Visible city pertains to an apartment building in NYC, where inhabitants peer from their windows to their neighbors' windows, and project their dreams and desires onto their neighbor's lives. Of course, what they see is the surface of each other, the conspicuous exterior. The running motif concerns the peeling of the veneers, to acutely reflect on their own lives and unearth their authentic self.
Leon, a therapist, is married to Claudia, a scholar of the sublime mural and stained glass artist, John LaFarge. Their grown daughter, Emma, is engaged, but ambivalent about her writer-fiancé, Steven. She is temporarily living with her parents since she broke her ankle, and is equivocal about her dissertation studies in French. Lately, she has noticed that her parents are not what they once seemed.
With a view onto their window, Nina perceives a life for Leon’s family that derives from her own imagination. Nina is married to a workaholic lawyer, Jeremy, who is trying to make partner, while she takes care of their two small children 24/7. She feels oppressed in the affected posture of parenthood, i.e. pretending consummate content. The contemporary parenting style incorporates the cardinal rule of never losing your temper, but beneath all this perfection lay terror.
“The only language spoken was certainty. Outwardly, she was reciting the maxims with everyone else: The kids were always delicious and she wouldn’t miss this for the world.”
Nina hides her restiveness, observing the masks of other mothers, while participating in this tacitly agreed temperament and language. Here with the other Upper West Side mommies, it is a sin to complain about motherhood.
In the midst of inescapable unease, there’s noisy construction next door, as old historic buildings are razed to make way for new steel and glass high-rises. Leon welcomes the new construction; Claudia is livid about the destruction of momentous old buildings, and periodically screams from her open window at the noise outside. Eventually, all these lives begin to entangle, and the boundaries between neighbors gradually dissolve.
The author is a sharp observer of the inner contradictions that denude people’s lives. This is demonstrated through the characters’ thoughts and inner dialogue. However, the intersecting of these individuals, which is the narrative purpose, is also the narrative’s shortcomings. The dialogue is stilted and prosaic; the emotional connections feel forced and cursory. The extended metaphor of La Farge’s stained glass--always dynamic, the colors in a continual state of creation when exposed to light-- can’t save this boilerplate story. I could not connect with any of the characters, because the emotional seams were weak, the interactions contrived.
This was a quick read, easily finished in a couple of sittings. Mirvis has a talent for the written word, for rendering passages that inspire introspection. I hope that her next novel provides fully dimensional characters and an original story.