Nom de Plume

I have enjoyed other Hilary Mantel novels enormously. I didn’t enjoy this one. In fact, I hated reading it, but am not immune to its strength. And that raises an interesting question about books that are flawlessly constructed, well-written, and even powerful–but that you just don’t like. (Ultimately, it’s the same question of art: should a painting mean something or should it be aesthetically pleasing?) And perhaps this is a testament to Mantel’s skill: she takes you someplace you really don’t want to go, but you go anway.

At its heart, this is the story of two women who are paired together in an improbable way. Alison is a fat, sloppy psychic who has been visited by spirits ever since her childhood, which, by the way, was truly horrific. Colette is a thin, brisk woman who does everything by the book; she went to school, got a good job and married a man who would do. She is unhappy. After her divorce, she ends up on the psychic circuit looking for meaning. Feeling an instant bond with her, Alison offers Colette a job as her assistant.

Although Alison and Colette are absolute opposites — Alison is fat, forgiving, understanding, malleable; Colette is thin, unforgiving, and rigid — they have in common a lack of control in their respective worlds. Alison is tormented by the spirits of cruel men from her childhood, which means she can never move on. Colette is at odds with the modern world that surrounds her. When the two pair up, they give each other a glimpse into another world; perhaps this is what draws them together. The novel charts the time they spend together.

Colette goes to live with Alison, and eventually they move to an industrial wasteland in the middle of the countryside, a move that was calculated to lose the spirits. It works for a while, but ultimately the pasts of each catch up with them. It is only when they embrace their respective ghosts, for lack of a better word, that they achieve an uneasy compromise with the lives they must lead.