Carol Drinkwater
The Lost Girl is a significant, groundbreaking novel about our troubled times. The stories of two women, born decades apart, breathes life into well documented periods of history. Marguerite, the actress, was a young woman in France during the forties. Kurtiz, a photographic journalist, began her emotional journey in the nineties. The poignant parallel between the life experiences of Marguerite’s and Kurtiz provides the engaging narrative structure of this novel.
Marguerite and Kurtiz meet in a Paris bistro, on the fatal night of November 2015. Kurtiz is searching for her missing daughter and husband. Loneliness drives Marguerite to visit the bistro daily, thus she is delighted to have an audience for her memories.
The tension surrounding Kurtiz’s search for her daughter, Lizzie, made me afraid to read on. We all know what happened, we all watched the news footage of the terrible events in Paris. This novel takes the reader into the centre of the action, via Kurtiz, and makes your heart ache with her anxiety.
‘She hugged the building, bouncing her shoulders off walls as she advanced, keeping herself clear of the line of fire…’
This happened in Paris, in 2015, and we are taken into the heart of the terrorism. This is such a stark contrast to the relaxed scene before the attack. The guests in the bar were ‘such fresh young faces rouged by the cold November air, energized by life. Paris gearing up for the weekend.’ As a reader, one instantly connects with the irony of the statement, and raw emotions are exposed.
We view the atrocities of Paris, 2015, through the lens of Kurtiz’s camera, filtered with the anxiety for her daughter and husband. The rhythm of the camera clicking is conveyed in the pace of the language and repetition; a vivid visualization of the scene.
‘Heads in laps, heads thrown backwards, eyes closed or open, staring, dead-eyed, fisheyed. Locked in a nightmare.
The fragility of civilization is cracked via the words! This document of events is then viewed through Kurtiz who asks, ‘Was he shielding Lizzie? Was she also in the old theatre at gunpoint, or had she managed to escape?’ I was there, with Kurtiz shouting ‘LIZZIE!’ My head pounding with the intensity, involuntary tears escaping.
The terrorism in Paris is contrasted with Kurtiz’s time in the Middle East where a mother loses her son. Kurtiz worked a photographer in conflict zones, in the Middle East . During Kurtiz’s time in the Middle East the reader observes her despair at the death of the young boy, whilst also gaining insight her relationship with her daughter.
Kurtiz’s emotional life is explored from the beginning of her relationship with Oliver, her husband. The tenderness and hope of love is beautifully conveyed after her first night with Oliver. She wakes up to the ‘glorious summer morning. A morning like no other, blossoms abounding, soaking up the heat, bees and butterflies flitting from one flower head to another.’
Similarly, the colours of Marguerite’s love for Charlie are conveyed in La Cote d’Azur when ‘she was happy. She was energised, shot through with a rush of joy as she had rarely known before.’ Until then, Marguerite’s joy had been blighted with events that happened during a screen test: such a relevant message in the wake of the #metoo campaign.
Perspective shifts from close-up of the character’s life to the long shot of the world issues. The texture of this novel reliant on skilful blending of time-frames and layers of emotions. Marguerite felt ‘such a tangle of emotions’ while Kurtiz deals with ‘more emotions than she would ever be able to identify’. The movement from disequilibrium to disequilibrium across time-frames is both exhausting and powerful.
I lingered on each word and viewed the book from different angles. There were infinite and subtle shades of colour in this outstanding writing. Drinkwater explores the shifting light between troubled times and people’s lives. The cruelty of war, cruelty of innocence and cruelty of waiting are explored in the perfect language choices.
Like Kurtiz, I released a ‘strangled cry’ as I moved towards the end of the novel. Marguerite’s loss continues to ‘gnaw’ at my thoughts. Despite the trauma, there is a message of hope. This novel rendered me speechless. I cared deeply for the characters, and the power of the mother’s love guided me until the end. The emotional landscape of this novel will never leave me!
I would like to thank Carol Drinkwater for this brave and beautiful novel.
In an interview about The Lost Girl, Carol told me:
‘It is a story with a miracle at its heart and, from time to time, we all need one of those. Through the bleakest of days, though we may not be aware of it, hope and redemption are always present. The light always returns. The sun always rises.’
Carol discusses The Lost Girl, in my Chat Room. Find out about the inspiration behind the novel and what motivates Carol to write.
About Carol Drinkwater:
Carol is an award-winning actress and Sunday Times bestselling writer. She was probably most famous for her role of Helen Herriot in the fantastically popular TV series, All Creatures Great and Small. She lives on an olive farm in the south of France with her husband, Michel, and several dogs.
Carol’s Contact Details:
olivefarmbooks@gmail.com
agent: Jonathan Lloyd at Curtis Brown
website: www.caroldrinkwater.com
Twitter: @Carol4OliveFarm
Please see all my book reviews at Books In Handbag and my website and blog at JessieCahalin.com.
