Main Brides

by Gail Scott

It is a hot June day. A woman sits in a bar in Montreal’s Main, waiting. Pushing down the disturbing scene (the police, a blanket) she saw that morning in the park. To focus herself, she tries to guess the stories of other women who come and go as the day darkens into night: the teenager Nanette; Adele of Halifax, who’s constantly on a train; a woman just back from Cuba; two lesbian lovers (one’s a “cowgirl”); Z., a performance artist; Norma jean from Toronto; the taunting radio voice of a woman promising a tango. Between the portraits, the woman watches and drinks and spins a setting for her “brides.” The question is, why does she keep deferring going home?

Genres: Fiction, Canada, Novels

240 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1993

Reviews

[Eugene · Rating 3 out of 5]

the female gaze. Lydia sits at a bar and describes what she sees and imagines, most often: herself, other women. (how's that for a plot!) a book of portraits, maybe a self-portrait, or maybe a book about portraiture--the ambiguity intentional and often successful as a statement about our success in ever describing completely an identity.

this book's project as defined by its narrator:
"Lydia (having trouble focusing) returns to her portrait: anecdotal fragments organized--but not too rigorously--with a little space around them to open possibilities" (167).

what saves the book from disintegrating into just fragmentary observations is scott's fearless and idiosyncratic style. the writing's syncopated and richly arch music reveals a persistent conflict between empathy and judgment, between a wish to define and a desire to stay open.

some of the best parts of the book come during a chapter whose content is the most traditional: the story of a springtime love affair. besides the quickly flaming and guttering of an april love, the chapter reveals rather strikingly the conflicts within the narrator: anecdotal versus analytical modes; english versus french ("You hate the way being with her makes you think so much in English, you lose the capacity for immediate abstraction that comes with speaking French"); a willingness to be self-critical or vulnerable versus a need to be defiant and judging.

and: the beauty of the writing. scott's a singular, fierce and unapologetic stylist. at its most courageous it can invoke and then overcome sentimentality. here's a passage again about that april love affair--a straightforward description of the sweet and deadly swiftness of it:

"Still April. You step outside. The sky is so blue you sense the infinity of dancing air. Around you the jonquils are laughing. Granted, this image is slightly sentimental. You can't help it, she's getting you so drunk with the caresses of her big hands, you feel like a giant. You rock your warm crotch against the cold cement, hoping that, with all that affection, she won't be pressuring you for commitment.
The truth is, already you feel a little trapped. Because of that day she, sitting on the brown sofa in the living-room of that tacky hotel apartment she temporarily rented, knees up to chin, talking on the phone to her lover from Alberta, suddenly declared: 'I'm in love, Betty.' You didn't intend to listen. You couldn't believe she was putting her main relationship in jeopardy: by no means had you said anything about commitment. Yet, grudgingly, you wondered what makes these young dykes so courageous. Always taking chances. The way she kissed you in that bar, until both of you were floating. Definitely, no fear of flying" (108-9).

[Jill · Rating 4 out of 5]

SO Montreal. SO '90s. alSO: poetic, enjoyable, and thoughtfully feminist.

[Stephanie · Rating 4 out of 5]

This was an interesting feminist read that turned the patriarchal male gaze on its head, and focused instead on women observing other women. I found the concept really fascinating, that Lydia, the protagonist of this novel eavesdrops on different women who enter her favourite bar, and each chapter is focused on these women's backstories in precise detail, as imagined by Lydia. Often these observations Lydia makes bleed into details of her own backstory, so it begs the question of where reality ends and fantasy begins. I also loved how this book's setting of Montreal explored the growing language and identity politics on the cusp of the second referendum for Quebec's separation (this book was published in 1993). These looming tensions cast a shadow over the bilingual city to this day, which makes this book still highly relevant. And of course as a Montreal native, I appreciated all the references to streets, landmarks, and the legendary arts scene. Another aspect I really appreciated was the exploration of the queer female identity. The fact that there were several lesbian characters in these stories made for great representation. And furthermore, I noticed how in the earlier stories, the queer characters seemed more reserved about expressing their identities, but in later stories, Lydia expresses her desire for multiple women, and the walking woman towards the end mentally declares herself as unambiguously a lesbian. The writing style of "Main Brides" was highly descriptive and poetic, and jumped between narratives, blurring the stories of some characters. While I appreciated many of the descriptions, particularly of the women's fashions, I find it made for a bit of a slower read. The experimental style of storytelling made reading this book almost like observing an art piece, so for me, this book was more thought-provoking and cerebral rather than entertaining, yet certain passages certainly kept me engaged, and always made me reflect. While not the most accessible read, I still really appreciated the experience of having read "Main Brides" and the thoughts and ideas behind it. I would give this a strong 3.5-light 4/5

[Onceuponadream · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5

[Dan · Rating 3 out of 5]

Acquired 1996
The Word, Montreal, Quebec