Nom de Plume

One has certain expections from the author of Le Divorce, L’Affaire, and all those other les nouvelles — or should I be correct and say les autre nouvelles? You know, a wry skewering sense of humor, deft characterization … It’s far from flufff, but all les nouvelles have a certain lightness of touch. Lying Low, on the other hand, is completely different.

Written in 1978, Lying Low seems to be written by another person entirely. It’s really very interesting. There’s no question the novel is dated; it was rather like reading Alison Lurie. Still, it has a power all its own, and though I’m not going to say I liked reading it (it was really quite painful), it was also discovering the origins of a voice: more pensive, more concerned with the “life and death” matters.

The novel is about four people who share a house in a dusty California college town. Theo and her photographer brother Anton. Ouida, a South American woman dodging immigration, and Lynn (an assumed name) who has been roaming the country anonymously ever since she blew up a lab and killed a scientist.

Lynn is, of course, the lynchpin of the story: we follow as her separate identities start merging together and she realizes that the limbo she lives in is unsustainable. at the same time, however, she’s not the only person in hiding; instead, she is in some way emblematic of them all. The end is truly shocking, and I’m still not sure what to make of it.

One final musing: I wonder if Dana Spiotta read this before writing Eat the Document