Find out the latest indie author news. For FREE.

ADVERTISEMENT

Maison Cristina
Maison Cristina immerses readers in an existential question: can the powers of storytelling and spiritual searching return to life a young woman sunken by mysterious wounds into a state of catatonia? In Maison Cristina Eugene K. Garber creates a dramatic bond between two memorable characters striving to redeem themselves from failure and suffering, a quest made arduous and uncertain by the deep wounds each has suffered in the past. The medium of their struggle is storytelling. Octogenarian Peter Naughton tells stories to youthful Charlene, narratives dark but paradoxically healing. And even as he spins his tales he must confront painful memories and a serio-comic demon who has haunted him from his youth. Witnessing the process of redemptive remembering and telling are three nuns and an aide of strong faith who understand that the saving of a human self is fraught with struggle and uncertainty. Two other inmates of Maison Cristina offer comic relief uncannily pertinent to the central themes of the novel. Ms. Trask, imagining herself a descendant of a great rail family and witness of her sister’s insanity, makes raucous assault on her mental and physical confinement. Mr. Gerrity struggles torturously to lift himself up from sloth-like inertia to articulate humanity. The novel plunges readers into mysteries compounded of existential battles against darkness and heroic struggles to reach the light.
Reviews
FranxFiction

In this brilliant novel which requires close, attentive reading, the narrator introduces us to two people, one a dysfunctional man, Naughton, with a fountain of stories from his past, and tending to logorrhea, the other Charlene, a woman in a wheelchair, who is tongue-tied in a close to catatonic state that is rooted in some trauma.  The juxtaposition of these characters as they are trapped at either end of loquacity is an ingenious premise. We experience how the telling of Naughton’s stories gradually moves her out of her cocoon.

One of the intriguing features of the book is its setting in a mental asylum — the “Maison” of the title.  We don’t recognize any of the familiar institutions of fictional fame, such as “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest” or “Shutter Island.”  Rather, Garber’s is an institution quite advanced, in a world that seems to have taken Michel Foucault’s insights in “Madness and Civilization” to heart. In “Maison,” the nuns in charge take the mission of healing quite seriously. Foremost there is Sister Claire, who spends hours with the inmates entrusted to her, following every thread of meaning into rabbit holes with the patience and empathy of a saint.  Of course she is too humble to take credit for her practical wisdom and the incremental improvements of her interlocutors; it is God’s guidance and God’s gift, after all.

But, given this fascinating setting and plot, the real delight comes from the wit and economy of Garber’s writing, as in all of his published prose.  The high-level dialogs in the asylum bristle with quips, hidden agendas, and allusions.  In one of the scenes that recapitulates Naughton’s difficult past, the mafia-style vernacular of a slave-driver boss meets the Harvard-educated speak of his employee, reminiscent of the cultural clash we experience right now as a divided nation.

Read the book as an exploration of the power of stories to heal, or as an illustration of Foucault’s relativistic view of mental illness, or just as a connoisseur of fiction writing at its best — you will be richly rewarded.

ADVERTISEMENT

Loading...