33 PLACE BRUGMANN

The dramatically intertwined fates of the residents of a Beaux Arts apartment building in Brussels, 1939-43.

The fiction debut of filmmaker and playwright Austen, this novel opens with a notarized roster of building residents, from the refugee seamstress Masha Balyayeva in the 5th floor maid’s room to the Sauvin and Raphaël families in 4L and 4R, to the building manager and preparer of this list, Jan Everard, on the ground floor. In an impressive display of Austen's storytelling skill, about a dozen of these individuals become point-of-view characters, unfurling an unusually colorful and intelligent, poignant and rich World War II novel, a special treat for the many fans of that genre. “To me, architecture is an idea about how we should live. A good architect creates a system of communication and relationships,” says Francois Sauvin, architect, in conversation with his neighbor, the art dealer Leo Raphaël—an idea that resonates through the novel in many ways. These two are the parents of Charlotte Sauvin, a gifted though colorblind painting student, and Julian Raphaël, aspiring filmmaker doing maths at Cambridge, childhood best friends and would-be lovers, if only Charlotte hadn’t met someone else at art school. In any case, all these lives are about to be derailed by the arrival of the Nazis, and as the novel opens in 1939, the Raphaël family has already disappeared overnight, along with their important painting collection (the mystery of the location of the paintings is one of myriad subplots Austen manages brilliantly). As the novel rotates among its plethora of first-person narrators, each with a distinctive voice, from the wry and cultured Sauvin to the horrible busybody Miss Hobert in 3R, the issue of how to live in terrible times is explored with insight, compassion, and steeliness. Among many ancillary pleasures is the ongoing attempt of the characters to make sense of the philosophy of Wittgenstein, and from his writing arises imagery that gives the novel’s fabric a furbelow of magical realism. Excellent banter also leavens the mix. In an exchange between horrible Hobert and architect Sauvin: “‘If I were you—’ she began. ‘And thank goodness, you’re not. If life has taught me anything, it’s that we need fewer men in this world.’”

After a somewhat decorous launch, the charming characters get themselves a thrilling, moving plot. Crème de la WWII novel.