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–?

The story is set in Kansas City between the World Wars and not structured around a single plot. Instead, the daily routines of Mrs Bridge, her management of the family and home, and her social engagements (centred on visiting friends, the country club and the Ladies Auxiliary) are detailed through a series of chronological vignettes. Each highlights the central themes of loneliness, conformity, and Mrs Bridge’s ‘…vague disquieting sensation‘ that something was missing.

Many of these vignettes also contain humour, dropped in quite unexpectedly. I laughed out loud over her frustration with Douglas’s use of the pastel guest towels –

‘These towels are for guests,’ said Mrs Bridge, and felt herself unaccountably on the verge of tears.
‘Well, why don’t they use them then?’ asked Douglas. … Mrs Bridge found herself getting furious with him, and was annoyed with herself because it was all really so trivial…  she knew he was right, partly right in any event; even so, when you had guests you put guest towels in the bathroom. That was what everyone did, it was what she did, and it was most definitely what she intended to continue doing. 

And, on finally visiting Paris, she observes Mr Bridge ‘hypnotised’ at a store window-

He sensed her approach and looked around with a start. They wandered along as before, but she had seen the object of his attention: a black lace brassiere with the tips cut off. The more she mulled over this incident the more concerned she became. The French, after all, might do as they pleased; she need have nothing to do with the French, but she must live with her husband.

A significant element of this book is the bigotry, typical to the time and to the upper-middle-class society in the South. The bigotry predominantly applies to race, religion and class, although there are also references to level of education, political beliefs, sexual orientation and, in one startling chapter, some victim shaming regarding an Auxiliary member who had reportedly been raped years before.

…a life-size cutout of Santa Claus on the roof, six reindeer in the front year, candles in every window, and by the front door an enormous cardboard birthday cake with one candle. On the cake was this message: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEAR JESUS.
‘My word, how extreme,’ said Mrs Bridge thoughtfully. ‘Some Italians must live there.’

It is through one avant-garde friend, Grace, and her children, particularly the rebel, Ruth, where most of Mrs Bridge’s ideas and beliefs are challenged.

This is not a comparison between Yates and Connell (although they are of similar ilk), however, I noticed a significant difference in their work – both authors are unwavering in examining something intensely and creating a strong emotional narrative. Yet Connell’s Mrs Bridge is bound by its time (obviously the commentary on race and a woman’s place in society is crucial to the story), whereas Yates, less so. When I read Yates, I’m always struck by his capacity to put new words to things that are uncomfortably familiar – in contrast, I felt safely distant from Mrs Bridge, given its 1930s Kansas setting.

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?

So often our choices for Literary Wives feature themes of loneliness and of women unable to follow the path they desire. These themes apply to Mrs Bridge however notably, Mrs Bridge never pinpoints what she desires.

She was not certain what she wanted from life, or what to expect from it, for she had seen so little of it, but she was sure that in some way – because she willed it to be so – her wants and her expectations were the same.

Her experience of being a wife is a slow erosion of intensity, of will; and an awareness of the emptiness that comes with the social and financial security she had been provided (‘…how odd – there was too much leisure.’).

Mr Bridge is never obviously or intentionally cruel toward his wife – he too behaves according to social convention of the time – however, as the children become adults, their observations about their parents’ relationship highlight the lack of intimacy and depth.

I very much enjoyed this book – will absolutely be reading the companion book, Mr Bridge, and will then seek out the 1990 film, Mr & Mrs Bridge, starring Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward.

See Rebecca’s, Kay’s, Becky’s and Naomi’s reviews, too.  And if you want to join in, our next book (June 2026) is Interpreter of Maladies by Jhumpa Lahiri.

4/5

‘Corky is having creamed tuna on toast and spinach,’ said Mrs Bridge pleasantly.
Alice observed that she herself didn’t care for spinach because it was made of old teabags.