"No one had ever been happy in her family."

A decaying, irreparable portrait of a bourgeois family, Duras' debut novel, The Impudent Ones, struggles with its initially wavering focus on its characters.

A daughter-in-law's death perturbs the Grant-Taneran family. The event prompts them to move to their residence in Uderan in the hopes that it will do Mrs Grant's bereaved but vile son, Jacques, some good. But the supposed bereaved Jacques seems to have other things in mind. He is determined to retain the Grant-Taneran's family status amidst their dwindling finances. He eagerly takes on the patriarchal role while their father, who stays on in their house in Paris, remains absent throughout the novel. From bullying his younger sister, neglected Maud, influencing their sycophant, younger brother, Henry, to manipulating their mother for money, it unfolds a remarkable, at times irritating, family drama under the gaze of the Uderan townspeople. With their mother always favouring and excusing Jacques' actions, he only becomes more confident in executing his wicked ways.

Meanwhile, the depressed and discouraged Maud looks on helplessly with their circumstances. By planning to marry her off to a man she doesn't love, her brother and mother use her family position to try saving the Grant-Taneran's place in the social class ladder. In her desperation, Maud readily clings to the first man who catches her eye. Perhaps, for a time, even her heart. She runs away and slips out several nights, mistaking the guise of escape as love and fastening herself with the deceitful promise of this escape—scandals be damned! Indeed, a part of the novel encourages her to take on vengeance against her brother. But even this turns out to be futile. Her confining circumstances is glaringly conspicuous after this attempt.

The Impudent Ones' tragically delineates women's lack of choices in an era where they expect to please men in their life at the expense of their individuality. In her unquenchable thirst for love and attention, she gives herself to someone she can't even have any meaningful conversations with; a call out to her parents' loveless relationship; an implication of her and her mother's own internalised sexism. Her days stretch into lasting unhappiness. The familial prison she escapes from puts her in a different prison.

Duras' prose meanders, with a pinch of elusiveness, here and there. A dull quality submerges some of its sentiments. Yet, whenever it clicks, it lucidly reveals the despairing dispositions of human nature. More so, the lengths people will do to keep their reputation polished despite its rusting corners. To think of it as a debut novel and a partly autobiographical sketch forgive its shortcomings. It highlights the distinct qualities that made Duras one of the most celebrated writers in the world. Do colour me gratified with The Impudent Ones; it also elbowed me to seek Duras' other writings. The Lover shall be next on the list.

Thank you, The New Press and Netgalley, for the advance copy. ( )