a dogs’ rescue centre. Three sterotyped women — dressy blonde Amber, plump scruffy Suzie, kooky Tevis — provide the undemanding, supportive friendship denied her in ‘real’ life. There is an equally bland, good-natured suitor, Carson, who cuts down trees, fixes blueberry pancakes for her breakfast, and looks good in his jeans. Has ‘Lydia’ found the cosy normality Diana always (apparently) craved?
Lydia’s only link to her past is a hidden box of cuttings about the sons she left behind. However, she feels secure enough to abandon her brown contact lenses, and this is her undoing. Enter ‘Grabber’ Grabowski, a paparazzo who once got his living and his kicks out of shadowing the Princess.
Comments
Join the debate for just £1 a month
Be part of the conversation with other Spectator readers by getting your first three months for £3.
UNLOCK ACCESS Just £1 a monthAlready a subscriber? Log in