“Love Contains the dregs of Hate.”
A first time translation into English brings us Marguerite Duras’ The Impudent Ones. Published in 1943, this was the author’s first novel. I’ve only read the exotic ones; The Sea Wall is my favourite. It’s been ten years since I read that semi-autobiographical novel and I still think about it (and the incredible film version). The Impudent Ones and The Sea Wall are both stories of family politics, and sisters whose sexuality may benefit the family unit, but the similarities stop there.
The Paris-based blended Grant-Taneran family consists of Mr and Mrs Taneran, their son Henry and Mrs Grant Taneran’s two children from her first marriage: Maud and Jacques Grant. Mr Taneran, who married the widow late in his life is “stooped” with “despondent eyes.” And it doesn’t take long to figure out why he looks so beaten up. For financial reasons, he’s working again after retirement, but it’s not all bad: he can “escape the tyranny of his family and felt quite pleased about it.” He’s afraid of Jacques and when he married the widow, he thought that Jacques would leave the family soon. Fat chance. Jacques is always in “need of cash,” and when he gets any he “spent recklessly.” Jacques married and lived off his wife’s money for a while, but surprise, surprise, that source went dry. Constantly sponging off the family, Jacques has all bills directed to his mother, and she gives him just enough money to keep him coming back in a co-dependent fashion.
The novel opens with the family dealing with the news that Jacques’ wife is dead, and her death opens the door for more borrowing. Maybe it’s a good excuse. Maybe it’s genuine. (I’ll go with the former.) The bank is dunning Jacques for money, and the family go to the country, to Uderan, in southwest France. The Grant-Tanerans own a property here, and since a heavy fog of lethargy hovers around the family (from page one) it’s no surprise to find out the country property is falling into decay. The family lived there years ago, but the place was in a bad state when they bought it, and since they are not farmers, the place gets worse.
In the country, Maud’s presence stirs up passions. She is courted by two men: John Pecresse, and George Durieux, but the novel’s lethargy continues to be reflected in the characters’ actions. Will Maud marry one of these men? Will her family approve?
Boredom is mentioned in the novel, and the author certainly creates that atmosphere, but unfortunately it oozes through the plot which, as a result, is uninteresting. The family is toxic, a thoroughly miserable lot who loathe each other. The characters are unpleasant and it was impossible for this reader to care. The story is told with strong exposition; imagine someone sitting opposite you telling you about these incidents, and that’s how the story feels. Makes me think of that well-worn fiction writer advice “show not tell.” Too much telling here.
Jacques began going out again and taking back the upper hand he had in the household from which the death of his wife had momentarily exempted him. Since this event, on the other hand, he had become more and more difficult, hardly being able to stand the presence of Taneran at the table. Even if Jacques went out as much as before, he did not want it to be said that he suffered less for his loss which is why he feigned an exasperation intended to simulate sorrow.
It’s the sort of story when I long for some drama–instead of this insipid behaviour of family members. The family is funded by Mr Taneran who is undermined by his wife and bullied by his stepson. Great potential. Very complicated family politics are the best aspect of the novel.
Review copy. Translated by Kelsey L. Haskett. I listened to the audio version which was beautifully read by Suzanne Toren