In this second novel by the late Montreal writer, it’s 1970 in Montreal and a 70 year old woman named Eve, without notice, leaves her loveless marriage and ailing husband of 40 years for no apparent reason, to live a life of poverty, hiding, and communicates only with her son. As I can find no reference to a husband, one can speculate about how much of this first person singular account is autobiographical. She was, after all, almost the same age as the fictional Eve.
Anyway, the fictional Eve, living in a boarding house with a lot of very eccentric people, waffles endlessly about her decision, the morality of various relationships and her new life of austerity. There is no deep philosophical discussion about the meaning of life, but how to experience a good life is included in her musings. Her self-questioning is accompanied by a host of changing psychosomatic symptoms. « Wrestled out the cork, a long struggle that made me sweat, and took a large swallow without the formality of a glass. The stomach took this surprise with consternation, but after a brief hesitancy decided to accept it. » There is more than a hint of early feminism.
The characters are certainly not hard to keep straight and the writing is down-to-earth and delightful. The question about whether or not she will return to her secure but boring life with her husband permeates the whole book. I will not divulge the answer.
A very enjoyable read.
4.5/5
Thanks, Vera.
The Passionate Reader 