“Loved and Missed”, by Susie Boyt, translated from English by Stéphane Vanderhaeghe, La Croisée, 240 p., €22, digital €15.
We closed lost loves in a mixture of amazement at the splendour of this book and gratitude to the author for the power of the emotions that flow there. Also tormented by a question: how is it possible that the seventh novel by the British Susie Boyt is the first to be translated into French? The writer demonstrates an admirable literary knowledge and knowledge of the human heart. The genuine sobs that it provokes in the reader are due to the very restraint of the entire story.
This moderation is that of Ruth, a brave, sarcastic and solitary woman. After her drug-addicted daughter, Eleanor, gives birth to Lily, Ruth manages to keep the child and raise her, living in a constant double fear: that of the day when Eleanor will want to get Lily back and that of Eleanor’s death. This fear hangs over the story without Ruth formulating it clearly. In general, the narrator is careful not to specify things too much and, in particular, the situation of her daughter (she excels, on the other hand, in pointing out her own errors and faults). It is not that she is hiding her face. But do not speak of” needle “of“heroin” either“overdose”Not fixing Eleanor’s condition through language is his way of loving her.
From the office of his London apartment where he gives an interview to “ world of books »Susie Boyt recalls how the beginnings of the novel came to her. “The year my mother died, I couldn’t bear the thought of spending Christmas as usual in London and moved with my husband and daughters to Miami. I must have been bad! On the evening of December 24th we went to the cinema and on the way out we came across a large pink memorial, which turned out to be a church specialising in mental health issues. As we entered, we saw people visibly drunk or on drugs. I remember two girls in synthetic coats standing next to large rickety candles; I kept an eye on them as I listened to the sermon, which was about grief, which was timely for me. There was empathy in this place but also a threatening atmosphere. I wanted a book crossed by strong currents of love, but with an insufficient, ineffective love.” This particular moment inspired the chapter about Lily’s baptism, where everyone, including the priest, tries to put on a brave face, and which culminates in Ruth taking Lily away from her parents, at once devilishly Dickensian and remarkably theatrical.
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