HERE IS THE BEEHIVE

A married woman mourns the loss of her lover.

Crossan, Ireland’s fifth children's laureate, explores the unexpected end of an extramarital affair in her first adult novel. Estate lawyer Ana deals with death daily but still finds herself wholly unprepared when she learns Connor—her client and lover of three years—has died suddenly: “We plan for death, / make sensible decisions while gorging on life. / But no one intends to die.” Ana learns of Connor’s passing from his widow, Rebecca, who knows nothing about their relationship. Written in verse, the novel weaves past and present together as Ana tries not to succumb to grief while looking back over the good (and bad) of their relationship. Married with two children herself, Ana finds herself ensconced in a unique kind of grief; she must mourn in private because their relationship was a secret and mourning properly could cost her everything. While coping with Connor’s death, Ana becomes increasingly erratic: She ignores her family, falls behind at work, and tries to befriend Rebecca. As the two women become closer, Ana begins to reevaluate what Connor has told her about his wife and his life. It's only after he’s gone that she begins to see him and their relationship for what it truly was. Crossan’s writing helps underscore the novel’s themes of memory, time, and the manifestation of grief. The fragmented style mirrors Ana’s scattered thoughts and memories, and the white space on the page feels like a physical embodiment of their affair—which took place in the found stretches of their lives. At one point, Ana thinks: “We were never forever. / Always in a place of / passing. / Everything that mattered happened in locked rooms. / Nothing came out of them.” As she exits that locked room for good, Ana must step fully into her messy life—whatever the outcome.

A fresh, affecting take on a tale as old as time.