The Review of Contemporary Fiction
Diary of an Adulterous Woman by Curt LeviantIrving Malin
Curt Leviant. Diary of an Adulterous Woman. Syracuse Univ. Press, 2001. 500 pp. $29.95
In addition to the main text of the novel, there is an odd “ABC Directory that offers alphabetical tidbits and surprises.” (This “Directory” is 111 pages.) Leviant plays with the notion of novels and endings, commentary and criticism. He employs a traditional Judaic format of text (Bible) and commentary (Midrash), but he does more: he shadows the great fiction of Nabokov and Borges. Leviant’s novel suggests that love and adultery are, among other things, language games; they are words that have no fixed meaning. It is impossible to omit wordplay from sex or love. Each main character tells a version of the affair(s). Each, in effect, uses language as stimulus or play or secret. Throughout the novel we cannot be sure of meaning. Consider: “Guido is as close as an Italian name can be to giudeo, the Italian word for Jew, and still sound like an Italian name. Since the Jews guided the morality of Western civilization, perhaps the word guido, or guide, evolved.” Guido plays sadistically with Charlie’s last name, “Perlmutter,” by calling him “Merlputter.” “Aviva” is a palindrome-it also means “spying” in Hebrew. And there is further play. Aviva seems to remind both Guido and Charlie of Ava-another palindrome-a woman they both shared in their college years. I could cite many other examples, but they would lead the reader to believe that this novel is simply an erudite puzzle. It is, indeed, a deeply moving demonstration that language has consequences, that it can be destructive. And the novel is a moral work. It ends with brutality, with inexpressible pain. Life “can only be lived, not written about. Some things can never be portrayed in print-or verbalized.” [Irving Malin]