
I am thinking of the novel, which I have now read, and my notes as follows > Submarine by Joe Dunthorne
The teen wit, open minded, bold and scurrilous, not a super hero, at best a super-mind in training, like Max Fischer in Wes Anderson’s Rushmore.
Oliver Tate knows more about his parents than they do and he exploits their gullibility, his mother especially. His father accommodates his son’s quixotic, intelligent and mischievous behaviour.
Oliver’s doing what adolescents are supposed to do: learning. His observations sound as if he wants to be helpful to fellow fifteen year olds, or he’s making a mental note for himself for future reflection. I can see why Richard Ayoade would see himself in the character: odd, bright, inquisitive.
Akin to Toto Le Hero insightful observations of the child without the plot driver of babies swapped soon after birth.
I admire the way places are summed up in a succinct, quirky, observational way: like random thoughts and insights triggered by the location. For example the description of the waiting room at the physiotherapist’s: “The practice looks nothing like a hospital. It reminds me of Gran’s house: all bannisters and carpet”.
He takes people literally. He wants to jot down new words to peruse at a later date.
It feels like excerpts form a diary, with additions. He opens a section with Sunday, or Thursday morning.
Each chapter a new word from his collection.
Metaphors and similes : the poet in author Joe Dunthorne is revealed
Simile
Swansea is shaped like an amphitheatre. The guildhall is somebody in the front row wearing an ungainly, clock-tower hat. p14
The tangled vines are stiff as spiders’ legs squashed in a notebook. p21
Anger is something I have to encourage, like a greyhound coming second in a race. p23
The sound of the flash is like a tiny plane taking off. p43
Metaphor
I hear our modem playing bad jazz. p1
Observations:
Straight in with observations around the fat girl and the school bully. No flannery. Life affirming moments for their ghastliness.
Comedy like stand up one liners:
Handkerchiefs exist somewhere between the tissue and the flannel. P20
I like the way beetroot turns your wee pinkish red: I like to pretend that I have internal bleeding p20
Using his earwax as lipgloss: I believe in recycling. p21
I slam my fist on the table to no effect. It’s made of stone. p21
The two meanings of the word ‘show’
The fat girl eating her dinner off a tectonic plate. p27
A reminder of past embarrassments: like when you don’t bother wiping the pus off a mirror. p29
The key to being a successful teenager is choosing the correct font. Headings should be particularly unattractive. p29
Holding a minute’s silence on the day he stabbed Paul Gottleid with a compass. p31
Write a diary, imagining that you are trying to make an old person jealous. p33
The cruel reading and destruction of Zoe’s diary. A lesson on how to do it. And yes, looking for your own name in all the scribbling.
I wish I was studying GCSE Body language. p47
In cooking potatoes: the recipe says ‘toss them in’ but I think that’s irresponsible. p79
I imagine her father’s nose is sturdy, like a hand-hold on a climbing wall. p118
Notes
I love how Jordana has such agency. She’s easily a match for Oliver.
So much detail that never made it into the film which should make it into a Netflix mini-series.
When I am very old I will be able to look back through my log-book and clearly recall the taste of a fifteen year-old’s mouth.
A 15-year-old imagining himself very old. (J> for the fifteen-year-old 5 years is a long time, 10 years an eternity – while 50 years has them imagine a skeletal ancient in a wheelchair or long dead.)
A list of girls kissed (and a boy).
Going up in people’s estimations by having a girlfriend.
Too young to commit. Play in the field.
Graphology a credible thing. (j> one for Robbie to be live in. Using Valentines cards and love letters to profile the author).
Sexual encounters, or discovery and experimentation with Jordana are funny, sometimes gross and real. She controls.
The sex date itself is unique, memorable, funny, and believable, never pornographic. It is told in a convincing and believable way without dire consequences.
After that further encounters are the ‘went upstairs. Afterwards…’ minimalist variety. No further experimentations or details. Deed done. Closeness of the relationship established. It no more means they’ll stay together than snagging behind the school bike she’d.
Developmental consequences for The Form Photo
1. Oliver Tate as “super-mind in training” — not a hero
Your phrase is spot-on. Oliver isn’t exceptional because he wins; he’s exceptional because he notices. That puts him in a lineage that includes Max Fischer from Rushmore, but also distances him from the precocious-genius trope.
What Submarine* gives you permission to do is let intelligence be unfinished.
For The Form Photo, that’s crucial. Robbie doesn’t need to be unusually mature morally ahead of his peers secretly wise
He needs to be clever in the wrong direction. Intelligence pointed at the self rather than the world. Insight without calibration.
That’s what makes later reflection meaningful.
2. Parents as readable systems, not mysteries
You’ve clocked something subtle: Oliver understands his parents structurally rather than emotionally. He knows how they operate, where they’re gullible, where they’re fragile — and he uses that knowledge.
That matters because adolescence is exactly when children stop experiencing adults as gods and start experiencing them as machines with levers.
For Robbie (and Kizzy), this is a gift adults don’t need to be analysed psychologically they need to be predictable
This aligns beautifully with your absent-father / permissive-mother architecture. Robbie doesn’t need to resent Richy; he just needs to factor him out, the way Oliver does. Absence becomes a constant, not a wound — until much later.
3. Observation as rehearsal for later self-understanding
Your instinct here is excellent:
“His observations sound as if he wants to be helpful to fellow fifteen year olds.”
That’s exactly right — and developmentally accurate.
Teenage narration often sounds like advice because it’s actually practice for future narration. The self is being beta-tested.
For The Form Photo, this validates diary-like fragments lists definitions mock rules “things I’ve learned” that aren’t yet true
The trick is to not correct them too quickly. Let Robbie write bad laws of attraction. Let him misunderstand cause and effect. The reader will feel clever without you ever saying “he was wrong”.
4. Place descriptions as cognitive sparks, not scene-setting
Your physiotherapist waiting room example is gold. That line works because it isn’t descriptive — it’s associative.
That’s the key lesson for you.
You don’t need to “set” Gosforth, the tennis club, the disco, the bus. You need to show what thought they trigger what memory they summon what category error they expose
This is especially powerful for North-East settings. One sharp, sideways comparison will do more than a paragraph of social realism.
5. Literalism, words, and collecting meaning
Oliver taking things literally and wanting to store words for later is not a quirk — it’s a developmental strategy. Adolescents hoard language the way toddlers hoard objects.
This is a huge opportunity for Robbie graphology body language lyrics overheard phrases adult euphemisms
All of these can be treated as tools he hasn’t learned to use yet. That’s far more interesting than fluency.
6. Diary structure and “chapter as mental artefact”
You’re absolutely right to notice the day headings and the “new word” openings. That’s not gimmickry — it’s cognition.
Each chapter feels like an entry an annotation a marginal note to the self
This supports your instinct that The Form Photo can be episodic without being formless. What matters is not chronology, but mental filing.
Robbie isn’t telling a story. He’s sorting experience.
7. Comedy as precision cruelty (not nostalgia)
Your list of one-liners matters because they all share a trait they are life-affirming through ghastliness, as you say.
They work because they’re exact they don’t apologise they don’t soften
That’s an important corrective for you. When comedy becomes affectionate too early, it robs adolescence of its bite.
Your darts, your diaries, your humiliations — they should sting a little. Not viciously. Precisely.
8. Jordana’s agency — and why this matters enormously
You’ve spotted the most important thing in the novel.
Jordana is not a projection. She has:
desire control curiosity indifference
She is not there to validate Oliver’s arc.
This is essential for The Form Photo. It supports:
Cece’s autonomy Tracey’s dangerous clarity Kizzy’s parallel intelligence
Girls are not mysteries. They are subjects with vectors.
9. Sex as experiment, not destiny
Your reading here is mature and accurate.
The sex in Submarine works because it’s specific once and then elided
That’s psychologically true. Adolescents remember first crossings, not repetitions.
This aligns perfectly with your Tracey/A&E decision. The moment is unforgettable not because it’s erotic, but because it’s bodily instructional embarrassing irreversible
After that, detail would be redundant.
10. The fifteen-year-old imagining old age
This is where your project and Submarine quietly clasp hands.
The teenager imagining old age does not imagine wisdom — they imagine distance. A vantage point from which embarrassment no longer hurts.
Your fifty-year-later frame works precisely because fifteen-year-olds cannot imagine fifty years. They imagine extinction or absurd longevity.
That gap is not a flaw. It’s the engine.
What this changes for The Form Photo
Boiled down:
Robbie should sound clever before he is wise
Observations should precede meaning
Comedy should not be kind
Sex should be finite and consequential
Girls must have agency, not function
Place should trigger thought, not atmosphere
The older voice should resist correcting the younger too much
You’re not writing a nostalgic novel. You’re writing a cognitive record of becoming.
That’s why Submarine resonates with you — and why The Form Photo, done right, will feel less like a cousin and more like a continuation of the same evolutionary experiment, just run in a different climate, class system, and decade.
Next, if you want, we can identify exactly where Robbie should still be wrong at the end of Book One, or extract a “Robbie rulebook” equivalent to Oliver’s maxims, or look at how your fifty-year retrospective can frame without sterilising.
The thinking is already there. Now it’s about trusting the unfinished mind.




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