review - evidence of love

"Evidence of Love"
Melissa McConnell
(Harvest)



In this day and age, it’s odd to read a book set jointly in New York City and Washington D.C. and not have the September 11 attacks cast a shroud, whether directly or indirectly, on the narrative. Perhaps that’s why it seems so jarring when a character in “Evidence of Love” travels to the World Trade Center – as though the book were published not in 2005, but in a slightly more innocent time.

The story, which takes place in a semi-fictional recent past (JFK Jr.’s plane still crashes, but the President is a construct like those on “The West Wing” or “24”), follows Catherine, publicist and speechwriter for the Vice President. Her job isn’t as glamorous as it sounds – her days are filled with tedious proofreading processes and annoying calls from heavy-drinking Russian publishing moguls – but she took the job to be with her fiancé Harry, an adviser to the president, a sacrifice well worth it. Until the day Harry disappears, leaving only a note.

Puzzled and distraught, Catherine is forced to go about her daily routine, wondering where the relationship went awry – until she’s notified of a tragedy that may have taken Harry, and all of the answers she wants, away from her permanently.

As she copes with Harry’s departure and the subsequent tragic event, she finds support from her fellow White House staff, many of whom who are also coping with grief, including the widowed Vice-President. Even though Harry is gone, she discovers he still has a profound impact on her day-to-day life. But what Catherine slowly learns is that Harry had been hiding secrets from her for a long time, secrets that may or may not be hers to discover.

“Evidence of Love” is a wonderfully human story, exploring grief in the way it’s often experienced – with a vague, numbing detachment instead of garment rending soap opera dramatics. As a result, the poetic narrative often feels like it is being viewed through curtains, filled with gauzy images of love, loss, and longing. It’s hard to imagine a distinct audience for this book – it’s not quite love story, not quite sob story, not quite mystery – but its intangible qualities are such that it’s equally hard to find a reason not to recommend it. Though the plot points behind the novel could have easily been made a political thriller, (and probably have been, somewhere) instead first-time author McConnell weaves something softer; and though less easy to define, it’s no less profound.