Fugitive Pieces by Anne Michaels

Anne Michaels is a poet living in Toronto; her first novel, Fugitive Pieces, was published to great acclaim in 1997. I read the novel in one sitting. Like Sophie’s Choice by William Styron, I feared it might be too harrowing to read in instalments. And now I have read it again and again. It is one of the most powerful novels I have read in recent years: unbearably moving, compelling, beautifully written. I dip into exquisite passages that are painful, healing, tragic, uplifting: part prose, part poetry, that reel round in my head and must be re-read, savoured, like the chapter when the poet, Jakob Beer falls in love with the young Michaela. We too fear that she will reject him physically – he is too old and ugly – then share his wonderment as her returned love heals his severed emotions. He marvels at being ‘saved by such a small body’. Anne Michael’s sensual, tender prose is sheer mastery as she describes their fusion of body, mind and spirit. No wonder it took the author ten years to complete the novel.
Fast forward towards the end of the novel. Ben, a university teacher and researcher, explores the house Jacob and Michaela once shared on a Greek island. We engage with him, as intimate with those who lived there as he is with Jakob’s poetry. Anne Michaels’ attention to detail is totally absorbing and satisfying as she conveys the spirit of the place through Ben’s narration. He alludes to lines of Jakob’s poetry, describes objects left behind, even remarking on the impact his body had on the sofa or worn shoes left behind. I find myself affirming that one day I too must live ‘a life so achingly simple: days spent in thought and companionship’. Ben remarks, ‘You sat on this terrace at this table, and wrote as if every man lives this way’. Is this a wake-up call to follow our hearts and find fulfilment like Jakob, before we die?
Jacob Beer’s broken-ness and survival are a testament to the endurance of the spirit and the power of human love. His sudden death in a road accident fifty years after surviving the Holocaust reminded me of a survivor from Cambodia, ironically gunned down in Los Angeles years later. Reading Fugitive Pieces reinforced feelings that life is fragile, elusive, incredibly sad, complex, beautiful but above all, must be lived. Rarely does a first novel make this impact, but Anne Michaels is an extraordinary, accomplished writer. Read it and judge for yourself.

(Originally published in New Writer magazine)