This isn’t a one size fits all novel. It isn’t for everyone, but it hit a sweet spot for me. It was unfamiliar, foreign, colorful, erotic, and otherworldly at times. The protagonist is a Black American professor, Shay, who married an older Italian entrepreneur, Senna. On his urging, they buy a vacation villa in a small (fictional) beach village, Naratrany, in Madagascar, as newlyweds in the latter part of the 90s. They are both multilingual (but don’t speak the island languages), and live in Milan, but return to the villa during two month-long vacations annually. The novel covers over two decades in their life, especially at their villa, Red House.
Before I talk about the book, I’ll mention the structure. Each chapter has an intriguing title, my favorite being Elephants’ Graveyard. At times, I felt that I was reading a series of vignettes, although there was always Shay as a through line and it followed a mostly linear flow. But some of the chapters could also be lifted from the book and made into it’s own very short story, so I wasn’t surprised when I found out that at least one was actually just that, in the New Yorker. But it didn’t diminish the story for me.
Shay feels awkward at first, being a “mistress” of a house with the Black staff subordinated to her—much connection in her head with slavery. She does make a good friend in Bertine the head housekeeper, who notices that Shay and Senna fight a lot (they only squabble in Madagascar, not in Milan), and Bertine steps in to help Shay. This is when it gets exotic and speaks to the animism beliefs of the island inhabitants. Shay attends a ceremony that had me holding my breath a few times.
Over the decades, Bertine remains Shay’s closest confidante. Senna is often on fishing expeditions or business ventures when they are in Naratrany. He’s got libertine tendencies—he and Shay are very different individuals. They have two children, who travel with them during the vacations, and grow up with native Naratranians, ex-pats, and Europeans and others who came to the island. The children aren’t a prime ingredient of the narrative; mostly it is about Shay and her perspective, experiences, and relationship with Senna and the way she interacts with her staff and others on the island, especially Bertine, my second favorite character.
Madagascar is a complex place with layers of class structure and social sensibilities. And sex between islanders and people of other cultures plays a large part— part of survival, too. Often, the story questions its own morality and perspective, which is done with ease in third-person limited POV. No narrator broadcasts or tells you what to think or judge about the characters--only as it pertains to Shay’s own learning curve and evolving comprehension. Moreover, it is not a traditional arc storyline—you just have to follow it wherever it leads you.
Andrea Lee is both erudite and allusive in her prose, often including snippets of French or Italian (some on the island speak French). There are also superbly incorporated references to songs, poems, and literature from all over the world. I felt smarter as I progressed. :) Mostly, I enjoyed the unique assortment of individuals and concerns of the various characters that come to Red House, which is the focal point of the novel. Lee’s sense of place is scintillating, sensual, gripping, as are her figures of speech and descriptions.
“Madagascar has its own fabulously complex identity…Building on such terrain has consequences: attachments root and expand in unexpected corners, the way that a tough network of sea grapes can cover a whole beach.”
If you are up for a strange and fascinating journey, with a vivid, chimerical, spirit-infused culture, and a reading experience that bends beyond the usual borders, I recommend you give this book a go. The final page, in its action, may have been a bit twee, but I understood it in a more sublime sense, too. Themes of heritage, family, acceptance, love, and betrayal are addressed--juicy to the core, but nuanced, and dream-like at its edges.
Thank you to the publishers at Scribner for sending me a copy.