A Separation

3.5

For anyone looking for "the next Gone Girl" ( a comparison I am getting very tired of at this stage), this isn't it. And it isn't a "literary Gone Girl" either. Critics need to come up with alternative means of describing emerging books about marriage containing female narrators. Okay, end of rant.

Katie Kitamura's third book, A Separation, is like the anti-mystery. We have all the right ingredients of a mystery (or thriller) - a dead body, evidence of a violent crime, a trail of clues, a couple of suspicious characters and a little queue of mourners - but we lack the tool needed to dig deeper for us. In this interesting take on a "murder mystery", nobody feels compelled to pursue the investigation. This novel seems to assume that some things, particularly about human nature, are best left unknown. This could be considered both a refreshing and interesting take on the genre, or a complete frustration.

This story opens with 30-ish woman accepting a phone call from her mother-in-law, Isabelle, inquiring after the whereabouts of her son, who has been on holidays in Greece but now isn't answering his phone. What Isabelle doesn't know (and is never told) is that our narrator and her son have been separated for six months and our narrator hasn't spoken to him in a month. Colour me intrigued. Despite all of this, our narrator agrees to go to Greece and try to locate him. After a few days at the hotel where he was staying, we discover that her husband, Christopher, is actually dead (this isn't really a spoiler, from how I read it).

As this novel unfolds, we learn more and more about Christopher, at the same time that our narrator does. Kitamura slowly unravels the other sides to him, very cleverly building a stunning meditation on marital estrangement, infidelity and the unknowability of one’s spouse. This is a sparse novel and while it is muted in its approach, it is constructed excellently, slowly unspooling in a cool and subtle manner.

I would consider this a psychological novel. Kitamura focuses on a spouse's "what if" ponderings as opposed to the "whodunit" element (the most pivotal being the narrator's examination of how her life and responsibilities in this grieving process would have played out differently if she had revealed to her in-laws that her and Christopher were separated). Kitamura pulls at strings that are never quite unravelled, leaving many an unanswered question. If you can handle this, A Separation makes for a very satisfying, if unsettling, read.

A quiet and subtle portrait of marriage, loss and grief.

A Separation was not what I expected, but I ended up liking it once I got in the right head space. As described, this is a book about infidelity and a marriage that falls apart. But what surprised me was the way in which the topic is approached. It's a very subjective meditative piece written from the perspective of the unnamed wife. Following her recent separation from her husband Christopher, she is called upon by her mother in law to go find her ex on a Greek Island. Once there, the narrator pieces together what Christopher has been up to while reflecting on their marriage and her current circumstances. There's something almost cold in the way in which the narrator evaluates and assesses every interaction, thought and feeling. But the lack of sentimentality allows for some interesting complicated emotions and insights. And just when I thought that this was a novel in which not much happens, something big does happen and the story and perspective pivot dramatically. As I write this review, I've talked myself into a 4 star rating. This won't be for everyone -- I certainly didn't particularly like any of the characters-- but I felt myself drawn in and interested. Thanks to Netgalley and the publisher for an opportunity to read an advance copy.

A novel packed with beautiful observational prose which probes the essence of emotional integrity

A wonderful novel containing inspired prose which flows flawlessly. The pages seem to fly by as we venture on a journey to declare separation which leads to unexpected death and widowhood.
The author's writing style is different: all speech is narrated through the first person, Christopher's wife. She is a translator but seemingly useless when it comes to expressing her own thoughts out loud. They remain in her head or are expressed through writing. Indeed her career as a translator absolves the narrator of self expression. The novel examines the durability or otherwise of relationships and compromises that often have to be made along the way.
The story is simple: Christopher's wife travels to Greece to advise her estranged husband of only 5 years that she wants a divorce. But when she arrives she finds her husband is missing and days later he is found dead presumed murdered. Christopher's wife suspects hotel staff know more about the murder than they admit. However, any suspicions she has are locked away and only we as readers are privy to her thoughts. Her own position is compromised by a relationship she is in with Yvan, a one time friend of Christopher. Kitamura is amazing with some excellent observational prose.
The storyline is set amongst a background of wanton destruction - grass fires set by arsonists compare to the pointless loss of life of her husband. Isabella and Mark, Christopher's parents, are cold in emotions and yet we are forced to empathise with their loss as they grieve the loss of their only child.
An exceptionally good contemporary work of fiction, which explores emotions and self-expression. A delightful read. This is a relatively short novel and the reader is left questioning the durability and sentiment that underpin relationships.