For the same reasons I enjoy the work of Richard Yates, I enjoyed Evan S. Connell’s novel, Mrs Bridge  – spare prose (not a single unnecessary word); intensely depressing; bleakly suburban; and satirical.

It does not go unnoticed that the protagonist, Mrs Bridge, has an exotic name – India – and that despite initially thinking to herself that ‘…she could get along very nicely without a husband’, she marries Walter (Mr Bridge) who promises her that ‘…one day he would take his wife on a tour of Europe.‘ Mr Bridge proceeds to focus on building his law practice, and providing well for his family (they have three children, Ruth, Carolyn (Corky), and Douglas). And India leads a very staid, conservative suburban life.

They had started off together to explore something that promised to be wonderful, and, of course, there had been wonderful times. And yet, thought Mrs Bridge, why is it that we haven’t – that nothing has – that whatever we–? Continue reading →