I jumped at the chance to read Sarah Manguso’s new novel when it was pitched to me. Very Cold People was one of my books of 2022. Written in spare, crisp prose, it’s a bleak novella about an abusive childhood, extraordinarily powerful. Liars is the equally bleak story of a dysfunctional marriage told from the perspective of the wife.
My life became archetypal, a drag show of nuclear familyhood. I got enmeshed in a story that had already been told ten billion times.
Jane and John met in their thirties at a film festival where one of John’s movies had been shown. Their relationship grows out of a powerful physical attraction. He suggests they both apply for a prestigious award which will involve a year’s residency in Athens but while she is given the prize for writing he fails to win the art prize, joining her after a few months. He’s unable to contain his jealousy, muscling in on her success, behaving badly, flirting outrageously and sulking, setting a pattern which continues throughout their relationship. Neither had planned to have children, but a few years after their marriage Jane becomes pregnant with their son. Feckless and inept, John leaves all things domestic to Jane. Her successful writing career stalls in the face of childcaring, homemaking and hauling John out of various scrapes, her financial dependence forcing her to trail after him as he moves from one job to another. After fourteen years of telling herself she should be grateful for her happy family, the financial security John has somehow delivered and the resurrection of her career, she’s faced with the truth of her marriage’s dysfunction.
I thought, If I had the energy I’d leave him, and then I folded up that little thought, wrapped it in gauze, and swallowed it.
There’s a feeling of autofiction about this novel, borne out by a little internet research, although to what extent isn’t clear. Manguso unfolds her fragmented narrative in stark, striking prose, each word precisely chosen as you’d expect from a poet. We have only one side of the story and there are occasional hints that John may not be the only liar, not least from the title, but Jane’s lies appear to be to herself, convincing herself that her marriage is all that it should be, that somehow she has escaped the traditional role of wifedom, and that she and John will grow old together in a mature relationship. At one point, having heard her account of the family’s many moves, John’s absences and his incompetence when he is present, a new neighbour says: ‘Why are you still with him?’. Her answer, at least to herself, is their child who seems all too aware of her unhappiness. It’s a tale of bad behaviour, manipulation, and misery. Manguso has chosen names for her protagonist which suggest that it’s not an uncommon one, although I’d like to think otherwise. A harrowing, extraordinary novel that will no doubt make it on to my books of the year list.
Picador Books London 9781529062762 272 pages Hardback (read via NetGalley)
I’m very interested to read this too, having read some of Manguso’s creative non-fiction about her chronic illness. Really glad to hear that you loved it. It seems to me that you’ve read a couple of books lately about dysfunctional marriages. I recall another where the narrator was the wife, but didn’t gain the readerly sympathy one might expect from that position! I wonder what makes the difference in Manguso’s novel? What makes it more successful?
That’s an interesting point, Victoria. You may be thinking of Moa Herngren’s Divorce in which both sides tell their story. I’d hoped for a more even-handed treatment with that structure but took sides very early. In Liars, it’s clear from the start that John is a feckless waste of space but Jane is besotted then dependent, convincing herself that theirs is a happy marriage. Manuguso’s writing is superb. Is there a particular piece of non-fiction you’d recommend?
This sounds a really tough read. I’m not sure I want to read it, although your comment about the stark prose does have me tempted…
It’s uncompromisingly bleak, I’m afraid, but the writing is so good. Best read when cheerful if you do plump for it.
I just found Very Cold People in a charity shop so I’ll be reading that first and maybe this one next.
I hope you like it. Brilliant writing although very bleak but I’m sure you know that!
I read a review of this yesterday, it sounds quite incredible though not easy I suspect to read about such a coercive, abusive relationship and the conditioning that keeps a woman in such a situation.
It’s a very tough read, made all the more so by Manguso’s spare prose and her narrator’s determination to convince herself that her marriage is happy. Highly recommended, though.
I suspect this is a book where the reader will be ‘yelling’ at Jane all the time to ‘see’ the truth and things for what they are. The John/Jane stuck me too and it’s sadly really that this (or at least things close to this) is commoner than we’d like.
I’d love it if you were wrong, Mallika, but I suspect you’re not. I was more yelling at John than Jane and relieved when she finally saw the reality of their relationship.
I’ve not come across Manguso’s work before. From your review, this sounds like a must-read: but definitely not on a bad day!
Best read when cheerful without a doubt.
I’ve not read her first novel, either: I’ll start there.
A very smart piece of writing but a bleak one, too. Enjoy isn’t the word but I hope you appreciate it
I’ve been reading and rereading lots of Manguso for a magazine profile of her oeuvre. I waited until I’d sent off my work and written my own blog review of Liars to come back and look at yours. I do admire her style in general and it’s the only thing that makes a painful story bearable. It’s been interesting to read her interviews relating to the book. She told the Guardian, “It’s incredibly disturbing that hundreds of people, in the first week of publication, have said of this domestic abuse novel: ‘This is exactly what all women have to deal with, thank you.’ For the most part, it’s been really interesting to see that I seem to have hit on a cultural sore spot.” Not my experience of marriage, luckily, so I’m not sure I can agree with her John/Jane Doe symbolism. I thought the New Yorker reviewer was astute to make a connection with the Mrs Bridges/Mr Bridges pair of novels, which I’ve not read, but we have the former coming up on our Literary Wives list.
That sounds like an interesting piece to write and research. I admired both novellas very much. I’d assumed she chosen her characters names to indicate the theme’s universality which given those responses suggests that may be depressingly accurate. Not my experience at all, nor anyone I know, or at least I hope that’s the case. I did feel there might be a thread of autofiction running through this one. Is that your impression?