“Every couple has its pacts, spoken or unspoken,” says Catherine, one of the narrators. “Ours is more twisted than most: I don’t cheat on my husband, while he only cheats on me with his models. And then only once, when the painting is finished. That way it doesn’t count. He owns up, I forgive him: that’s our pact. Sometimes I think it has served us well.”
In a series of alternating monologues, both halves of a couple examine close to 35 years of marriage. Years of togetherness, and of growing apart; of opening up the door to their studios, and of shutting each other out.
Best known as a literary critic and one of Canada’s foremost literary translators, Lori Saint-Martin delivers an elegant and refined debut novel that explores the mystery of what connects us to each other.
Lori Saint-Martin was a Canadian author and literary translator. Her first novel, Les Portes closes, came out in 2013. Working with her husband Paul Gagné, she translated over seventy English language books into French, including the works of such authors as Maya Angelou, Margaret Atwood, and Naomi Klein.
Formule intéressante. Deux côtés d'une même histoire, pas très original, mais bien reçue. J'ai bien aimé la simplicité de la trame narrative, malgré l'espèce de prétention des personnages (artistes, riches, intellos, etc). Les thèmes ne révolutionnent rien: jalousie d'être muse, sexuelle, d'être aiméE... vie mondaine, conciliation travail-famille, tromperie, etc. Tout de même divertissant. On apprend à aimer Catherine et Philippe malgré nous, les deux ont quelque chose de haïssable, mais sont tout de même attachantEs.
Très bien écrit. Des thèmes classiques mais avec un point de vue fort intéressant. L'amour, le couple, la famille et des questions existentielles auxquelles nous sommes tous confrontées. J'ai vraiment eu un coup de coeur pour ce roman.
In a series of alternating monologues, both halves of the couple then go on to examine close to 35 years of marriage. Of togetherness, and of growing apart; of opening up the door to their studios, and of shutting each other out.
On the surface, there’s something comfortably middle class about the years we spend with Philippe and Catherine, two artists still married but long since fallen out of love. Regrets, they’ve had a few. Secrets, too. Their cozy home looks down on Montreal and the St. Lawrence far below, far from the working-class neighbourhoods of Montreal that are perhaps more familiar to readers of Quebec fiction. They eat fusilli with red and yellow peppers and arugula salad. They sip on coffee as they tackle the New York Times crossword. There is talk of travel, and skirts brought home from Stockholm. We are far from the faubourg à m’lasse and pouding chômeur.
This, of course, is no bad thing. All that is remarkable about middle class families is how seldom they seem to pop up in contemporary Quebec literature. As we scrape back the layers, though, problems inevitably creep towards the surface: foundering friendships, betrayal, failing health, a mother who has lost her memory, death.
The theme of infidelity is central to both Les portes closes and Saint-Martin’s earlier collection of short stories, Lettre imaginaire à la femme de mon amant (An imaginary letter to my lover’s wife). But whereas Lettre imaginaire offered such a quick-fire succession of variations on the theme we were often left wondering who was cheating on whom again, and how much we cared, Les portes closes focuses on one husband and wife, with the odd aside from friends and family also struggling to remain faithful.
“Is that a boast or a confession?” Catherine wonders the first time Philippe admits to cheating on her, as he delivers the news to her “like a cat sets down a bloody bird at its owner’s feet.” This duality – both sides of the story – is everywhere, in a world in which girls have grown up “with celebrity divorces and often their parents’ divorces, too. They can’t imagine a party, or a penance, going on that long.”
So, which is it? Party or penance? And who is the victim? As Catherine points out, “There are many of them, only one of me. They move on, I get to stay.” Who’s in the right and who’s in the wrong? Philippe sleeps with his models because Catherine tricked him into having the children he was set against: a first, then twins, to boot! “It was one of the lowest blows of my life,” she concedes. “But not the worst, no, not the worst, just the worst he knew about.”
That’s what marriage is, Philippe concludes, for richer and for poorer, for better and for worse:
“Sitting across from the same person at almost every meal, sometimes as close as can be, sometimes barely able to see her but counting on her all the same, and sometimes seeing her so clearly and hating her so much you want her to shatter into pieces and knowing that perhaps she hates you back. Or that she hated you at a different time when you were looking at her fondly.”
There is a great deal to be fond of in Les portes closes: genuinely profound, well thought-out questions about relationships, characters that stay with us for a long time after we put down the book… In a word, it is impressive. It reminds me of a well-tended garden: considered, but not pretentious. It’s clear that a great deal of thought went into every word choice and yet the writing never feels overdone or self-conscious, just elegant and refined. It’s enough to make you want to call it Saint-Martin’s very own masterpiece.
Voici l'histoire d'un couple racontée avec justesse, tantôt du point de vue de la femme, tantôt de celui de l'homme. Deux protagonistes très différents l'un de l'autre, unis par une vie entière de rancunes, de non-dits et de trahisons accumulés mais aussi, par un attachement profond. J'ai trouvé ce récit très bien écrit et loin des clichés.
LES HAUTS : Des personnages dépeints avec une grande sensibilité et une plume très agréable...
LES BAS : L'intrigue se développe lentement et est un peu prévisible...
Un roman qui fait état d’une histoire d’amour. Tout ce qui a de plus banal. Mais l’originalité du livre c’est que l’histoire est racontée par les deux membres du couple. Ce qui donne une belle perspective.
Les très ou trop courts chapitres et moi, nous ne faisons pas bon ménage. En plus, je n'ai pas réussi à m'attacher ni à Philippe, ni à Catherine, ni à leur univers. Dommage...