Jessica Soffer’s This Is a Love Story is an exploration of a long marriage between an artist and a writer, played out against a New York City background. Knowing that she’s dying, Jane tells Abe she wants to remember their many decades together, the good times and the bad, many spent in their brownstone apartment overlooking Central Park.
You remember a moment when you realized we’d become what we’d always hoped. And at the same time, saying, I couldn’t have done it without you.
I remember walking so many, many, many streets with you. Eating so many meals, sharing a tres leches, two spoons. And drinking tea.
Jane and Abe met in 1967 in their early twenties, she intent on a career as an artist, he eventually succumbing to the pull of his father’s business, setting his writing aside. She had been insistent that they should both put their art above all else, refusing to live with him until he picked up his writing again. Jane excelled in every media she worked, from sculpture, to painting, to textile dyeing, while Abe became a prize-winning author, internationally feted. Her ambivalence about becoming a mother resolved itself after a miscarriage but when Max is born, she’s overwhelmed by an episode of postnatal depression which only re-immersion in her art eases. Max grows into a man, distant from his mother, wary of emotional involvement, hugely successful in his career as an art dealer. Now, in their final days together, no chance of another remission from the cancer first diagnosed when Max was only five, Jane devotes what little energy she has left to recounting her memories of their past to Abe.
You remember when the blaming started. You remember it wasn’t just Max. You remember the feeling – like we’d gone flat, distant, murky, like water left in a glass for too many nights in a row.
I’d been expecting a straightforward continuous narrative but Soffer’s novel is made up of a string of episodic vignettes, short paragraphs of Jane’s memories, narrated for us by Abe. It’s a style that takes some getting used to. The section narrated by Alice, Abe’s student with whom he had a brief connection which scars his marriage, jarred with me in a way Max’s section didn’t, casting light on his relationship with his parents. That said, the structure and style lend an intimacy to Soffer’s book together with an urgency as Jane becomes more diminished. Her writing is quite beautiful at times, conveying the depth of this relationship between two people, both flawed, deeply enmeshed in each other’s lives, one aware that he will soon be left alone. Interspersed with their story are brief sections devoted to Central Park where Abe and Jane have spent so many hours – another love story of sorts full of characters, nature, performance and celebration. It’s a place Soffer clearly adores. Not an easy novel to write about – I don’t feel I’ve entirely done it justice – but it’s one that will stay with me for some time.
Serpent’s Tail London 9781805224921 304 pages Hardback (read via NetGalley)
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Hmm. I’ll have to give this another go. I had it from the library, then because it was requested by A.N Other, I couldn’t renew it when I hadn’t got very far into it. It wasn’t grabbing me. From your account, it’s a book that maybe isn’t immediately a Must Read, but one that repays the effort as the narrative develops. Correct?
Yes, although it depends on how far in you were. I think it’s a style that will either click with you, or not. It took me a while to get used to it and I’m happy with fragmented narratives.
Hmm. I’ll think about it then!
Good idea!
I do like this narrative style, and the subject matter appeals.
I think this one would work for you, Cathy. Also art, writing, NYC…
I love the sound of this and I can see how this style adds to the feeling of intimacy; particularly that you found Alice’s voice jarring as that makes them individual characters, I think. I’ll have to wait for the paperback though!
I hope you find the style appealing. It’s quite fragmented but that reflects Jane’s gradual deterioration. I found it quite affecting.
This sounds like a beautiful novel, but not one I could read right now. I must admit, I hadn’t realised quite how many books are based on grief and mourning! But I think you did a lovely job with this review, Susan, and I certainly feel that I have a good grasp on the essentials of the novel thanks to you.
Thank you. It is wrenching as you can tell from that subtitle quote.
I really like the sound of this. The style sounds like it would suit Jane’s situation. I do like a New York setting too!
I do sometimes wonder if I’ll become bored by New York settings but it seems not!
I also like a New York setting. Interestingly, I was at an author talk this week for the launch of a book that is very much ‘Melbourne’. A comment was made about that and the author noted that it’s interesting how we say a book is ‘Melbourne’ or ‘Sydney’ and yet you never hear an author justifying why their book is set in New York, or saying it’s a very NYC’ story – true!
Ha! It’s become iconic hasn’t it.
This was on my ‘books to look forward to’ radar for this year – your review has made it a must-read 🙂
Delighted to hear that, Kate. I’ll be interested to know what you think of it. It took me a little while to get into but worth the effort.
Would this make an interesting companion for Penelope Lively’s Moon Tiger, I wonder? With some interesting alignments and divergences?
My memories of Moon Tiger are a bit dim, I’m afraid. Soffer’s narrative style is very different so it could work on a compare and contrast basis.