The Viaduct, David Wheldon’s first novel, published in 1983, was well received at the time. Following his death in 2022, it was rereleased by Valancourt Books. The story begins with Alexander – more commonly referred to as A., since Wheldon wanted to save time during the writing process (he had originally planned to add the full name later, but A. carried thematic weight in what became a Kafkaesque story). The protagonist being reduced to a mere letter also reflects his loss of personal identity after being released from prison where he served time for writing a seditious book that purported to expose the secrets of the city’s governmental workings.
Soon, however, he is confronted with new, unspecified charges and escapes his pursuers by fleeing down a stretch of abandoned railway tracks – taken over by nature – built on a viaduct that dominates the city. The viaduct, now blending seamlessly with the landscape, appears as though it were not crafted by human hands, but instead formed by a bizarre upheaval of the earth itself.
A. is dressed for travel – heavy boots, sturdy canvas trousers, and a pack on his back, which he later exchanges for a worn suit, confusing those he encounters and causing them to believe he is a lawyer. What A. is journeying toward remains unclear; there is no hint of a paradise at the end of the tracks, only more towns and villages. When asked, “Where are you going?” He simply replies, “I’m going on.”
His journey starts at the terminus, hoping to catch a train, only to find that the railway had been shut down a decade earlier. At the beginning of the novel, beneath the viaduct, several church bells toll, like the sound of a race starting gun. We learn that A.’s cell window overlooked the viaduct, and he would often gaze up at it. Such repeated, obsessive focus on something distant and unreachable might suggest themes of escapism or wistful dreaming.
There is a sense that the narrative may not just be a straightforward recounting of events, but rather a reflection of the character’s inner world – much like Bobby Western in Cormac McCarthy’s The Passenger, which also gives off a dreamlike atmosphere. We know nothing of those who pursue him. They are blunt-featured men of practised patience, like Stasi agents. Some of them pursue him on horseback; the most deadly possess a fixed stare that can make a man faint. A. gets beyond the “boundary,” and the city disappears as swiftly as it was created.
This is where the novel loses its early tension and switches from a slow-burning thriller to a book about everything and nothing. A. meets fellow travellers and villagers who have established small communities, where one man can serve as pastor, mayor, and magistrate. A. and his companions are regarded as directionless and superstitious. The novel portrays life as a constant search for comfort or stability, but this desire for security is ultimately unattainable, illusory. Someone remarks about A. “You were a dissatisfied young man.” This kind of dissatisfaction could lead to a man’s downfall. The story is surreal, and the characters feel more like mere vessels for the author’s voice than fully developed individuals. However, The Viaduct would fit perfectly on the shelf next to works by McCarthy, DeLillo, or Kafka.
Lee Wright has an MA in Creative Writing and is currently working towards a PhD researching memoir and film. His fiction and poetry have been published with Fairlight Books, époque press and Burning House Press.
