Christine Mangan writes the story of 'The Continental Affair' with eloquence, just as skillfully as her two previous novels. What begins as a chance meeting between individuals becomes a knotted web of attraction and whispers, a cat-and-mouse game across the continent, eventually coming to a reluctant end in Istanbul.
Mangan's characters are, as always, complex beings, their present-day selves stained with the choices of their past, either trying to hide or admit their wrongdoings, so that they may continue forward without the weight of guilt upon their shoulders. And the wrongdoings of the novel's two main characters, Louise and Henri, are not easily marked as such. The lives of either character are steeped in familial and national trauma, Louise living with the pain of abusive parent(s) and Henri fleeing from a past of difficult decisions made during employment as a 'gendarme'. The effects of the Algerian Revolution rage around them too, affecting Henri's identity, tagging him as an outsider; Louise as well, marked as an outsider, her relationships (with family, friends, and enemies) never offering a break from the idea that she doesn't 'actually' belong.
Mangan's wordplay and sentence structure allow for a level of close reading that reveals more with each sequential study of a phrase. Though one may become tangled in her lengthy sentences at times (I was, though not too frequently), it is an insignificant issue when compared to the focus said sentences give to even the most (seemingly) insignificant of details. The story is not one of grand proportions; you should not expect to become wrapped in new and odd names or innumerable locations, requiring a map in the first few pages or a glossary in the back. Rather, this novel's story takes place in only a few days, the characters travelling from train station to bus stop, restaurant to inn, monument to mosque. And you, as the reader, follow just as closely behind, wondering what the future will hold or what information from the past may be revealed. It can be difficult to become fully enthralled with a title that jumps back and forth between characters' perspectives—many authors have tried and failed—but Mangan's decision to do so with 'The Continental Affair' is, in my opinion, correct. This technique doesn't allow for one character to become the favorite, instead offering glimpses into the psyche of either, so as to understand both as full humans (with flaws, of course).
The title is not without fault though, as the pacing of it may be too slow for some readers. One may become anxious with the speed of plot point revelations, purposefully skipping points to ease the number of dense, menial descriptions of rather ordinary objects. The characters don't always act as one might expect and their reasonings for doing so may not be revealed till it is too late, the reader losing interest in the specific action through the following lines. And the perspective that is written isn't always as descriptive of seemingly relevant information as I would've liked. Scenes that seem awfully important don't always do the best job of describing character placement or the overall timeline of actions, instead opting to (as one might expect, given what I have noted) describe an object's material or the atmosphere's smell with exquisite detail.
In its totality, Christine Mangan's 'The Continental Affair' is ripe with luxurious expositions, offering an atmosphere and character personalities that are quite believable and alluring. Like her previous titles, one may find themselves eager to dive between the lines of text, so as to romp through the cafes, bars, and streets that Mangan describes so effortlessly. Or perhaps one might suddenly take up the hobby of cooking, hoping to indulge on the very same dishes that Louise eats at unknown restaurants, or within the bustling cars of the train that carries her as far from her past as she can manage. There is a comfort in Mangan's writing that I have yet to experience with any other. I implore any that wish to be whisked away for some time to read this title, as the journey—from Granada to Paris, from Belgrade to Istanbul, from foe to ally, from stranger to lover—is able to do just that.