'A novel of tremendous beauty . . . A wonderful achievement' Sarah Waters
'A beautiful and extraordinary book' Philip Pullman
When Suzanne, a shy 17-year-old, meets the brilliant but troubled Lucie in rural Provence at the turn of the twentieth century, the two young women embark on a clandestine love affair. But they soon long for greater freedom.
The lovers move to Paris where they recreate themselves entirely, as Claude Cahun and Marcel Moore. Before long, they are mixing in the most glamorous social circles and producing art of great power and strangeness.
But the world is rapidly darkening around them. With war looming they leave Paris for Jersey, and it is here that they confront their destiny, dreaming up a campaign of propaganda against Hitler's occupying forces that will put their love - and even their very existence - in jeopardy.
From one of our most celebrated writers, Never Anyone but You explores the gripping true story of two extraordinary women who smashed gender boundaries and ultimately risked their lives to overcome oppression. Theirs is a story that has been hidden in the margins of history - until now...
Rupert Thomson, (born November 5, 1955) is an English writer. He is the author of thirteen critically acclaimed novels and an award-winning memoir. He has lived in many cities around the world, including Athens, Berlin, New York, Sydney, Los Angeles, Amsterdam, and Rome. In 2010, after several years in Barcelona, he moved back to London. He has contributed to the Financial Times, the Guardian, the London Review of Books, Granta, and the Independent.
Oh, I was really primed to like this one. The subject matter is fascinating: two real-life young women, Suzanne Halberde and Lucie Schwob, refuse to be tied down to gender identification and expectations. Changing their names to Marcel and Claude, they reinvent themselves, collaborating on avant-garde texts, and hobnobbing with the glamourous and creative in Paris.
I know that Rupert Thomson is a gifted writer, having read Katherine Carlyle, his last book. And indeed, this one is well-written too. But I couldn’t help but reflect that Mr. Thomson seemed shackled by his research material. The scenes set in Parks often felt as if I were ingesting a smorgasbord of names, from Andre Breton to Philippe Soupault to Louis Aragon and Paul Eluard. Without much background into the artists and poets of that time period, I felt as if I were an outlier to the scenes rather than a witness.
Claude (aka Lucy) is meant to be the charismatic one in the pair and yet my grasp of her is of someone who is unbalanced; the sheer energy of the character doesn’t shine through. I have little doubt that Mr. Thomson researched Claude and Marcel and the time period mightily, but I couldn’t help but wish that he had listened more to his muse and liberated them from the cold facts that comprise their background. I wanted to be privy to more of their thoughts and feelings rather than their actions.
Later, as they confront the gathering monstrosities of the German invasion, the novel begins to take flight. But for me, it was a little too late.
There are innumerable unsung and compelling figures from history who never quite achieved the fame or long-lasting influence you’d expect. One of my favourite books from the past few years is Megan Mayhew Bergman’s collection of short stories “Almost Famous Women” which fictionalizes the stories of several striking women who were figures of marginal significance in their times but not widely remembered. A couple of her tales deal with people around the notoriously vibrant art scene in Paris between the Wars. In Rupert Thomson’s wonderful new novel he reimagines the lives of two particularly fascinating women from this period. Lucy Schwob and Suzanne Malherbe were a life-long couple both born into prosperous intellectual families in France near the turn of the century. They were artists and progressive thinkers who questioned static gender roles in the way they presented themselves and by adopting the gender-ambiguous names Claude Cahun and Marcel Moore. We follow their lives from childhood to mingling with significant Parisian artists to their dangerous anti-Nazi activism in occupied Jersey to the post-War years. It’s a sweeping and thrilling novel that gives an entirely new perspective of early 20th century Europe and a powerful account of a significant long-term same sex love affair.
Like I think the majority of people who will be drawn to this biographical novel, I had never heard of the real life protagonists - but they sure lived a fascinating life as early Surrealists, Resistance fighters, and for over forty years, step-sisters and lovers. The only other Thomson book I've read is his startling 'The Book of Revelation', and like that, this benefits from a cool, precise, yet lyrical prose style, well suited to the subject of two 'gender outlaws'.
My major quibble with it, is that it took me a long time to get into the book, and there were some definite longueurs along the way; a book of this length should have only taken me 2 or 3 days to finish, and this one took me six.
Just for fun, check out these very short films on YouTube about Claude and Marcel's work:
Rupert Thomson’s Never Anyone But You made me ask a question I have never had to ask of a book before. Why was this story written as a novel? The book tells the story of Claude Cahun and Suzanne Malherbe, artists and lovers who weathered the Surrealist Movement and World War II, following them from 1909 to 1972. A novel about their love and co-dependency and art and subversion should have been fascinating—and yet, the way it’s written, this book is dry. Many parts read like straight biography with interruptions of dialogue. Never Anyone But You is narrated by Suzanne (who sometimes uses the name Marcel Moore), but I never felt like I was inside her head or inside their lives...
Read the rest of my review at A Bookish Type. I received a free copy of this book from the publisher via Edelweiss, for review consideration.
A very moving story about love but not in a romance kind of way. It's about the friendship and love of two girls spanning decades. I was personally touched by the self-isolation they inadvertently created as I am a bit of a recluse, for better or worse. Fair warning to those that need a plot that this novel might not be for them as it is a slow pace. But if you like human stories then definitely give this a try.
I feel like this is a first draft of something really interesting, but simply not quite there yet. I was, like others here, primed for the (true) story of Lucie and Suzanne, their art, rebellion and love. I always love the story of an unsung woman. I’m a sucker for an island. And I do really admire the way that Rupert Thomson slides into a character so convincingly (thanks to Jane Parsons!).
I’m sure that Thomson has lovingly researched this and filled the gaps with impeccably well considered, spirited attempt to find the words for these weird, tiresome, extraordinary, brave, rather avant-garde women. But Jeeeeez- those early chapters in Paris are dull. I genuinely feel like I deserved something just for keeping reading. The list of names, artists, posers, writers, thinkers, lovers.......endless like a Wikipedia entry. It must have felt like essential context- to establish the credentials of women you have frankly never heard of - they were among greatness, influenced by and influencing- even if only snapshot in passing, Dali, Breton......
A review below posts helpful links to A couple of YouTube videos of Suzanne’s very striking photos of Lucie. I didn’t see them until AFTER I’d finished, and perhaps I should have done a bit more homework. But ...well that’s the problem really- instead of writing this in such a way that it draws you in to something you didn’t know about, encapsulates you and gives you something of it- the first two thirds are weirdly jarring, angular, excluding. At the end of the book- Suzanne, talking about their relationship says -‘We were so excluded, we became exclusive’ - and yes, that’s entirely the sense Thomson captures. I always felt like I hadn’t done my homework. I felt shifty about not really knowing who was who, what was what.
And then finally- the relief of that last third. Their rebellion work on the island, capture and jail time. The justified, painful, damaged love in freedom- followed by the ethereal remainder of Suzanne’s time on earth.
Argh. I want so much more from this- and I feel left out and irritated. Humph.
Like some other reviewers, I’m not entirely sure of the point of telling this true story of these two strong, independent and unconventional women as fiction. They are engaging characters but, for me their story fell into four parts. Their early family connection and subsequent love affair was fascinating and well told. Likewise, the section where they are trapped on Jersey during the Nazi occupation and find their own subtle means of resistance was suspenseful and cast an interesting light on a lesser known area of the 2nd world war. However, their period spent living among the artistic and literary community in Paris is somewhat formulaic and consisted of a long list of well and lesser known characters flitting in and out. And then, the final section, after Claude has died tended to drag as she is the more interesting of the two women.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Rupert Tomson is a very creative writer. I am surprised that he is not more well known. I thoroughly enjoyed this book. Liked it even more when I learned it was based on real life.
Paris in the 1920s: for Americans this phrase tends to evoke the U.S. expatriates who spent time there, including Gertrude Stein, Hemingway, and Fitzgerald. But most of the people who created the magical atmosphere that attracted all those foreigners were, of course, French natives. Rupert Thomson's tenth novel is a fictionalized portrait of two real-life Frenchwomen who participated in the artistic life of that place and time, and went on to play an equally significant part in the resistance to Nazi occupation.
The central characters of this story--Lucie Schwob and Suzanne Malherbe--were both born in the coastal town of Nantes in the last decade of the nineteenth century to fairly wealthy families who moved in the same social circles. Suzanne, who narrates the novel, is a shy, artistic girl nearing 17 when her mother takes her on a 1909 visit to the Schwob househol. She encounters Lucie Schwob, who immediately becomes her closest friend. Lucie is about two years younger, but is generally the dominant figure in the relationship, and is a born nonconformist, with literary ambitions and strong opinions about everyone and everything. She suffers from anorexia and suicidal tendencies which occasionally lead to supposedly accidental overdoses of ether and other drugs. Some of her problems may stem from a traumatic childhood: When she was four her mother had a mental breakdown and spent the rest of her life in various asylums and sanatoriums. A few years later, Lucie was bullied and beaten by anti-Semitic schoolmates during the Dreyfus affair, after which she was sent away to a school in England.
After a couple of years Lucie and Suzanne become lovers, a relationship that will endure. Though Lucie, impetuous as always, would like the world to know, Suzanne points out that this would almost certainly result in their being separated and perhaps even institutionalized. In Lucie's opinion, they are not lesbians--just two people who love each other. She considers herself what would today be called gender-fluid--often, but not always, dressing in men's clothes and wearing a short haircut. She decides to take a gender-neutral name (Claude Cahun) and urges Suzanne to do the same. Suzanne becomes Marcel Moore for artistic purposes, though most people continue to call her Suzanne.
The Great War brings many changes to their lives, including the death of Suzanne's father. After a decent interval, Claude's father quietly divorces his institutionalized wife and marries Suzanne's mother. They are suddenly stepsisters, and when Claude's father, who appreciates Suzanne's stabilizing effect on his daughter, encourages them to live together, they are delighted to follow his suggestion. Claude, who has spent time at the Sorbonne, urges Suzanne to join her in Paris, where no one will care about their relationship.
Now in their 20s, they settle into their new home just as the surrealist movement is developing, and soon become friends with writers and artists, such as Andre Breton, Robert Desnos, Sylvia Beach, and Salvador Dali. Claude and Suzanne make their own artistic and literary contributions as well, and in particular their avant-garde photography attracts attention. Most of the photos feature Claude, and she usually makes the decisions about costumes and poses, but it is generally Suzanne behind the camera, so their art, like their relationship, is a collaborative effort.
As the heady 1920s become the more somber 1930s, Claude and Suzanne are increasingly alarmed by Hitler's rise to power, particularly given Claude's part-Jewish heritage, and in 1937 they make the decision to move to the isle of Jersey in the English Channel. They buy a house there and leave Paris behind, but by 1940 France is under Nazi occupation, and the Germans take control of the Channel Islands, where Hitler plans to launch his invasion of Britain.
Claude and Suzanne are repulsed by their new overlords, and Claude soon hatches a plan to use a hidden pistol to assassinate the German commandant--thus accomplishing a blow to the Nazis and her own long-anticipated suicide simultaneously. Ever-practical Suzanne points out that Claude is a terrible shot and that her act would certainly lead to reprisals against other innocent people. They come up with an alternate scheme--a propaganda campaign in which they use their typewriter and carbon paper to produce demoralizing flyers and leaflets, which they sneak into spots to be found by German soldiers. For nearly four years, they carry out this project in complete secrecy, working at night and venturing out during the day dressed as ordinary middle-aged island women, who won't attract much attention. Despite the hardships of the war years, this is perhaps the most fulfilling period of their lives: They are collaborating on their most important work of art--one in which they tacitly acknowledge their willingness to die for a cause--and for each other.
The 1940s chapters also form the most involving and moving section of this necessarily episodic but beautifully written novel. Rupert Thomson has unearthed a piece of World War II history that deserves to be better known--and would make a terrific film.
Reviewed by Robert Anderson, Librarian, Literature & Fiction Department
I read ‘Never Anyone But You’ during a bout of insomnia and subsequent fug of sleep deprivation. I’ve got a pretty good instinct for insomnia reading and this was well suited to the purpose. (Now I kind of want to write a taxonomy of what’s best to read while experiencing different types of insomnia, but that’s just the tiredness talking.) Thomson’s writing style is elegant, cool, and somehow distant, unusually so for a first person narrative. The plot centres on the four-decade love story of two women in the early part of the twentieth century. Initially they live together in Paris and mix with artists, surrealists, and the demi-monde, before moving to the island of Jersey where they see out the Second World War. Although the pre-war chapters are atmospheric and evocative, it is the war years that really bring out the character voices and dramatic tension. This part stands out as the clear highlight of the book. Indeed, it could easily have been extended and earlier material reduced. The war’s legacy in Jersey is also beautifully delineated in a few simple scenes, which impressed me. I doubt this was intended as a War Novel, though. It’s a story of love and art, meditative in tone.
Given aforementioned coolness and distance, I would perhaps have found the love story a little lifeless had it not been for the excellent, nuanced portrayal of mental illness. I found the parade of surrealists much less interesting and visceral than Lucie’s struggles with her mind, seen through the eyes of her partner. Perhaps as a result, I felt slightly uncomfortable upon remembering that Lucile and Suzanne are fictionalised real people. ‘Never Anyone But You’ makes their life together compelling, yet gives it a novelistic veil that I’d be loath to rip off by reading non-fiction about them. Odd how that sometimes happens.
Odporúčam aby ste si ju prečítali. Kniha zanechala veľa pocitov, hlavne pozitívnych a priznávam sa , chcem ďalej čítať podobné skutočné príbehy, o umení, vojne a hlavne keď láska ukazuje iné podoby, ktoré musíme rešpektovať a prijať.
My dumbass decided to read this book at 2am in the morning. The potential for this story was astronomical. However, I put this book down disappointed and slightly confused. My question being, why was it written as a fictional story?? Like brother you could have written a biography and left it at that.
Tbh, I deserve an award for getting through this book as much as I did. There was so much name dropping I simply wanted to throw my kindle at the wall. That's without mentioning the amount of concern I had for Claude and confusion for the way no one for one second thought that maybe they should help the suicidal person seek help. Instead everyone was just like "oH tHAt's jUsT CLaUDe bEinG ClAUde" as if she was simply talking to herself, singing in the shower or some shit like that.
Plus it was just boring. I didn't even get halfway through the book before I sighed, skipped to the end (sinful I KNOW but what was I meant to do?? Bore myself to death?) and stuck it through those final pages. I hate to say the end wasn't much better.
So do I recommend this book to anyone? Well, let me leave y'all with one last thought: I only felt pure relief when the book finished.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
The pick for our February bookclub, I was looking forward to getting into the true story of Claude Cahun and Marcel Moore. The book chronicles how they maintained a relationship spanning two world worlds and several decades, avoiding suspicions around their hidden sexuality whilst tackling their own personal struggles.
It's immediately apparent that the author had a pretty big task on his hands but in the end, the narrative got lost in the ambition. What should've been a tender retelling of an elaborate love story got bogged down by the countless references to famous people orbiting the Parisian creative scene of the time, the many forgettable places that they visited and a jumpy timeline that was difficult to keep track of.
Thankfully, there were several moments where the real story got to shine - the tension and beauty of Claude and Marcel's relationship, the portrayals of mental illness and commentary on gender identity were some of the bright spots for me, but I just wish there'd been more time dedicated to those explorations.
this book took me 8 years (oops, DAYS) to read, partly because I feel like this male author was trying too hard to portray female emotions. Our two main characters are Suzette (Marcel) and Lucie (Claude). I know this one will be compared to the recent smash hit of the Heart's Invisible Furies, but it doesn't hold a candle. Where that was funny and poignant and sweet and heartbreaking, this feels like a WWII spy novel that just happens to have two lesbians at its center. of course it may just be unfortunate that I read the other masterpiece so recently, because I just kept comparing them in my head, and they aren't comparable. so, for that I give it 3 stars. the plot moved... decently. the characters were.... interesting.
-This was such a moving book with immensely strong female characters -I love how Claude and Suzanne were unapologetically themselves and lived how they wanted to -I felt that for a lot of the book that Claude was relatively selfish and manipulated Suzanne, but it was also clear how much they loved each other -It was fun to read about people like Sylvia Beach and Adrienne interacting with Claude and Suzanne having read The Paris Bookseller and After Sappho -Their braver during the war and their imprisonment was astonishing -Although sad, I like how they would rather die than let the Nazis win -Their love endured, and Suzanne singing to Claude in prison was heartwarming and so striking -It's sad that these powerful women seem to be so unheard of -Suzanne's perspective was always level-headed and I could feel and understand her passion and love for Claude
Favourite Quotes
-No one had ever told me I was funny before. It's difficult to convey how intoxicating that was - Suzanne -'When it comes to you, no word is big enough.' - Claude -'I don't feel that I exist unless you look at me.' - Claude -'She said, 'You've found your soul's companion. The other you.'' - Claude -In those days, in Paris, it sometimes seemed women were more powerful than men - Suzanne -We would live quietly, take photographs. Love each other - Suzanne -Claude placed her hand on mine. 'I'll always need you.' - Suzanne -'It's true what I told my father all those years ago. You were my salvation.' - Claude -'You were everything to me,' I say out loud, 'whether you like it or not. There was never anyone but you.' - Suzanne
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
This book completely took me by surprise. What an extraordinary and gorgeous story, I’m still in awe and to be honest it has been a while since I actually cried reading a book. This is a story about love and art, about war, about devotion, loyalty, convictions, bravery, strength, weakness, about two strong independent women who lived through two world wars, smashed gender barriers, became important figures of the Surrealist movement in Paris and revolted against Nazi occupation of their late home on Jersey.
These women were constantly overlooked in the history of Surrealism and I’m so happy to have read this beautiful novel and learned about them. This novel is history come to life and it’s written so beautifully, so delicate, so full of observations, full of suffering and joy and creativity and just so full of HISTORY and just THESE WOMEN. I’m so amazed. Books like these are a powerful reminder of all the amazing and wonderful women in history that aren’t well known. I enjoyed it so much and learned a lot.
3.5 stars, will more than likely add this to my personal collection. Dragged out a bit but in the end I didn't mind as much as I did it the beginning. I enjoyed that while this is a wlw book the male author didn't fetishize their relationship or make it overly sexual, in fact there were no sex scenes at all which was kinda disappointing. However, I do appreciate the apparent self awareness the author had that he would not be able to understand that kind of sexual encounter. Claude and Susanne's life was so private that it's nice to see no creative liberties taken with the most intimate parts of their lives.
Loved Claude and lovely to hear thoughts on gender and sexuality and just self awareness without needing to provide explanation of her motives. While I feel Claude would be considered non-binary in modern day I'm not going to put that label on her.
Lovely narrative of forgotten lives in mainstream art especially in the surrealist movement.
I'm glad the story of these two women was imagined into fiction, and there were some very good turns of phrase, hence the Stars.
But even in Serious Literary Works That Involve Trauma and End in Heartbreak (not a spoiler, it says it in the blurb), the author needs to write characters that inspire emotional buy-in from the reader. This book didn't do that, at least not for me. The leads came across as flat and predictable while also not being endearing at all, one being The Emotional Femme and the other being The Philandering Butch, and that's just not my jam. And it wasn't balanced out by thoroughly painted scenes of 1920's France, either; I don't remember a sense of place at all after the opening scene.
I have a horrible habit of reading but not actually paying attention and this is what happened in the middle section of this book. HOWEVER! My heart ripped in two during the last section and I really loved the characters, they were complex and interesting and I loved reading about an older queer relationship. It was interesting to read about the second half of life/ a relationship rather than just the first half where they are getting together and then it’s ‘happily ever after’. So yes, I recommend.
I've been reading Rupert Thomson for a couple of decades; his books are pretty varied but he never disappoints. This is beautiful (true!) story of bravery and love and art, speaking very much to nowadays concerns such a gender identity, and Nazi scum.
A negative about this edition: the cover choice is as heinously inappropriate to the novel as those Elena Ferrante ones. The biography of two people who created the most striking art, and rather than take a cue from that, they chose a bland stock photo?
Sometimes when looking at a book featuring a love story, I end up debating to which genre it belongs. Would it be placed on the romance shelves of a bookstore or with works of literary fiction? The reason for my debate is that I like to judge a work by what the author is attempting to accomplish. I have nothing against either genre, but there is a difference between the two. For example, the romance genre tends to focus more on the plot, while serious fiction concentrates on the complex psychological and intellectual aspects of the relationship. However, the line between the genres is thin. Readers might question into which category Jane Austin would be placed if she were writing today. It’s pretty clear, though, that the two novels featured in this review – “Never Anyone But You” by Rupert Thomson (Other Press) and “Find Me” by André Aciman (Farrar, Straus and Giroux) – would most likely not appeal to readers of the romance or rom-con genres, even though the underlying theme of both is love and its aftermath. See the rest of my review at https://www.thereportergroup.org/past...
Such a wonderful read! I cannot believe I hadn't heard of these two magnificent women before. The writing seemed somehow both intimate and distant, and I grew very attached to the main characters, Paris, their island, their work, their dreams. This book is beautiful and informative, and I am very glad I stumbled upon in!
Well. This was a surprise. Thomson has performed an uncanny act of ventriloquism in this lovingly-told story of Claude Cahun & Suzanne Malherbe. I knew a bit about them - feminist art circles in the 1980s had ‘rediscovered’ them - but the detail and, well, charm of Thomson’s imagining of their life is just lovely. Highly recommended.
'Who was it who said that at every moment we stand on the edge of eternity? I don't remember. But that was how it felt to live with her. That was how it felt fom the beginning.'