A supernaturally tinged novel of love and longing, set in Civil War–era Louisiana.
De Abreu’s historical tale opens in the beleaguered city of New Orleans in 1862 as it faces the imminent threat of siege and destruction at the hands of Union forces commanded by Commodore David Farragut. To this war-torn place has recently come a young woman named Nabella,who meets and befriends rooming-house owner Eulalie DeMasiliere. The two become close and do their best to comfort each other as each day’s newspapers (reproduced among the novel’s many illustrations) offer grim information. However, they’re intermittently intrigued by their enigmatic neighbor, cabman Valsin Chiasson, who always seems “interested and bored at the same time.” Nabella eagerly awaits the return of the man she considers to be her future husband, Jean Trahan, from the front lines, and as she waits, she must live through Union Maj. Gen. Benjamin Butler’s infamous General Order No. 28, which decrees that any New Orleans woman insulting a Union officer can be treated as harshly as a criminal. These experiences are counterbalanced with the deepening story of Valsin, his love for a woman named Marie Louise Gaspard, and most remarkably, the supernatural mystery of his life: the fact that he’s destined to be reincarnated over and over and only dimly recall his previous existences. “Although Valentin had what some may call an average life,” readers are told, “it was as deep as the sea.” The narrative gradually inches forward in time to the present and then the future, with echoes of Valentin at its heart.
One of the signature strengths of de Abreu’s novel is its elaborately detailed evocation of late-19th-century New Orleans at the time of the Civil War—one that’s considerably aided by the author’s decision to illustrate her novel; on almost every page, there are black-and-white photos of old New Orleans locations, facsimiles of period newspapers, and contemporary prints and portraits. The prose can occasionally become labored, as in a detailed description of Nabella’s clothing, which notes her “wine-colored gown gathered and crossed at the bust,” “a garnet choker necklace and earrings she inherited from her mother,” and a “beautiful cream shawl embroidered in multicolored flowers [that] wrapped around her elbows and hung low in back.” Although the author’s storytelling conviction is undeniable, there’s a didactic tenor to the book that is particularly pronounced in the book’s final section, which features questions and reading prompts. They’re clearly intended to provoke book club discussions, but they have the parallel effect of drawing attention to the fact that the story of Nabella and the long, strange saga of Valsin aren’t substantial enough to warrant such back-of-the-textbook analysis. That said, the differences between those two narrative strains—one being standard historical fiction fare, and the other adding fantasy elements in the style of the work of Anne Rice—create an intriguing dynamic that de Abreu handles with some skill, which is helped by her extensive research.
A heartfelt, if mildly excessive, historical tale about a man with an immortal spirit.