THE PAIN OF PLEASURE

In her second novel, Loyd explores how suffering and our efforts to escape it define us.

The Doctor has left his ex-wife’s pain-management practice to launch his own with the support of Adele Watson, a wealthy migraine sufferer. Mrs. Watson is worried about the Doctor’s attachment to Sarah, a former patient who has disappeared. She enlists Ruth Aitken, a nurse she’s just hired, to slip into the Doctor’s office and make a copy of Sarah’s journal. Ruth has her own wounds, both physical and emotional. A philosophical sort, the Doctor asks himself, “At what cost do we wish to be cured of what we are?” This is a provocative question, and a headache clinic in the basement of a deconsecrated Catholic church in Brooklyn seems like a better place than most to ask it. But readers who want full-bodied characters and a story that goes somewhere might not stick around long enough to arrive at an answer. Loyd is a sensuous writer who lingers over details—all the details. Sometimes this is effective, as in a scene in which Mrs. Watson overcomes Ruth’s psychological defenses with wine and Giovanni Battista Pergolesi’s Stabat Mater. But, even here, the lushness and drama don’t seem to mean anything. The author does an incredible job of bringing the reader into her world without offering enough information to understand why Ruth is so susceptible to Mrs. Watson’s seduction—or how Mrs. Watson might know precisely how to bend Ruth to her purpose. As it turns out, Loyd is at her most evocative when she says the least. Throughout the novel, there are references to powerful winds sweeping through New York. Of course, no 21st-century reader needs an explanation for aberrant, alarming weather, and Loyd’s choice to just make this part of the background of her fictional world creates a wonderfully eerie undertone.

A slow-moving narrative peopled by underdeveloped characters.