The Hunters: Two Novellas by Claire Messud

Always been fascinated by Claire Messud’s writing. Glad to discover a gem I’ve missed all these years, The Hunters, Two Novellas (first published 2001, this Norton edition, 2021) which I recently found in the basement of an indie bookstore, where used or overstocked books are stored.

The first novella is A Simple Tale. On the surface, it’s a Canadian immigrant story, how people came to Canada after the second World War to make a home for themselves and their future generation. But it speaks to deeper truths about belonging, hope, resilience, love and alas, family conflicts and disappointment. Immigrant or not, such are universal issues.

Maria Poniatowski was born in the Ukraine. WWII pushed her out of her village, stranded in Europe, and eventually arriving in Canada alone, having lost her family and close friends. She met Lev in the Displaced Persons camp, fell in love, married, and gave birth to baby Radek. Sounds common enough? But not in Messud’s interesting prose:

And finally there, in the Displaced Persons camp, Maria, an old maid of twenty… At long last. Dreamed, discarded, forgotten, it came to her on the sly, slowly at first, shy, and then in full torrent. That’s what the Displaced Persons camp would mean to her, in the ribbon of years: simply, love. (p. 26)

Settling in a new country doesn’t come naturally, especially when it’s totally foreign. Weeping and hardship may be for a short while, for joy soon comes. Maria receives a very Canadian welcoming at the Displaced Persons camp:

In the morning, that first September morning of 1946, there was the piercing early-autumn sunlight sifting through the pines, and the clean odor of the needles as they were trampled underfoot, and the soft damp mulch scent of the forest; and there were maples, in amongst the monstrous evergreens, turning, golden, vermilion, ochre in a riotous celebration of the Poniatowskis’ arrival. (p. 31)

Maria later found a housekeeping job with Mrs. Ellington, and became her life-long companion for decades. As little Radek grows up and Maria and Lev grow old, disappointments set in. The baby son she has raised all the years from the displacement camp to a house in Toronto is now a man with his own will but totally subdued by the girl he chooses to marry, an obvious unfit match, bringing his parents only disappointment and heartbreaks. Having endured and lived through the War and years of adjustments and finally calling a new country home, Maria, a widow now and alienated from her son and his family, watches Mrs. Ellington slip away. Alone again.

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The second novella, The Hunters, can well be an exemplar for the now popular, contemporary genre of the psychological, suspense novels such as Before I Go to Sleep (J. S. Watson, 2011), Gone Girl (Gillian Flynn, 2012), The Girl on the Train (Paula Hawkins, 2015), The Woman in the Window (A. J. Finn, 2018)… just to name a few. An unreliable narrator, or a misleading perspective taking the story onto twists and turns until the frame of reference unraveled and truth spills out.

What Messud is doing in The Hunter, however, is a much deeper probe into the psyche of a person in solitude, blurring the imaginary with reality. How reliable is our judgement of character, or how accurate is our perception in deciphering facts from the inkling of our subjective mind? How reliable is our view on reality? Can we fully know someone?

An American academic spends a summer in London to do research on a book he or she is writing. Exactly, Messud does not specify the name or the gender of the narrator, this academic. I wonder what purpose would that serve, maybe universality. Nevertheless, Messud is an expert in psychoanalysis, and her prose, exquisite, as she describes the narrator’s state of mind and inner thoughts.

Choosing to stay in a neighbourhood away from the mainstream, academic centre of London, the narrator seeks solitude to nurse the ending of a love relation, as well, to seek refuge in the anonymity of a diverse neighbourhood where nobody knows her and no one the narrator wants to know.

Such a peaceful existence is interrupted one night by a downstairs neighbour Ridley Wandor, coming up to introduce herself and thus intrudes into the privacy and disrupt the solitude of our much annoyed narrator. Ridley Wandor would become the unwanted nemesis that summer, and months later, when a clearer view of facts is revealed, the cause of inescapable guilt.

The Hunters isn’t one of those page turners in which the plot pushes the reader to forge on, but an astute character study of both the hunter and the prey. In a deeper way, Messud challenges her narrator’s sense of reality, and just because of the lack of omniscience––our very limitation as human––shaking the narrator to the core as facts are revealed at the end. It’s hard to find an excerpt in the novella without dropping a hint as spoiler, but this famous line from Atticus Finch comes to me naturally:

You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view […] until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.”

For our narrator, this revelation comes a bit too late.

~ ~ ~ ~ Ripples

Novellas in November is co-hosted by 746 Books and Bookish Beck

Related posts on Ripple Effects:

Small Things Like These from novella to screen

The Quiet Girl Movie Review: From the Literary to the Visual

Passing by Nella Larsen: from Novella to Screen

The Gone Girl Phenom

Before I Go to Sleep: Movie or Book?

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