In the quiet corridors of contemporary literature, Claire-Louise Bennett's latest novel, Big Kiss, Bye-Bye, published by Fitzcarraldo Editions, emerges as a piercing exploration of heartbreak and self-deception. Released earlier this year, the book delves into the psyche of an unnamed young woman navigating the aftermath of a breakup with her eccentric elderly partner, Xavier. Drawing on modernist traditions, Bennett crafts a narrative that scrutinizes the fragile illusions sustaining human connections, echoing T.S. Eliot's poignant observation in Four Quartets: "humankind Cannot bear very much reality."
The story unfolds through the narrator's introspective lens, revealing a relationship marked by mismatched expectations and profound isolation. According to a detailed review in The Conversation, the novel centers on the psychological collision between the protagonist, a writer much like Bennett herself, and Xavier, a wealthy Christian scientist whose grip on reality is described as tenuous at best. Their separation is triggered by a brutally honest email from Xavier, in which he dismisses her recently published book as "some sort of Hell," shattering any lingering illusions of his sensitivity.
Bennett, known for her innovative storytelling, builds on the success of her previous works. Her debut, Pond, released in 2015, consisted of interconnected vignettes about a reclusive woman in a remote Irish cottage, earning praise for its lyrical prose. This was followed by Checkout 19 in 2021, a semi-autobiographical novel tracing a young woman's growth through literature, blending autofiction with elements of the Künstlerroman genre. Big Kiss, Bye-Bye marks her third major publication, and reviewers note its heightened desperation, intelligence, and irreverence, pushing boundaries in examining consciousness and everyday complexities.
At the heart of the novel is Xavier, portrayed as a comically self-absorbed figure with dentures and time-worn eccentricities. He adheres to Christian Science beliefs, insisting that "sickness is an illusion," and views friendship as something "for children." His possessiveness is evident in his inability to understand why the narrator engages in activities that do not involve him. Xavier has even penned a self-indulgent autobiography, affectionately dubbed his "bio," which includes intimate details about the narrator without regard for her privacy. He dreams of adapting it into a film, further underscoring his detachment from others' perspectives.
The narrator's recollections, delivered in a non-linear fashion, provide intimate glimpses into their shared life. One particularly telling incident occurs when she hands Xavier a copy of her book. He acknowledges its intelligence by saying, "how smart it was," only to pivot immediately to the author photo, commenting on her "cute little ears." This undermines her intellectual accomplishment, redirecting attention to her physicality in a way that highlights the power imbalances in their dynamic.
The novel opens with their final encounter at the races on Lady’s Day, an event Xavier relishes for the sight of women dressed up, though the narrator believes he avoids close scrutiny to preserve his illusions of sophistication. As she reflects, Xavier is "rather fond of illusions 'and is of the opinion that there isn’t much else.'" He frequently declares, “Life is an illusion,” he’ll say, “but then you already know that, don’t you.” Yet, he positions his worldview as superior, telling her, “I don’t see you as your friends see you. I see you as you really are.” The narrator humors him, maintaining a facade to remain palatable in his eyes.
Throughout their partnership, the narrator actively sustains these illusions. In one instance, she reassures Xavier that a dress she wears was bought with money he provided, despite it not being true. She even deliberates over flower arrangements, opting for modesty while allowing him the fantasy of generosity with extravagant sums. These acts, as detailed in the review, reveal her complicity in perpetuating a relationship built on artifice, where she panders to his desire to provide, granting him an "artificial sense of accomplishment."
Bennett's prose masterfully captures the narrator's internal conflicts, blending feminist aspirations for equality in heterosexual relationships with the universal craving for love and desirability. The protagonist grapples with an inflated sense of responsibility toward Xavier, predicated on the notion of being his "last love" in his final days. This mock-heroic fortitude stems from her statistical musings on destiny, underscoring the novel's theme of manufactured ideas overshadowing reality.
Dreams play a pivotal role in the narrative, serving as a conduit for self-knowledge. The narrator delights in recounting and interpreting them, believing they hold truths suspended in the uncanny. This modernist preoccupation with the mind's workings mirrors Eliot's rose garden in Burnt Norton, where unopened doors lead to mythic revelations. As the review notes, the book dissects how both characters remain wedded to fantasies about each other rather than their authentic selves, resulting in a profound failure to connect.
Beyond the central relationship, the novel extends to the narrator's broader experiences with men. She receives a letter from a former English teacher that awakens dormant memories, prompting reflections on past connections. Her self-awareness is both acute and contradictory; she admits to being the type of writer who prefers not to be conscious of herself during the act of writing, yet her prose is replete with sentences beginning with "I."
Anxiety permeates her worldview, leading to paranoid episodes where she imagines all the men in her life—even the frail Xavier—plotting against her. She confesses, “all my life I’ve felt something was after me and to my own irritation I looked behind too often and kept seeing things.” This paranoia, the review suggests, fuels her creativity while highlighting the disjuncture between perception and reality, a recurring motif that reinforces humanity's refuge in illusions.
Critics have lauded Bennett's ability to navigate potentially flat material with flair and ambition, avoiding sentimentality in this thrillingly interior work. The Conversation's analysis emphasizes how Big Kiss, Bye-Bye resonates with predecessors like Eliot, offering a forensic examination of relational illusions without overt judgment. No conflicting reports on the novel's content have surfaced, though interpretations may vary among readers drawn to its experimental style.
As Bennett's oeuvre evolves, Big Kiss, Bye-Bye solidifies her reputation for probing the overlooked intricacies of daily life and mental landscapes. Published amid a surge in autofiction and introspective literature, the book invites comparisons to works exploring emotional rupture, such as Rachel Cusk's Outline trilogy or Sally Rooney's relational dissections, though Bennett's voice remains distinctly her own—playful yet unflinching.
Looking ahead, Bennett's next projects remain undisclosed, but her trajectory suggests continued innovation in form and theme. For readers and critics alike, Big Kiss, Bye-Bye serves as a reminder of literature's power to unpack the illusions we cling to, fostering greater self-understanding in an often illusory world. Availability through Fitzcarraldo Editions has sparked discussions in literary circles, with early reviews positioning it as a standout in 2024's releases.
The novel's release coincides with broader conversations about mental health and relational dynamics in post-pandemic literature, where themes of isolation and fantasy have gained prominence. While some may find its solipsistic focus challenging, others praise its exquisite prose and delicate handling of conflicting desires, ensuring Big Kiss, Bye-Bye will endure as a vital contribution to modern fiction.