In her second novel One Woman Show, Christine Coulson tells the life story of a wealthy American woman, Kitty Whittaker, through the inventive format of descriptive museum wall labels, the kind which are usually found beside artworks in galleries.
Coulson worked for the Museum of Metropolitan Art in New York for 25 years and got the idea to write her novel when she was writing the wall labels for the Met’s British Galleries.
The restrictive nature of the labels, sometimes as little as 50 or 60 words, is a constraint that gives One Woman Show both a limiting and expansive effect – the reader can only be given so much information, but this provides liberation to fill in the gaps for themselves.
Coulson’s careful curation of every word means we get a strong impression of Kitty and her supporting characters from the start. Kitty’s story begins in 1911, when she is five years old, and Coulson takes us through several marriages, friendships, losses and even an encounter with Pablo Picasso, with lots of arch observations on manners, morals, and social mores for levity. There is great enjoyment too in the waspy nicknames she gives her characters from Bucky and Bunty, to Whippy and Corkie.
‘Lots of guests got tattooed’: Jack Reynor and best man Sam Keeley on his wedding, making speeches and remaining friends
Forêt restaurant review: A masterclass in French classic cooking in Dublin 4
I went to the cinema to see Small Things Like These. By the time I emerged I had concluded the film was crap
Charlene McKenna: ‘Within three weeks, I turned 40, had my first baby and lost my father’
The book is so brief that it can be read straight through in an hour, but that is not to say it is slight. Kitty is a pinball that rebounds off the major historical events of the 20th century and this, as well as the inclusion of Kitty’s deeply personal struggles, results in a character of huge pathos and empathy.
The occasional snippets of conversation or quotes from the era have the effect of interrupting an otherwise immersive experience. These snippets may have also been the author’s way of exempting herself from the formal constraints of the labels whenever she wanted to.
As with the labels in museums, you can never tell the full story in so few words and I did find myself at times longing for the fleshed-out version of this clever sketch. This is, however, a highly original and imaginative work that captivates and intrigues. Coulson’s unusual command of language rewards multiple readings. It is probably best summed up by her American publisher’s initial response to the manuscript – “bananas brilliant”.
