The Life to Come, the sixth novel by Sri Lankan-Australian author Michelle de Krester won her second Miles Franklin award, Australia’s most significant literary prize. The novel is a satire of contemporary Australians on race, class, privilege, migration, and the curated story of oneself. The book consists of five sections, telling loosely connected stories of the characters, spanning decades and across Sydney, Paris, and Sri Lanka (including a period when it was still called Ceylon). The subjects of critique are middle-class liberals, about which the author pushes past the surface of politeness, kindness, and progressiveness to expose their deeper flaws. Through scenes and conversations laden with scalding humour, the characters are believable and complex enough such that their shortcomings can perhaps be forgiven as limitations of their circumstances. In fact, the book is challenging because many of its critiques hit home. It makes readers cringe while laughing at someone who might as well be caricatures of ourselves.
This post focuses on the section between two female characters, Pippa and Céleste, to examine various topics placed under the novel’s light-hearted critical lens. Céleste, an Australian of Algerian descent, moved from her birth place Paris to Perth when she was a child, returned to Paris as an adult and continued to work there as a translator and English teacher. Céleste’s age and experience placed her at a vantage point different from Pippa’s, who appears in all five sections of the novel to varying degrees of involvement – or intrusion, depending on one’s opinion – in other characters’ lives. Pippa, a white middle-class Australian, is an aspiring writer based in Sydney. Having been awarded residency in Paris to research her second novel, she connected with Céleste at an ambassy party and since relied on her for insider’s tips to navigate the city.
It is interesting to note that the author channelled into her novel the insights and experience working for almost 10 years as an editor with the travel guide Lonely Planet. The ambivalence of travel – the notion of travellers seeking an authentic experience versus the reality of trite mass tourism is particularly relevant in this section of the novel.
Fussing About Coffee
Céleste found it hard to comprehend how Pippa and her fellow countrymen would come half across the globe to complain about trivialities like coffee, as if their lives depended on it. She mused on Pippa’s mumbling.
“French coffee, too, was a letdown – all the visiting Australians complained about it. The only drinkable brew, worth crossing Paris for, was found at a café in the Fourteenth run by a couple from Adelaide; they even served decaf almond lattes. Pippa’s predecessor in the studio had left the address. So much energy directed at coffee!” (de Kretser 123)
Best Selves on Social Media
Their friendship came to a watershed when bedridden Céleste received Pippa bringing her home made soup. After Céleste recovered, she was shocked to discover that Pippa shared the story on social media, complete with a picture showing how she carefully sourced ethical meat, basking in the glory of doing good and raving about it.
“Sitting up in bed after Pippa had gone away, drinking careful, delicious spoonfuls of chicken and leek soup, Céleste had cried. When she tried to wipe her eyes, tears ran down her wrists. It had been a day set apart from the rest like an illuminated letter on a white page. Now something precious that had belonged to Céleste belonged to the world – to everyone and no one. She stared at the photo of the chickens: Why not show them at the moment when their bodies parted from their heads? If Pippa were there, Céleste would have told her, If you’re going to eat meat, better not make a song and dance about her ethics.” (de Kretser 125)
The Good Person
Pippa committed a language mistake that alarmed her more than it should, for it ruined her standard of doing no wrong and presenting the spotless image.
“‘You should say vous to strangers. Tu is insulting.’ ‘Oh no – I keep forgetting,’ wailed Pippa. ‘I can’t believe I went and offended her!’ Panic had turned her face into a scrunched dishcloth. Céleste realised that Pippa would always need to demonstrate her solidarity with the oppressed – Indigenous people or battery hens, it scarcely mattered. Now she had added to the humiliations of a working-class cave dweller, and the photograph of herself captioned ‘A Good Person’ had been ripped in half. ‘Madame Kateb knows you’re a foreigner,’ said Céleste, taking pity. ‘It’s OK.’ ‘I should have it tattooed on my forehead: Forgive me, I’m Australian.’ (de Kretser 127-8)
Stereotypes
Pippa was consulting Céleste about the prospect of joining a cooking course in the countryside, to which Céleste mocked her of falling for the typical tourist trap.
“Céleste read: ‘For lovers of the authentic cuisine, full of rustic flavours and grandma secrets.’ ‘But it’s in the Jura,’ she said, as mystified as any Parisian by this desire to exchange the city for the provinces. ‘Why would anyone want to go there?’ ‘Aren’t the mountains something else?’ ‘Oh, the mountains!’ said Céleste, dismissing them. ‘All the real Parisians go away in August.’ Céleste, stung, said, ‘That’s a myth, like saying the French a always on strike.’ Pippa looked as if she had been slapped. Céleste wanted to shout, What makes you Australians think you can blunder about, expecting people to be nice? The silence between them stretched. It swelled to encompass August, and Céleste, abandoned even by Pippa, sitting at her keyboard in her shuttered room with only the daily statistics about holidaymaker fatalities to console her.” (de Kretser 130)
Tokenism
At the dinner party that Pippa hosted to celebrate her birthday, her fellow Australian guests made this remark about casually cooking and owning ethnic cuisines.
“Pippa served a lamb curry, a dish of spicy beans, coconut chutney and eggplant in a mustard sauce. She said, ‘I really got into Indian cooking last year.’ ‘See, that’s the great thing about globalisation,’ said Will. ‘You can get into Thai or Malaysian or Indian cuisine without ever having to know any Indians or Malaysians or Thais.’ (de Kretser 144)
Evading the Weight of History
Before Pippa was due to leave Paris, Céleste invited her for a visit to the Rodin Museum.
“’To be honest, museums depress me,’ said Pippa. Her red scarf lent a rosy cast to her face. ‘What am I meant to feel looking at all that stuff? Paris is so crushing.’ She broke a sprig from a hedge and began driving her thumbnail into each leaf. ‘I’ll be glad to get back to Sydney,’ she announced. ‘Everything hasn’t already been done there.’” (de Kretser 152)
This is a sampling of the lightweight stinging exchanges in the novel. Others dig deeper into social, economic, and political issues that I do not feel well versed enough to present an original discussion. Nonetheless, this post showcases de Kretser’s sharp wit and poignant observation which get one thinking and reflecting on the times and oneself.