A SEASON IN DELHI

In Hess’ literary novella, a man in the midst of a marital crisis looks to a decades-old diary for guidance.

Married Manhattanites Brant and Lloyd have temporarily moved to Delhi for Lloyd’s work. They should be having the time of their lives in the beautiful, ancient city, but Brant is consumed by grief and guilt: grief over the recent death of his mother and guilt that his grief drove him to cheat on Lloyd with another man. While Lloyd works, Brant gardens, until one day he discovers an old diary buried in the dirt. Written in 1945, it’s the account of a woman named Carol, who also found herself in Delhi due to her husband’s job. “He hasn’t touched me in a year,” writes Carol. “I hate him for that. I blame it on his work, but who knows. I’ve stopped trying. My mother told me sex was the least important part of a happy marriage. I’m really stuck here.” Brant becomes absorbed by Carol’s tale and its similarities to his own life, but when reading of Carol’s infidelity leads Brant to confess his own affair to Lloyd, he finds his story and Carol’s increasingly—and disastrously—intertwined. Hess’ deliberate prose effectively captures Brant’s emotional state, as when he excavates the diary: “The sun burned and he dug quickly seeing the back, the edges, the circumference. He pressed away more earth, then wrenched the thing free. It was sheathed in plastic, protected from the elements like some sacred text. He held it in his hands and it felt warm, pulsing with life.” The plot is a bit too contrived, unfortunately. Despite imbuing the journal with great significance (and having nothing better to do all day), Brant seems to read the diary over the course of many weeks instead of all at once. The story twists and heightens in a way that buoys the reader along, but it fails to leave an emotional impression.

A flawed but engaging novel about a romantically fraught period abroad.