Friends and Strangers

I have rarely been as involved in a book as I was in Friends and Strangers by J. Courtney Sullivan. This book immersed me in the lives of Elisabeth, a late-thirties new mother, married and now living in a small town, and Sam, a college senior who becomes Elisabeth's babysitter. The book is told in alternating sections from Elisabeth's point of view and then from Sam's point of view.

Sullivan weaves a mesmerizing tale of the lives of these two women and how they become intertwined in a complex relationship where Elisabeth is employer, mentor and friend, and Sam is employee, friend and confidant. The boundaries of the relationship are blurred from both sides and become more complex as the story moves forward. Sullivan presents us with such detail of Elisabeth's and Sam's lives and thoughts that we feel we know them as well as we know ourselves—perhaps even better.

The time frame of their relationship is constrained by the fact that Sam will soon graduate and move on to a new, exciting and unknown future, while Elisabeth is established in her marriage and as a parent. Because of this, we know that the relationship will end soon, but at first we are convinced this will be a happy story of two women who are our friends.

Elisabeth is a lovable, but complex and infuriating woman. Sam sees her as having everything Sam dreams of. As their relationship deepens into one of friendship and shared confidence however, the secrets they share become burdens for Sam. Sam's uncertainties about her future with her sort-of fiancee, Clive, and worries about her career after she graduates with a fine arts degree, put her on edge and open her to Elisabeth's manipulations.

Elisabeth can't face the reality of her own desires and ambitions and as a result cannot be honest with her husband, Andrew. Her guilt about her lies leads her to confide in Sam and then, in an attempt to control something in her life, a compulsion to try to save Sam from her youthful immaturity, but this leads her to more deception.

Sam's life is expansive, the world is opening to her. She has her remote relationships, with the older Clive, with her roommate, Izzie, with her Latino friends she works with in the college dormitory kitchen, and a budding friendship with Elisabeth's father-in-law that results in political activism. Elisabeth, by contrast has only her close focus on her family. Sam is Elisabeth's only distraction, and is one she cannot let go. All this builds through the novel, with Elisabeth's lies and deceits becoming more fraught and Sam becoming more uncertain about all aspects of her life.

We love them both and worry about them. How could this end well? How can we not anticipate a devastating and emotionally difficult ending?

But then the book just stops and we are left with a few pages of description of Sam and Elisabeth ten years in the future. We have no idea how Elisabeth's lies and deceptions were resolved with her husband, or if they even were. For Sam, we know more about how she ended up where she did and why. But the book was all about the relationship of Elisabeth and Sam, and the ending ignores that and gives us little resolution, particularly for Elisabeth.

This was a great novel, but it is diminished by the ending.