Drag by Marie-Christine Arbour (review)

man of forty, photographer, father of a boy about to be bar mitzvah. Sacha is the son of Holocaust survivors, and had been married to a non-Jew; Anna grew up in a strictly observant family. When Simon presents himself to the Yom Kippur eve dinner sitting between Anna and their daughter, he declares that Anna will never have her “guet,” the religious divorce, which only the husband can grant. Simon’s use of blackmail worsens throughout the novel. If Sacha is Anna’s redemption, Simon is her living hell. Anna struggles with her new love and her old religious beliefs. She and Sacha are soulmates, certain that their lives are connected : “un fil inexplicable enlaçait nos vies, comme s’il n’y avait que nous deux, qui avions échappé à ce singulier tropisme: ce fil rouge qui nous reliait tout en nous séparant” (62). Simon, outwardly pure and inwardly hypocritical, has completely neglected all the commandments of a religious husband to his wife: he has abused her, mocked her, but this is not what the community sees—he is very good at pretense. The reaction of those around Anna is typical. She is anathema; the blame for the failed marriage is all hers: “Moi, j’étais comme la peste: j’avais quitté mon mari. J’avais brisé le tabou. Tout était ma faute, sous ma responsabilité [...] J’étais coupable” (82). On a Sabbath evening, finally, Anna yields to Sacha, knowing that according to Jewish law, she is now an adulteress. Simon will grant her “guet” only if she turns over all her money to him, but as we learn later, it is never enough. In the meantime, Anna has begun to feel and understand what real love can be. Unfortunately, Simon is sadistic to such a degree that he makes the daughter’s life miserable when she is with him. The Rabbinical Council is useless as well. Anna is “agouna,” she is the anchor that will never be let go. If she wants happiness, she may never have it. After all, the Council is made up of men who fear the loss of their power over women if they grant one her freedom. Anna turns towards a female lawyer to seek the annulment of her marriage: “Monsieur le Grand Rabbin de France [...] ces hommes se servent du judaïsme contre la femme juive, ces maris se servent du guet pour asservir les femmes. Et ce calvaire n’est pas infligé seulement par ces hommes mais par les représentants actuels du judaïsme: responsables passifs ou actifs de cette abomination, cette torture psychologique, physique et morale des femmes aujourd’hui” (197). From “ketoubbah” (marriage contract) to “mamzer” (bastard) to “mikvah” (ritual bath), Abécassis infuses the story with religious vocabulary. Her knowledge of Orthodox law and Jewish custom is accurate and extensive. She underlines an important issue to Orthodox Jewish women: an antiquated system of marriage, placing men in charge of the emotional well-being of women. A religious woman, wishing to stay Orthodox, truly cannot, if her husband is unwilling to let her divorce with the blessing of the synagogue. Abécassis’s novel is powerful, concise, filled with introspection and doubt. A Jewish reader will find it easier to follow the doctrinal issues, but any female will identify with the anguish Anna suffers. Alliance Française de Santa Rosa (CA) Davida Brautman ARBOUR, MARIE-CHRISTINE. Drag. Montréal: Triptyque, 2011. ISBN 978-2-89031-709-3. Pp. 183. $20 Can. Arbour’s third novel challenges traditional notions of romantic love in the Reviews 207 gender-bending couple of “Babouchka and John,” a.k.a. Nicolaï and Claire. As the opening line of the prologue (“Il est apparu”) predicts, the narrative eventually comes to center around the resplendent character of Russian-born pianist Nicolaï, a white-haired transvestite living a very sparse yet lavish existence in Vancouver. The second sentence, “Elle ose regarder,” introduces the observant perspective of Claire, the thirty-something aspiring artist from Montreal, who seems to hover between genders in mind and body. While Claire is ostensibly the more prominent character of the book, it is her view of Nicolaï that captures the reader...