Evan S. Connell wrote Mrs. Bridge in 1959. It is a smallish (246 pages) novel that is divided into 117 chapters. It hasn't, strictly speaking, got a plot. Or a grabber of a first chapter. Or a big boffo Hollywood finish. It doesn't follow through on some surprising things, such as the birth of Mrs. Bridge's first grandchild. India Bridge is not in the least a heroine. She wants life to go on much the same as it has always gone on. Most of the time she gets her wish.

The novel traces the passage of time (the 1920s through the 1940s) in the life of Mrs. Bridge, an upper-middle-class mother of three in Kansas City, Missouri. She is a kind, conventional woman, subservient to her husband. More than one chapter is devoted to the conundrum of having long days with nothing to do. Her brief rebellions do not succeed.

Ten years later, Connell published the companion novel: Mr. Bridge.Perhaps because Connell found the character of Walter Bridge more interesting than that of India Bridge, Mr Bridge is 367 pages long and contains 141 chapters. Mr. Bridge is rigidly conservative, highly intelligent, ambitious, and hard working. He has a passionate nature but represses his emotions. He's a complex and inconsistent racist, a simpler sexist. Christianity bores him. Walter G. Bridge is is not a warm and fuzzy guy.

Still no plot. Still dropped story lines. Still great.

It's interesting to me how both Mrs. Bridge and Mr. Bridge fail utterly on the basis of what a novel should do. Novels usually proceed in one direction: forward. With the Bridge novels, you can begin anywhere and proceed in any direction.

Why do they work? Because Connell treads very accurately through a subject people can relate to: their own awareness of their lives, how is awareness is different from how other people perceive them, and the level of despair in there sometimes. India and Walter's marriage is not loveless—far from it—yet they are constrained and repressed by the roles they think they should play.

Every character has two lives: Mr. and Mrs. Bridge, their children, their maid and their laundress, their friends and their acquaintances. Connell is adept at this kind of double-tracking.

He has a painter's sensibility. Each chapter resembles a still life, or a piece of the puzzle that is human character honestly considered.

It is easy to find good writing in the Bridge novels. Just open one at random and start reading. For example, here is how Connell describes the minister at the Congregationalist church that the Bridges attend:

He resembled a stout, pompous little druggist, the sixty-year-old face as vacant as a melon—a trifle sleek and epicene, almost shiny. Time was not darkening or blemishing the surface of the man, nor had years disturbed the liquid flow of his faith. Imperturbably he stood in his pulpit and perpetuated a vision for children. He stood so securely and lectured with such powerless conviction because he knew nothing else. He was a truly virtuous man, if not truly good. ( )

I saw the film first and read the book to find out whyever they decided to make a film of it! The book was much better - really enjoyed it. ( )