I first came across New Zealand author Emily Perkins when I read her 2012 novel, The Forrests. I adored it, and on the strength of that I raced out and bought one of her earlier books, Novel About My Wife. It has languished on my shelf until now (and during that time I read her most recent book, Lioness, which I also enjoyed).

Novel About My Wife is narrated by struggling screenwriter, Tom Stone, as he combs back over the events that led to the death of his beloved wife, Ann. There are various elements in their story that initially seem important – Ann’s pregnancy; a train derailment; a new friend, Kate; a mugging; ongoing money issues; a road rage incident that results in a fist fight; a local homeless man whose constant presence looms; and their home beset with vermin, smells and strange noises. There are also flashbacks to the week the couple spent in Fiji, where Tom was working on a script about the Fijian coup, with a vampire/ zombie twist… I think that kind of says it all. This story was a hot mess.

What is actually happening is that Ann has a trauma history, and events from her past continue to have an impact.

Apart from the red-herrings/ambiguity, there were other things I disliked, including the snappy sentences that I reckon Perkins saved up, ready for an opportunity to roll out (and they all came out in this book). For example –

She had that insane Birkenstock look, tanned skin, no make-up and lots of single white streaks through her straight long black hair giving her an unnerving medusa-like quality.

‘Two cappucini coming up,’ said Simon, which confirmed my hatred of him – it’s ridiculous to fuss about the niceties of another language when you’re not even on foreign soil.

I felt a rush of sympathy for Titus and Ruby-Lou, with their brown bread packed lunches and mental institution haircuts.

Additionally, the eking out of how Ann dies, what has happened in her past, and what happened in Fiji was painful (and to be frank, not resolved). It’s a lot of reading work for little reward.

I finished this book with an overwhelming sense that Perkins must have found her writing stride by the time she penned The Forrests and later, Lioness. Both of those books show consistent style and restrained plots.

The main question we ask about the books we read for Literary Wives is: What does this book say about wives or about the experience of being a wife?

Interestingly, despite the title, this book says more about Tom than Ann. Notably, Tom objectifies Ann in a peculiar way – there are constant references to her physical appearance (her alabaster skin, her wild red hair, her long fingers, her elegant feet, her ‘…hips and knees jutting like a racehorse’), her ‘Australian’ mannerisms (which were horribly stereotyped), and her secretiveness about her past. Tom’s observations serve to highlight his own insecurities, which are banal, middle-aged, and not at all interesting. If I put my therapist hat on, I could have looked at Tom through a relational theory lens – that is, that we understand ourselves in the context of others, and our relationships with others. But… but… Tom is so basic and reductive that I’m not convinced he would see beyond Ann as his wife, an object to be ‘figured out’.

See Rebecca’s, Kay’s, and Becky’s reviews, too (Naomi is sitting this month out). And if you want to join in, our next book (December) is The Soul of Kindness by Elizabeth Taylor.

2/5

‘Of course the key to good risotto is the parmigiano reggiano.’
Tonia rolled her ‘r’s in the exaggerated Italian way that Simon spoke. This was a direct quote from him and I laughed along cruelly, despite having my own opinions about the key to good risotto, which doubtless would sound equally wanky if aired.

Personally, I’m not a huge fan of risotto (or ‘hot, wet rice’ as the Kates call it) but if pushed, I’ll take an asparagus risotto.