LIARS

A slow-motion portrait of a collapsing marriage.

Jane, the narrator of this piercing second novel by poet-essayist Manguso, is an accomplished writer who’s fallen for John, a visual artist. From the start of their relationship, it’s clear that he has a competitive streak that manifests as jealousy: When Jane wins an esteemed fellowship in Greece that John lost out on, he sulks and judges. In the years that follow, Jane episodically tracks how her life with John tightens (marriage, a child) and then asphyxiates—John is constantly short on cash, perpetually traveling and moving the family for work, absent when it comes to housework, and dismissive of Jane’s ambitions. (Every time she mentions John taking another trip to Calgary, you can feel Jane grit her teeth a little harder.) Given the asymmetrical nature of the relationship, it’s not hard to predict the novel’s eventual arc. But given the title, it’s also easy to wonder how much Jane might be eliding—though, more brutally, the narrative showcases how much self-deception is required to keep a struggling marriage together. Regardless, much like Very Cold People (2022), the novel is driven by tart, brutal sentences. Sometimes Jane is sarcastically furious (“Congratulations! You’re forty years old and completely financially dependent on your husband!”) or vividly resentful (“At supper, I bit down on a shard of glass he’d gotten into the stir-fry”). Most often, though, the tone reflects a kind of bitter self-resentment that an intelligent and self-possessed feminist has been roped into a conventional, sexist gender role. Catching herself defending John, she thinks, “That’s just me projecting a pretty moral onto a story of deliberate harm.”

A bracing story of a woman on the verge.