Mrs March vit oisive dans un appartement huppé de New York. Alors que George, son mari, atteint la consécration littéraire avec son dernier roman, l’existence de Mrs March se met à vaciller. Aurait-elle, comme on le dit, servi de modèle à l’un des personnages peu reluisant du livre de son mari ? Impossible, connaissant George. Mais le connaît-elle vraiment ? N’aurait-elle pas été aveuglée, toutes ces années, par son existence dorée ? Mrs March se met alors à enquêter sur la vie intime de l’homme qui partage sa vie. Et elle découvre que celui-ci se passionne pour l’étrange disparition d’une jeune femme. Simple travail de romancier ? Peu à peu, le doute s’installe, et ses soupçons la mènent bien au-delà de ce qu’elle pensait. Au-delà même de la raison ? Avec ce portrait d’une femme dont le monde s’effondre, Virginia Feito nous offre un récit à la tension extrême. Un coup de maître, pour un premier roman.
Shirley Jackson meets Ottessa Moshfegh meets My Sister the Serial Killer in a brilliantly unsettling and darkly funny debut novel full of suspense and paranoia
George March’s latest novel is a smash hit. None could be prouder than Mrs. March, his dutiful wife, who revels in his accolades and relishes the lifestyle and status his success brings.
A creature of routine and decorum, Mrs. March lives an exquisitely controlled existence on the Upper East Side. Every morning begins the same way, with a visit to her favourite patisserie to buy a loaf of olive bread, but her latest trip proves to be her last when she suffers an indignity from which she may never recover: an assumption by the shopkeeper that the protagonist in George March’s new book – a pathetic sex worker, more a figure of derision than desire – is based on Mrs. March.
One casual remark robs Mrs. March not only of her beloved olive bread but of the belief that she knew everything about her husband – and herself – sending her on an increasingly paranoid journey, one that starts within the pages of a book but may very well uncover both a killer and the long-buried secrets of Mrs. March’s past.
A razor-sharp exploration of the fragility of identity and the smothering weight of expectations, Mrs. March heralds the arrival of a wicked and wonderful new voice.
Description:
Mrs March vit oisive dans un appartement huppé de New York. Alors que George, son mari, atteint la consécration littéraire avec son dernier roman, l’existence de Mrs March se met à vaciller. Aurait-elle, comme on le dit, servi de modèle à l’un des personnages peu reluisant du livre de son mari ? Impossible, connaissant George. Mais le connaît-elle vraiment ? N’aurait-elle pas été aveuglée, toutes ces années, par son existence dorée ? Mrs March se met alors à enquêter sur la vie intime de l’homme qui partage sa vie. Et elle découvre que celui-ci se passionne pour l’étrange disparition d’une jeune femme. Simple travail de romancier ? Peu à peu, le doute s’installe, et ses soupçons la mènent bien au-delà de ce qu’elle pensait. Au-delà même de la raison ? Avec ce portrait d’une femme dont le monde s’effondre, Virginia Feito nous offre un récit à la tension extrême. Un coup de maître, pour un premier roman.
Shirley Jackson meets Ottessa Moshfegh meets My Sister the Serial Killer in a brilliantly unsettling and darkly funny debut novel full of suspense and paranoia
George March’s latest novel is a smash hit. None could be prouder than Mrs. March, his dutiful wife, who revels in his accolades and relishes the lifestyle and status his success brings.
A creature of routine and decorum, Mrs. March lives an exquisitely controlled existence on the Upper East Side. Every morning begins the same way, with a visit to her favourite patisserie to buy a loaf of
olive bread, but her latest trip proves to be her last when she suffers an indignity from which she may never recover: an assumption by the shopkeeper that the protagonist in George March’s new book –
a pathetic sex worker, more a figure of derision than desire – is based on Mrs. March.
One casual remark robs Mrs. March not only of her beloved olive bread but of the belief that she knew everything about her husband – and herself – sending her on an increasingly paranoid journey, one
that starts within the pages of a book but may very well uncover both a killer and the long-buried secrets of Mrs. March’s past.
A razor-sharp exploration of the fragility of identity and the smothering weight of expectations, Mrs. March heralds the arrival of a wicked and wonderful new voice.