This Strange Eventful History by Claire Messud

Ahh, the places we’ll go! And the places we’ll leave behind. Claire Messud’s latest novel, “This Strange Eventful History,” is a sweeping saga that traverses continents and decades, following the Cassar family as they are buffeted by the winds of history. It’s a story of exile and longing, of the search for home in a world that keeps shifting beneath your feet. And let me tell you, it’s one hell of a ride.

Nominated for the 2024 Booker Prize longlist (and rightly so, if you ask me), Messud’s novel is a tour de force that will leave you breathless and maybe a little bit heartbroken. It’s the kind of book that settles into your bones, that haunts you long after you’ve turned the final page. I found myself thinking about the Cassars at odd moments – in the checkout line at the grocery store, waiting for the kettle to boil – their voices echoing in my head like old friends I couldn’t quite shake.

A Family Adrift in the Tides of History

The novel opens in 1940 Algeria, introducing us to the Cassar family – pieds-noirs, French settlers in colonial North Africa. We meet young François and his sister Denise, children caught in the chaos of World War II. From there, Messud unfurls a sprawling narrative that spans seven decades and multiple continents, following the Cassars as they are uprooted again and again.

There’s Gaston and Lucienne, the patriarch and matriarch whose mythic love story both sustains and suffocates their children. François and Denise, siblings bound by their shared sense of displacement. And later, François’s wife Barbara, an outsider who struggles to understand her husband’s complicated heritage. Finally, there’s Chloe, François and Barbara’s daughter, who believes that excavating these buried family stories might finally bring them all some peace.

Messud weaves their individual tales into a rich tapestry, showing how the ripples of historical events – the fall of colonial Algeria, the upheavals of the 1960s and 70s – shape and reshape their lives. It’s a masterful balancing act, giving us both intimate character studies and a sweeping view of 20th century history.

A Voice That Pulls You In

One of the things I love most about Messud’s writing is her ability to create such vivid, fully-realized characters. Each member of the Cassar family feels startlingly alive on the page. You can practically hear the rasp in Gaston’s voice, see the worried furrow in Lucienne’s brow.

Messud has this uncanny knack for capturing the rhythms of thought and speech. Her prose often has a lyrical, stream-of-consciousness quality that pulls you deep into her characters’ minds. Take this passage, where François reflects on his childhood in Algeria:

“He remembered the shabby row house off the Boulevard Trumelet in Blida, to which his family had decamped after his father abandoned them, when he was about Chloe’s age. He had slept there in one bed with his much older brother, Charles, while Yvonne slept with their mother in the other—Marie Louise had already run off by then—and the one window at the front gave onto a busy street where horse-drawn carts and motorcars threw up dust, which coated the sheets and furniture and their clothes.”

It’s like you’re right there with François, sifting through the detritus of memory. Messud’s writing has a tactile quality – you can almost feel the grit of that dust between your fingers.

A Meditation on Home and Belonging

At its heart, “This Strange Eventful History” is a profound meditation on what it means to belong. The Cassars are perpetual outsiders, never quite at home anywhere. In Algeria, they’re French colonials, set apart from the native population. But when they’re forced to leave, they find themselves adrift in a France that doesn’t quite know what to do with them.

Messud explores the complexities of cultural identity with nuance and sensitivity. She shows how the trauma of displacement can echo through generations, creating a persistent sense of rootlessness. François carries the weight of his pied-noir heritage even as he tries to build a new life in Australia. Barbara, raised in Toronto, struggles to understand her husband’s complicated relationship with his past.

There’s a poignant scene where François visits his aging parents in Toulon, France. His mother, suffering from dementia, keeps asking when they’ll return to their home in Algiers – a home that no longer exists. It’s a heartbreaking moment that encapsulates the novel’s themes of loss and longing.

A Master of Her Craft

This isn’t Messud’s first rodeo, of course. She’s the acclaimed author of novels like “The Emperor’s Children” and “The Woman Upstairs.” But “This Strange Eventful History” feels like a culmination of her talents, a book she’s been building towards her whole career.

Her control of language is breathtaking. Messud can craft sentences that make you want to stand up and applaud. But she’s not just showing off – every flourish serves the story, deepening our understanding of the characters and their world.

What really impressed me is how she manages to maintain such intimacy while covering such a vast expanse of time and space. The novel jumps between decades and continents, but it never feels disjointed. Messud has an unerring sense of when to zoom in for a close-up and when to pull back for a wider view.

A Story for Our Times

Though it’s set primarily in the past, “This Strange Eventful History” feels startlingly relevant to our current moment. In an era of global migration and refugee crises, the Cassars’ story of displacement and adaptation resonates deeply.

Messud doesn’t shy away from the thorny issues of colonialism and its aftermath. She shows how the sins of empire continue to reverberate through the decades, shaping lives and relationships in ways both subtle and profound.

There’s a scene where François, now living in Australia, encounters an Aboriginal man. It’s a brief moment, but it’s fraught with unspoken tension – the weight of history hanging between them. Messud doesn’t belabor the point, but it’s a powerful reminder of how the past is always present.

Not Without Its Challenges

Now, I’ll be honest – this isn’t always an easy read. Messud demands a lot from her readers. The narrative jumps around in time, and there’s a large cast of characters to keep track of. I found myself flipping back to earlier chapters more than once to refresh my memory.

And at times, the sheer weight of history can feel overwhelming. There were moments when I wanted to grab the characters and shake them, to tell them to stop letting the past define them. But of course, that’s easier said than done – and it’s part of what makes the novel so compelling.

Some readers might find the pacing a bit slow, especially in the early sections. Messud takes her time setting up the historical context and family dynamics. But trust me, it pays off. By the time you reach the later chapters, you’re so invested in these characters that you can’t bear to leave them.

A Book That Stays With You

In the end, “This Strange Eventful History” is the kind of novel that changes you. It expands your understanding of the world, makes you think differently about concepts like home and identity. I finished it feeling both exhilarated and a little bit wrung out – in the best possible way.

Messud has given us a deeply humane book, one that grapples with big ideas while never losing sight of the individual lives at its center. It’s a story about the ways we carry our history with us, about the stories we tell ourselves to make sense of our place in the world.

As I closed the book, I found myself thinking about my own family’s history, the migrations and displacements that brought me to where I am now. That’s the mark of a truly great novel, isn’t it? One that not only transports you to another world, but also makes you see your own world differently.

So, do yourself a favor. Clear your schedule, brew a pot of tea (or pour a glass of wine), and settle in with “This Strange Eventful History.” It’s a journey well worth taking – and one you won’t soon forget.

P.S. If you’re looking for similar reads, you might check out Yaa Gyasi’s “Homegoing” or Viet Thanh Nguyen’s “The Sympathizer.” Both deal with themes of colonialism and displacement in ways that complement Messud’s novel beautifully. Happy reading!