PERMANENCE

Illicit lovers suddenly find themselves in an alternate universe.

“There had been many hotel rooms for the adulterers, currently peacefully asleep in a large white bed. Enough to qualify them as experts, connoisseurs.” But one morning Francis, a married man with a child, and Clara, his unmarried younger mistress, awaken in a suite they’ve never seen before. Outside they find a beautiful city filled with cafes and parks, entirely populated by pairs of lovers. “The light was golden. The sky was uncannily blue. Violin music swooped through the air.” The fourth novel from Mackintosh, this dreamy fable is lighter in tone than its dystopian predecessors, though the “city of impermanence”—they never find out its actual name—is not quite as idyllic as it seems. As the story progresses, the pair find themselves whisked back and forth between realities according to a mechanism whose nature unfolds only slowly, and which, like every detail in the novel, resonates with metaphorical import. For example, reproductions of the painting before which Francis and Clara originally met, “Still Life with Cherries and Mouse,” appear in several locations throughout the dream city, though its elements change subtly over time. The extramarital affair has a venerable history in literature and Mackintosh’s approach here is refreshing, innovative, and morally nonpartisan, with the lovers’ fate determined by factors inherent to the nature of their bond, rather than by exposure, judgment, or other conventional forms of punishment. Cheaters rarely receive this gentle a treatment.

A philosophical meditation on adultery filled with longing and sweetness.