I was in two minds about reading Miriam Robinson’s And Notre Dame is Burning, attracted by the idea of a fragmented, non-linear narrative which I often enjoy but wondering if it might be too ambitious for a debut. Robinson’s novel follows Esther over five years or so in which time seems to flatten for her as she works her way through the aftermath of a miscarriage and the break-up of her marriage.
I thought I was in the story of my marriage. The words look the same on the page, the binding, the feel of the paper between thumb and forefinger; it’s all the same. But I have been in someone else’s story – playing a bit part, at that – all along.
Esther met Ravi, not his name but she thinks it will do, over a decade ago when she was living in Paris. Theirs was a romantic start, Ravi visiting her from London until they marry six months later in Camden Town Hall, far from Esther’s Denver home, with just a handful of guests. Several years later, Annie is born. Ravi’s career has taken a knock thanks to the imprisoning of an activist, the subject of a documentary he’d been working on when he met Esther, but he supports her plans to write a novel which will draw on her family history. She’s a teller of stories which Annie avidly consumes. When Esther miscarries, the grief and the worry about dashing Annie’s longing for a sister are complicated by the knowledge of Ravi’s betrayal. Esther seeks answers and solace, turning to books, friends and a therapist but knows that she cannot forgive him until Ravi says he’s sorry, recording her struggles in what will become a book to be published five years after her loss.
Our first kiss wasn’t actually the night of the lunar eclipse. It was the next night. But I like the story better that way.
All that sounds quite straightforward but as Esther explains, she sometimes moves events to fit her own chronology having lost the sense of linear time. She delivers her story in a series of letters – most addressed to the child she miscarried, some to the Eves she feels invaded her life and her body thanks to Ravi’s infidelity, a few to herself and others, and one or two to Ravi – peppered with short observations. It’s an tricky structure for a debut and I’m not entirely sure it works but it does fit the disordered, inward-looking mind of someone struggling with emotional turmoil. Her portrayal of the anger, grief and hurt at betrayal, the inability to hide it and the angst at the effect on Annie are painfully well done. Miscarriage is a difficult subject and there are some visceral scenes which may well make very tough reading for some. So, still in two minds, but I’ll be interested to see what Robinson does next.
Corsair Books: London 9781472159717 368 pages Hardback (read via NetGalley)
I’m interested in the title, as your introduction to the story told here doesn’t seem to feature that great cathedral. I may have to read it to find out … though I’m not necessarily tempted.
It’s barely mentioned in the novel, more symbolic than anything else. Very keen to see the restoration although I’ll probably leave it a few years.
Ditto. Queuing is teh name of the game, I think.
Exactly!
I’m not sure about this one, but it does sound like she’s trying for something interesting.
I did wonder if her own experience played into it which would be very sad.
Hmmm, the way you’re describing her handling of time really interests me here. And also the idea that you’ve mentioned (in the comments) that the burning IRL is rarely mentioned. Which is kind of how we do experience “major events” like that. They are ever present in one way, sometimes their symbolic importance endures, and, yet, you don’t necessarily even speak about them to other people.
I was intrigued by blurb’s description of time flattening, a distortion that fits the effects of her doubled grief well. I had expected the title to be more significant than it seemed but perhaps I missed something.
Sounds like a complex storyline. I am hoping to go to Paris latter part of month so French themed literature is what I will be reading for August. And I want to see Notre Dame but concerned about the queues. I don’t think my other half will be on for a marathon like that!
I think I’d find it hard to resist if I was in Paris. Enjoy your holiday. I’m sure you’ll find lots to read. There’s always Shakespeare and Company to visit if you run out!