This original and deeply moving novel tells the story of fifty-one-year-old mother of two, Katharine Rowan and the discovery of her body lying at the foot of the stairs in her home by her thirty-year-old lifestyle journalist daughter, Laura. In the aftermath of her death Laura is plunged into grief, unable to move on and resume her part in the life that continues apace around her. As she retreats into solitude she pieces together the clinical details of her mother’s life and alongside these stark facts offers up a moving testimony to her mother’s life. In a slow burning partial memoir a tapestry of Katharine’s life is formed through nuanced reflections and the gentle probing of her own memories and of her mother’s friends by Laura and, as such, her grief is marked by some surprising discoveries. Only through her mother’s death can Laura recognise she was a woman shoehorned into a marriage and a life that she never chose and whose admirable silence and refusal to challenge the status quo was the steady constant in her own upbringing.
In the cold light of day the details of scars and past broken bones contained in the post-mortem report do not paint a vivid picture or explain Katharine’s story, but Lodato drills down and puts flesh on the bones with Laura seeking out her mother’s best friend, Helen, former colleague, Nicola and husband, Richard and making these relevance evident. Through a patchwork of memories only now analysed by a mature Laura, can she weave together the bigger story of Katharine’s passage from childhood through to middle-age and sudden death. Each distinct chapter is opened with a hook in the form of an introductory extract from the post-mortem report and this is used as a springboard for part of Katharine’s story. Whilst some have applicable and very obvious relevance, others such as “nostrils unobstructed” and “larynx intact” have no bearing of the unfolding story and feel a tad out of place. Most notably mined and duly explored are the story of the torn earlobe which signalled the start of husband Richard’s affair, the Caesarean section which marked the complete breakdown in the pretence of any marital harmony and the fractured ulna which ensured Laura’s birth.
Katharine’s most precious secret becomes apparent almost on outset, but somehow this does nothing to diminish the effectiveness of this literary debut. Eloquent and insightful, Laura’s effortlessly witty and irreverent narrative is not without a wry humour and her reflections on only latterly realising how precious her mother was to her are beguiling honest with her emotions writ large, be they anger, pity or frustration. I thought Laura was well-realised as her quest for answers to the conundrum of her mother’s life gives rises to markedly uneven emotions which are reflected in her dealings with friends, boyfriends and her mother’s best friend, Helen. In this sense Lodato makes clear just how frustrating Laura’s grief and her inability to reconcile her mother’s death makes her, and at times she is self-pitying and ungrateful. For being a perspicacious modern woman with a career filled with chronicling observations on society and the changing world I did feel that she had ample opportunity to have recognised Katharine’s secret before now. Given that Katharine herself tried to offer up the truth, albeit in very vague terms, perhaps Laura was unwittingly blinkered to the reality of her parents marriage and reluctant to acknowledge her mother’s true identity. Interestingly she seems loathe to allow anyone else a claim on her mother, even in death, and I am unsure that would have welcomed a more honest version of the mother she knew in life.
My overriding reservation about this brilliant and poignant novel are the lapses into Katharine’s life from childhood, leaving school and through to Laura’s own conception which disconcerting come as part of Laura’s own narrative. Given Laura’s search for understanding is inspired by how little she realises she knew about her mother, a woman of tightly bound emotions, and these incidences were both prior to her own birth and unspoken of during the course of her mother’s life, they felt a little contrived. Ideally these insights with their huge emotional resonance would have felt more fitting coming by way of Katharine’s mother, husband or best friend. The belated intervention of Met police officer, DS Jane Marsh, feels fitting given the direction that the novel is headed towards and has a rather pitiful truth to it, but is thankfully rather superficially referred to and therefore prevents the story taking a more unsavoury turn. These revelatory details make apparently clear just how Katharine’s journey is in many ways a modern version of her favourite novel, Tess of the d’Urbervilles, the original tragedy of a young girl “wronged by parent and man”.
As Laura comes to realise that the asperity of her indomitable grandmother, Judy, set in motion a repressed life for Katharine she is confronted with the truth that her mother’s silence masked a profound internal conflict and a life of lurking in the shadows, reluctant to ever emerge into the woman she might have been. As Laura discovers more about her mother she finds that the truth simultaneously provides a “slow uncovering of an uncomfortable past” and brings a sadness, peace and contentment all of its own.
An intelligent and nuanced study of loss with Elisa Lodato’s impassioned prose with a bitter-sweet conclusion that left me both profoundly moved and in a reflective mood. I confess to shedding a tear, and look forward to seeing where the clearly talented Lodato turns to for her next literary outing.