Wife by Charlotte Mendelson: Brilliant Depiction of a Marriage in Meltdown

Charlotte Mendelson is a masterful creator of modern-day villains, recently introducing readers to the detestable and domineering artist Ray Hanrahan in “The Exhibitionist.” Under his uncontrolled wrath, his equally, if not more talented wife and their children suffered. Mendelson’s novels frequently explore the theme of narcissism and how the complexities of domestic and familial life can nurture it.

In her sixth novel, “Wife,” Mendelson crafts another unforgettable character with Penny, an expat Australian academic. The story unfolds over the course of a single day as Zoe, Penny’s younger wife, tries to break free. Their neighbor Dawn becomes the hero, offering Zoe a safe haven, complete with cigarettes and advice on support forums and warning signs. However, before Zoe can escape, she must endure Penny’s desperate attempts to prevent her departure, including notes like “YOU ARE A MONSTER” taped to a rabbit’s litter tray and a last-minute sabotaged mediation session.

The process of ending Penny and Zoe’s relationship is complicated. Resolving their family situation involves not just making arrangements for their two daughters, Rose and Matilda, but also seeking the agreement of Penny’s ex-girlfriend Justine and her brother Robin. The two had provided their sperm for conception and are now determined to enforce every term of the parental agreement that Penny once assured Zoe would be ignored. Firmly on their side, Penny portrays Zoe as a home-wrecker determined to ruin their lives.

This tangled scenario is delivered with excruciating detail in confined spaces, as time ticks away towards Zoe’s planned escape in Dawn’s Nissan Cube. The depiction of the mundane disarray at the end of a shared life is both horrifying and comically absurd. Emotions surge and regrets simmer, all while characters fixate on trivial matters like a Ponies of the World dishcloth or parking permits. In the background, the entire relationship—from its inception to its messy end—is laid bare for grim examination.

The story of Penny and Zoe, told from Zoe’s perspective, drives the narrative forcefully, making it difficult to consider any other viewpoint. We learn that Penny, in her mid-30s at the time, scooped Zoe out of romantic, social, and professional obscurity, transforming her physical appearance and broadening her cultural horizons. For sexually unconfident Zoe, resisting a partner with such a commanding presence, who had an ex-lover’s cast bronze vulva exhibited in a Santa Fe gallery, would have been nearly impossible.

There lies the complex question of love and complicity. Amid the relentless humor and biting observations that fill Mendelson’s prose, one wonders if Zoe enabled Penny’s excesses for nearly two decades, thereby allowing their children to become helpless bystanders in their dysfunctional family dynamic. Can Zoe’s personal history, and the outrageous figures like her preening and self-pitying mother Tricia, justify her acquiescence? Does her profound early love for Penny excuse her role in perpetuating the situation? If readers do not side with her, are they unfairly blaming a victim for failing to escape a toxic relationship?

These unsettling questions are underscored by the novel’s poignant epigraphs. A quote from Shirley Hazzard suggests that “a true friend” does not indulge the idea that “there are two sides to every question,” while another from Elizabeth Strout reflects on the pain parents can inflict on their children. Readers, unlike true friends or parents, are free to take sides based on their engagement and sympathies. This is where “Wife” both disturbs and entertains, offering a compelling examination of dependency and distress. In conclusion, if your loved one likens you to both a rescue dog and a squid, accuses you of having LesbOedipal tendencies, and is jealous of your lupins, perhaps it is time for an exit strategy.

Wife by Charlotte Mendelson is published by Mantle (£18.99).

Source: The Guardian