Review of THE HAND THAT FIRST HELD MINE by Maggie O'Farrell

3 Stars

I decided to end the year with another novel by someone who has become one of my favourite contemporary writers.  In this book, which won the 2010 Costa Book Award, there are two narratives, set over 50 years apart, which eventually do connect.

In the mid-1950s, free-spirited Lexie Sinclair leaves her family home in Devon and moves to London where Innes Kent, an art dealer, art critic, and art magazine editor, introduces her to the arts scene in post-war Soho and guides her into a career as an art journalist.  Later Lexie gives birth to a son and raises him as a single mother, while continuing to pursue her career.    

In contemporary times, Elina Vilkuna, a painter, is recovering from the difficult birth of her first child and navigating the first months of motherhood.  For her partner Ted, Elina’s near-death during delivery has triggered memories of his childhood.  He remembers nothing before he was about nine, but now starts to have flashbacks of suppressed memories which leave him increasingly confused.

The novel’s portrayal of motherhood is outstanding.  The author captures the women’s intense love for their children alongside their deep longing for independence and creativity.  The exhaustion, anxieties, and joys of motherhood experienced by Lexie and Elina will resonate with all mothers.  Parenting also challenges relationships, and Elina and Ted struggle to return to the relationship they had before the arrival of their son. 

An aspect of the novel which I found most interesting is the development of Lexie.  In the beginning, she seems immature and selfish but she slowly grows into a strong, capable, confident, independent woman.  Life is not easy for her; she is abandoned in more than one way, yet she perseveres.  She pays little heed to social norms; certainly her decision to raise a child as an unmarried woman in the 1950s is unorthodox.  Being the only female staff writer for a newspaper presents challenges but ones she manages without fanfare.  I love dynamic characters that change in a convincing, credible way. 

The book begins slowly; it is not until the end of the first part – almost exactly midway through the novel – that a pivotal event occurs that really propels Lexie’s story.  In the other narrative, Elina begins to feel well again and Ted begins reconstructing more and more memories.  It becomes obvious that the two stories will connect and that, as in many of O’Farrell’s novels, secrets and lies will be shown to affect future generations.

More than once, the author directly addresses the reader but in such a way that the comments are not intrusive.  For example, the novel opens with this paragraph:  “Listen.  The trees in this story are stirring, trembling, readjusting themselves.  A breeze is coming in gusts off the sea, and it is almost as if the trees know, in their restlessness, in their head-tossing impatience, that something is about to happen.”  Foreshadowing is very explicit:  there are sentences like “She has no idea that she will die young, that she does not have as much time as she thinks” and “She doesn’t know that this will never happen.”  Even before the connection between the two stories is obvious, the author describes Ted sitting “at the table where Lexie’s desk used to be.”

I would not say this is O’Farrell’s best book – that honour belongs to Hamnet and Judith – but this is still a worthwhile read.