Last month I went away for a long weekend and stopped in a lovely little independent book store with a great backstory. Predictably, being away on holiday coupled with an adorable shop put me in book-buying mode, so when I spotted The Correspondent, its enticing cover and knowing it received so many excellent reviews compelled me to buy it. I love independently owned book shops, so I feel good about this purchase. The book itself turned out to be in the “could have been a library loan” category.
I wish I could say I loved this book. I didn’t dislike it, but I didn’t love it either. I thought it was. . . fine. And books that I think are “fine” make for the most difficult reviews (at least for me).
Normally, I really enjoy epistolary novels. I love picking up the little clues and piecing together the greater narrative. I relish figuring out where the narrator is fooling herself and where she can be taken at her word. The narrator, Sybil Van Antwerp, is a retired judge and federal law clerk who dedicates a portion of every morning to writing letters (I love this!). She writes to her brother, her daughter, her son, her best friend. She writes to various authors, including Joan Didion and Larry McMurtry, who sometimes even write back. She writes to her next door neighbor even though he’s right next door and develops a regular correspondence with a tech support representative. She also writes pages and pages of an unsent letter to an unknown (though not very mysterious) recipient. Sybil also receives some threatening notes from an anonymous sender, presumably someone from her past life practicing law, and it’s revealed early on that she’s losing her eyesight, though she hides that information from most of the people close to her.
Taken as a sort of “love letter” to the art of letter writing, I applaud this book. “Isn’t there something wonderful that, to think that a story of one’s life is preserved in some way, that this very letter may one day mean something, even if it is a very small thing, to someone?” Taken as a revelation of Sybil Van Antwerp’s life, I was less charmed. Sybil isn’t particularly likable–she’s cold toward her daughter and attacks her best friend for perceived slights–but I don’t necessarily have a problem with that; I can enjoy a novel without loving the protagonist. She achieves her redemption in the end, but is it earned? I’m not sure. Of course, as she goes blind, she naturally “sees” more clearly.
Part of Sybil’s life history involves the death of one of her children (this is revealed fairly early), which is going to be triggering for many readers. I feel like a monster telling you this but, unlike so many Goodreads reviewers, I did not cry at this novel. I kept waiting for the emotional impact; I dug deep into my soul and looked around and came up empty. Sybil’s story just didn’t move me. Maybe it took too long to get there; maybe I didn’t like Sybil enough to care.
For me, this was a pleasant enough read, but it didn’t carry the emotional punch I was expecting. Perhaps this is one that I need to let sit on the shelf for a few (5? 10?) years and then revisit to see whether it touches me differently. All in all, this is a mild recommendation; I just wasn’t as over-the-moon as most readers.
