Review: Sophie, Standing There, by Meg Mason
'Mason suggests that the most meaningful relationships we form with art may ultimately reveal as much about ourselves...'
Sophie, Standing There is finally here. Meg Mason’s new novel, following her award-winning Sorrow and Bliss, explores what happens when a book becomes more than a book, and the strange intimacy between readers and the stories that matter to them. The title character, Sophie, is a freelance technician working behind the scenes at live events. At the start of the novel, she is finishing work on an annual book festival in an unnamed city. But Sophie, a booklover and people-pleaser, has just been left by her husband, Paul—a man who refers to his car as '"the Lexus." Always by the make. Never just "the car".' Sophie is struggling for money and living on her own in Paul’s 'dung heap' rental flat, and is unbearably lonely. She cannot muster the energy to reply to her best friend’s texts, is barely eating, and has only the support of her brother, Laurie.
When her bookstore owner friends gift her an advance copy of a soon-to-be-published novel, Sophie finds solace in its words and becomes enamoured with the author. She re-reads the author’s entire back catalogue; topics of motherhood and divorce didn’t resonate with Sophie on first read, but now, having been through fertility struggles and her marriage ending, it’s different. Author Lilac Dunne becomes the companion Sophie so desperately needs, and her infatuation grows into an obsession. She listens to Lilac speak on podcasts—'Episodes played over and over'. The author’s voice accompanies Sophie everywhere, and in Sophie’s mind, she starts to hear Lilac speak directly to her.
When the literary festival’s sister event rolls around, Sophie is given a surprise promotion. She finds herself with renewed purpose and self-worth—until a last-minute scheduling change means Lilac Dunne is added to the bill. Sophie had not factored in meeting the author in real life, and reality disrupts her carefully constructed fantasy.
Mason’s writing is witty and deeply engaging, particularly in her portrayal of the awkward, comic moments of everyday life. Many readers will find the glimpse behind the scenes of a literary festival, reading references and in-jokes enjoyable—the festival’s theme being, as 'Sophie secretly thought, so broad as to mean nothing', and Sophie 'secretly needing novels to have a plot.'
The novel pays close attention to Sophie’s invisibility and observes the experience of profound loneliness with tender precision. Sophie silently mics up the talent while they ignore her and tends to extra responsibilities without credit. She was routinely ignored by Paul while he scrolled his phone during their marriage, and comically, even the superstore’s automatic doors don’t see her. The depth and nuance in Mason’s characters are a strength of her writing, with Sophie especially sharply portrayed in all her endearing fragility. Less successful are the revelations near the end of the book, when the story delves into the unexpected backstory of Sophie’s childhood. The revelations arrive too late for their complexity to be adequately explored and feel at odds with the novel’s otherwise subtle and sympathetic portrayal of vulnerability.
In Sophie, Standing There, Mason weighs up the nature of parasocial relationships in our age of increasing loneliness: what they give and what they take from us, and the assumptions we make about celebrities. Many writers have commented that once a book goes into the world, it belongs to the readers, who will interpret it uniquely and create their own relationship with the work. For Sophie, Lilac’s book arrives at the moment she needs it, offering language to experiences she is struggling to process, and giving her a way through her heartache. Lilac’s confidence boosts Sophie’s: 'Whatever it was, she was so certain, and exact in what to do, and she seemed unafraid for herself. And listening, it felt as though the author was not afraid for Sophie either.' And yet, much of the wisdom Sophie takes from the writing comes from inside Sophie herself.
In a podcast, 'the author talked about how readers will come to ask for more than your work', and indeed, Sophie’s connection extends past the writing to Lilac as a person. Sophie creates her own idea of Lilac, which may not prove to be who she is in reality. The novel does not dismiss the meaning we find in art, but reminds us that we cannot know an artist through their work. Mason suggests that the most meaningful relationships we form with art may ultimately reveal as much about ourselves as about the artists who create it.
