Oh, what a tangled web we weave. Claire Messud’s latest novel, “This Strange Eventful History,” is a sprawling, ambitious work that follows the Cassar family across seven decades and multiple continents. It’s a story of displacement, of identities forged and lost, of the long shadows cast by colonialism and war. And boy, does it pack a punch.
Messud, known for her razor-sharp prose and psychological acuity, has crafted something truly special here. This isn’t just a family saga – it’s a meditation on history, memory, and the ways we construct our narratives. It’s also, I’d argue, her most personal work yet. Drawing inspiration from her own family’s pied-noir roots, Messud digs deep into the complexities of belonging and exile.
The novel’s been generating quite a buzz, and for good reason. It’s just been longlisted for the 2024 Booker Prize, cementing Messud’s place as one of our finest contemporary writers. But accolades aside, what struck me most was how deeply human this story feels. It’s messy and complicated and sometimes frustrating—just like family, just like life.
A Family Adrift
At the heart of “This Strange Eventful History” are the Cassars, a pied-noir family forever caught between worlds. We first meet them in 1940, as World War II tears through their lives. Gaston, the patriarch, is a naval officer separated from his wife Lucienne and their young children. From there, Messud traces the family’s journey through the tumultuous decades that follow.
The Cassars become, in many ways, emblematic of the pied-noir experience. Colonizers who were themselves colonized, they’re left without a true homeland after Algerian independence. We watch as they struggle to forge new identities in France, in Canada, in Australia – always carrying the weight of their complicated history.
Messud excels at bringing each era to vivid life. The chaos of wartime Algiers, the stifling conformity of 1950s Toronto, the sun-baked dreaminess of 1970s Sydney – each setting feels distinct and richly realized. It’s a testament to her skill as a writer that she can move so seamlessly across time and place.
A Cast of Ghosts
The novel’s sprawling timeline allows Messud to explore how trauma and displacement echo through generations. Gaston and Lucienne’s perfect love becomes both sustaining myth and suffocating legacy for their children. François and Denise, born into uncertainty, carry their parents’ ghosts with them even as they try to forge their own paths.
François’s marriage to Barbara, a Canadian from a vastly different cultural background, becomes a fascinating study in miscommunication and unmet expectations. Their daughter Chloe, our narrator for much of the book, is left to make sense of this tangled family history.
Messud has always had a gift for creating complex, often difficult characters, and she’s in top form here. These aren’t always likable people, but they feel achingly real. Gaston’s rigid patriarchal worldview, François’s restless dissatisfaction, Barbara’s simmering resentment – it’s all rendered with unflinching honesty and deep empathy.
The Weight of History
While the Cassars’ story is deeply personal, Messud never loses sight of the larger historical forces at play. The novel grapples with the long-term consequences of colonialism, the upheaval of decolonization, and the complex legacies left in their wake.
There’s a profound sense of displacement that runs through the book. The Cassars are perpetually caught between identities—French but not quite, Algerian but not really. It’s a liminal existence that Messud captures with great nuance and sensitivity.
The novel also offers a fascinating exploration of how we construct our personal and cultural narratives. Chloe’s attempts to piece together her family history become a metaphor for the ways we all try to make sense of our past. What do we choose to remember? What do we forget? And how do those choices shape who we become?
A Masterclass in Prose
Messud’s writing has always been a joy to read, and “This Strange Eventful History” showcases her at the height of her powers. Her prose is precise yet lyrical, capable of breathtaking beauty and stark brutality. She has a particular gift for sensory detail – you can almost feel the oppressive heat of an Algerian summer, smell the salt air of the Sydney coast.
The novel’s structure is ambitious, shifting perspectives and timelines with a fluidity that lesser writers might struggle to pull off. Messud moves effortlessly between intimate domestic moments and sweeping historical events, always maintaining a sense of cohesion.
I was particularly struck by her use of language to delineate character. Gaston’s formal, slightly archaic French contrasts beautifully with Barbara’s more colloquial English. It’s a subtle but effective way of highlighting the cultural divides at play.
Echoes of the Past
While “This Strange Eventful History” stands on its own merits, longtime Messud fans will notice some thematic echoes of her earlier work. The exploration of cultural dislocation recalls her debut novel “When the World Was Steady.” The fraught parent-child dynamics bring to mind “The Emperor’s Children.”
But this feels like Messud’s most personal work to date. Drawing on her own family history has given the novel a depth of feeling that’s truly powerful. It’s as if all her previous explorations of identity and belonging have been building to this moment.
In terms of comparable works, Albert Camus’ “The First Man” comes to mind—another autobiographically inspired look at pied-noir identity. Messud’s sweeping historical scope also brings to mind Marlon James’ “A Brief History of Seven Killings” or Yaa Gyasi’s “Homegoing.”
A Few Rough Edges
For all its strengths, “This Strange Eventful History” isn’t without its challenges. The sprawling timeline and large cast of characters can occasionally feel overwhelming. There were moments, particularly in the middle section, where I found myself wishing for a family tree to keep track of everyone.
The novel’s pacing can be deliberate, especially in the more introspective passages. Readers looking for a plot-driven page-turner might find themselves frustrated. But for those willing to sink into Messud’s richly drawn world, the rewards are immense.
Some may also find the characters difficult to warm to at times. Gaston’s rigid worldview and François’ self-absorption can be off-putting. But I’d argue that’s part of the point – these are flawed, complex people shaped by difficult circumstances.
A Haunting Resonance
In the end, what lingers most about “This Strange Eventful History” is its profound sense of loss. Loss of homeland, loss of identity, loss of certainty. The Cassars are forever searching for a place to belong, always slightly out of step with the world around them.
It’s a feeling that resonates deeply in our current moment. In an age of increasing displacement and cultural upheaval, the Cassars’ story feels more relevant than ever. Messud has tapped into something universal here – the human need for roots, for connection, for a sense of place in the world.
But amidst the sadness, there’s also a thread of resilience running through the novel. The Cassars endure, they adapt, they find ways to carry on. It’s a testament to the human spirit’s capacity for reinvention.
A Literary Triumph
“This Strange Eventful History” cements Claire Messud’s place as one of our most thoughtful and accomplished novelists. It’s a work of immense ambition and profound emotional resonance, one that will linger in your mind long after you turn the final page.
The Booker Prize nomination feels well-deserved. This is the kind of sweeping, deeply considered literary fiction that the prize was made for. Whether it takes home the award or not, Messud has crafted something truly special here.
Rich, complex, and deeply moving, “This Strange Eventful History” is a novel to be savored. It’s the kind of book that demands to be discussed, debated, returned to. In tracing the story of one family, Messud has illuminated the larger forces that shape all our lives. It’s a remarkable achievement.
