The Confessions of Edward Day


Valerie Martin
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Book notes

Edward Day, the handsome and seductive narrator of this sinuous novel, has mixed emotions when he is rescued from drowning at a beach house weekend by fellow aspiring actor Guy Margate. On the one hand, he’s grateful that his life has been saved; on the other, he is resentful that he has been made to look helpless in front of Madeleine Delavergne, a beautiful young actress whom he has just bedded; and he hates the fact that he will forever owe Guy a debt he can never repay. The relationship between all three becomes more complicated when it emerges that Guy is a rival for Madeleine’s affections – and so begins an unsettling and unhealthy love triangle which shifts shape over the years as they try to establish their theatrical careers, and Edward and Guy try to outdo each other. Edward, a shrewd observer, perfectly captures the struggle, jealousy, insecurity and vanity of an actor’s life, which gives the novel an enjoyably waspish quality. But beneath the gossipy surface is a growing sense of menace, and the tension gradually builds to a suitably dramatic and shocking climax. Edward may be self-centered and rather cold-hearted, but, as with all the best actors, it’s impossible not be transfixed by him.

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About the author

Valerie Martin is the author of nine novels, including Property, which won the 2003 Orange Prize for Fiction, and Mary Reilly, a re-telling of the Dr Jekyll story which was made into a film starring Julia Roberts. She has also published three collections of short stories, and a biography of St. Francis of Assisi, Salvation. Her first novel, Set in Motion, was published in 1978.
It was while at university in her home town of New Orleans that she began to read the novels which were to influence her own writing. ‘Flaubert's Madame Bovary, a cautionary tale about a foolish woman whose Romantic education ill fits her for her very ordinary life, was, perhaps, the most important influence,’ she says. ‘I didn't want to wind up like Emma Bovary.’ She has taught at a number of universities and is currently visiting professor of English at the prestigious Mount Holyoke College in Massachusetts, where she teaches creative writing.
Between 1994 and 1997 she lived in Italy, the setting of her novel Italian Fever. She now lives in upstate New York with her partner, John Cullen, and her cat Jackson Gray. She has one daughter, who is a professor of philosophy at the University of Pennsylvania. 

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Discussion points

1. We see everything from Edward’s point of view. How far can we trust him? Is he a likeable narrator?
2. What effect does his mother’s suicide have on Edward?
3. Can Edward love anybody other than himself?
4. How would you describe the relationship between Edward and Guy?
5. Which characters, if any, do you sympathise with?
6. Can you condone Madeleine’s infidedility? Who does she really love?
7. Can Edward ever discover the truth about Guy and Madeleine’s relationship?
8. If someone saves another person’s life, who owes what to whom?
9. Do any of the characters emerge triumphant at the end? What does the future hold for them?
10. Some critics have drawn parallels with The Picture of Dorian Gray. Do you agree?

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Author's view

My novel, The Confessions of Edward Day, owes its being to a failure and three conversations.
The Failure:
A few years ago I was commissioned to write a play based on my novel Property. As it turned out, I have no gift for writing drama, and the resulting play was a failure. In the process of admitting defeat, I attended various readings and stagings, as well as auditions for plays that did actually wind up on a stage. Actors have a reputation for narcissism and self-indulgence, but the more I watched and talked to them, the more convinced I became that, in performance, actors are artists. I have long had an interest in artists as fictional subjects - they come with nice bundles of obsessions, and ordinary life is such a challenge for them - so I began to imagine a novel about an actor.
Then followed three conversations.
Conversation One:
I am at tea in a charming restaurant with two lady journalists. One tells the story of an acquaintance, also a journalist, who fell into a lake in the Adirondack mountains. He couldn’t swim and was well on the way to drowning when a stranger, walking on the shore, spotted him, and, being a strong swimmer, dove in to rescue him. Afterwards the journalist was, naturally, exceedingly grateful to his rescuer. Names were exchanged, gratitude was expressed and accepted, and the two men parted, presumably not to meet again.            
But a few days later, the rescuer appeared at the journalist’s house asking for money, a hundred dollars to be exact, which was freely given. After all, the journalist counselled himself, he saved my life. What’s a hundred dollars compared to that?
A week passed and the rescuer visited again, rather late in the evening, with two vaguely threatening friends. They explained that they needed a place to stay for the night. The journalist was anxious, but again he thought, ‘My life, a place to stay; what’s that in the balance?’
And so it went. The journalist was currently involved in a lawsuit with his rescuer.
Conversation Two:
I am a passenger in a van with seven actors heading for their play rehearsal in New York City.   The oldest of the actors recalls the sad fate of a fellow thespian who bore a strong resemblance to the now famous actress Laura Linney. The two young unknowns invariably auditioned for the same parts, and just as invariably both received a call-back. But, of course, it was always Laura Linney who got the part. Her double despaired and moved to a small town north of the city where she opened a shoe store.
Conversation Three: 
I am walking with N., my editor, on a beach at the New Jersey shore, just before she dives into the waves. N. points to a jetty that runs out from the shore and informs me that strong rip-currents are there. A few years ago, a young editor who was visiting N. swam incautiously near the jetty. He was caught in the current and couldn’t get free. Both N. and her daughter swam out to help him. The daughter, a fast swimmer, got well ahead of her mother. When she reached the very weak and helpless young man, they both began to shout for help. N, an extremely proper person who abhors a fuss, called out to them as she approached, ‘Don’t shout. Be calm.’
I decided to call my actor Edward Day. I imagined that he might get caught in such a current and be rescued by a stranger. But what if that stranger was also an actor who looked a lot like him? And what if the stranger seemed always to expect something from the man whose life he had saved, not just money, though he’d take that too, but some intangible recompense, something Ed couldn’t do without, something like his soul?
What would Edward Day do?  
The Confessions of Edward Day is the answer to that question.


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