The Affairs of Others: A Novel

Since The Affairs of Others is a first-person narrative told through Celia’s point of view and with her observations and opinions, one’s enjoyment of the novel hinges on whether one finds Celia a credible narrator. A young, financially independent widow with sadomasochistic tendencies and a penchant for hiding from the world may cause some readers to cringe at the self-pity and self-imposed seclusion while also causing them to feel horrible for doing so. For Celia’s actions, especially regarding her behavior on the subway, have their roots in a tragic loss that Ms. Lloyd exquisitely captures, and readers will simultaneously wish Celia to snap out of her malaise and completely sympathize with her inability to work through her show more grief. It is a complicated reaction to an even more complicated scenario.

Confusing the situation even further is Hope’s arrival in Celia’s apartment and into her life. Hope’s behavior is equally disturbing and yet surprisingly understandable given the demise of her long-lived marriage. It takes no great stretch of one’s imagination to envision Hope’s guilt at the end of her marriage and need for self-flagellation in the form of an abusive relationship. Just like with Celia’s behavior, readers will find Hope’s equally repellent and refreshingly real. The dichotomies of feelings these characters create make The Affairs of Others a somewhat uncomfortable read.

Really, all of Celia’s tenants do generate the same contrasting emotions, while Hope and Celia create the strongest reactions. Chosen for their need for solitude as much as for Celia’s desire for a little supplemental income, they mirror Celia’s own need for isolation and her conflicting tendencies. This character-fueled novel is as much about coming to terms with the need for internal and external compromise as it is about overcoming and moving on from a tragic loss.

For all of the negativity within all of the characters but especially within Celia and Hope, the story ends on a surprising note of optimism and tenderness. If this understandably dismal group of individuals can heal and continue to live, then so can even the most desperate of readers. Their stories intertwine in unanticipated ways that soothe the disquiet that inhabits most of the story. For all a reader’s discomfiture through the novel, the sense of a new beginning that arrives at the end of the novel is not only a suitable ending, it is one that readers can appreciate more fully specifically because it is the end of a long and sometimes painful journey. Amy Grace Lloyd’s The Affairs of Others might not be a showy novel, but readers will find its quiet exploration of pain and loss satisfying. show less

Spoiler alert! I must have read good reviews of this book, but I was a little disappointing. The main character was kind of alienating. And I felt bad for the guy who left his orchids behind, along with all his other nice stuff. The assuaging of grief through violent or ugly sex was a little overwhelming; I'm not saying it doesn't happen but it was a little too much. I don't know, I told my sister that it was weird in a way that isn't the kind of weird that appeals to me. I guess a person could write a while, trying to analyze the main character, but it doesn't seem worth it to me. I think she should get some help to get over her guilt.

Grief and depression go hand in hand. And sometimes when they overwhelm a person, it is hard to go on being connected to the world. In Amy Grace Loyd's novel, The Affairs of Others, the main character has deliberately and intentionally closed herself off from others but her carefully constructed barriers are about to be crossed.

Celia is 30 and she's been widowed for several years, having lost her husband to cancer. After his death, she bought a brownstone composed of four apartments, three of which she rents out to others. She's vetted her tenants very carefully so that they stay self-contained and don't create any drama that might interfere with her isolation. When her upstairs neighbor has the chance to go to France, he brings in a show more subletter named Hope, a beautiful and vibrant woman who has been betrayed by her husband of many years. Celia is attracted to the pulsing life in Hope and she can't help but hear all of the goings on upstairs, the result of Hope's new dangerous and abusive affair, being reluctantly drawn in to Hope's messy, troubled life and then to her other tenants' lives as well.

Celia values privacy above all else although she has always had a detached interest in her tenants' comings and goings. She has no close relationships herself, holding herself remote from the possibility of feeling emotional pain like she experienced during her husband's illness. So her eventual intrusion into the lives of her neighbors is very definitely an unlooked for intimacy. She narrates her own story in semi stream of consciousness, resulting in a very reflective and sometimes navel-gazing tale. Unfortunately, Celia's remoteness extends to the reader's feelings about her as well, making her not very likable. The other characters, Hope; the elderly Mr. Caughlin, a former ferry captain who goes missing; and Angie Braunstein, whose husband leaves her when their dreams no longer coincide are not fully developed, perhaps because of Celia's long standing lack of desire to know those around her, and as such don't feel three dimensional. Celia's self-destructive and anonymous grasping at life in her random Metro encounters are tawdry and don't help her to become a character with whom the reader wants to spend more time.

The writing here is meandering and self-conscious, occasionally overwritten. The tone never really lifts out of depressing, making the whole novel feel as if there's a damp grey cloth smothering it, even where the end is meant to show hope for the future. Celia learning that continued life is about connection and that shutting herself off from it shuts her out of any meaningful life feels muted as well. This is a very character driven, psychological novel that had so much sadly unrealized potential and I was glad to finally turn the last page. show less

Celia is quite something---what starts as the experiences of a young widow becomes an exploration of a woman alone and her emotional extremes that she keeps quite hidden.....until she is exposed.....on purpose? The lives of the people in her rental house are so intertwined over time and we find more and more about them and about Celia as she "invades" their lives. Celia becomes part of the affairs of others, something she thought she was trying hard to avoid.

This is a thought provoking and nicely drawn portrayal of a young widow who is coming to terms with the loss of her husband. She is the owner of an apartment building and centers on the evolving relationships that she has with her tenants. These are an intriguing group that include a masochistic couple. an environmentalist and an elderly man whose daughter feels should be in a nursing home. Celia, the main character is a bit of a non threatening voyeur and the way she treats her tenants and their homes. This is a well written book and I can see why it is receiving all the acclaim that it is getting.

3.5 stars

I enjoyed Loyd's writing, but found that I wasn't all that curious about the characters. I do appreciate how she created a tiny world inside a Brooklyn brownstone that was converted to apartments.

This started off okay, when I was hopeful that it was going to be about awful people having a comeuppance, but it turned out that no, the book was about the awful people. While it is true that poor decisions can be the basis for interesting stories, it's not automatic. All the poor decisions depicted here are tiresome.

Overall, I'm embarrassed it was set in New York.