Richard, who works for an international pharmacy company, moves with his French wife Valerie and son Max to live in an idyllic French setting just outside a small village. The English and Dutch ex-patriot crowd have a heavy presence in the Var and they soon make friends, though they are closest to an American, Jeff and his English wife Rachel who has just had a baby daughter, Maude. Jeff is the protégé of his eccentric boss, who runs a New York Advertising Agency, and is supervising the building and fitting out of a grand and beautiful house which the wealthy boss may, or may not, use for holidays.
Richard's pharmaceutical job takes him all over Europe and then into Africa, and it is here that he comes up against the dangers inherent in treating all cultures alike in the market-driven imperatives of drug proliferation. A side-plot also involves Rachel's desire to adopt an African child - and again, wealthy westerners are brought up against some uncomfortable truths about the continent which does not fit in with their naïve, if generous assumptions. This adoption side-plot though, feels rather pitch-forked in as an `issue' and is a less convincing element as a result.
The novel then moves back to life in the Var where Richard has a sudden epiphany, partly caused by his African experiences, but also by the realisation that his son has been growing up a stranger to him and he must face profound doubts about his marriage. The consequences play out with deeply affecting realism, not least for adolescent Max.
The novel tackles modern evils that masquerade as cure-alls, but weaved skilfully and inexorably with questions about the terrors that assault the lover no less than those betrayed by love. This is a beautifully constructed and artfully written book. Dean's internal narratives are often pithy and full of insight. It is a beautifully sanguine read, as she moves closer to the idea of what love can do powerfully well - and what it can't.
When Richard goes to see his local doctor for, ironically enough, some of the drugs he has been selling, he bares his soul:
"`I'll tell you what the problem is, it's the absence of understanding of what love really is', he said... `Love is the last delusion of the rational age, the final faith. In a world in which everything is junk, everything is disposable, the idea of love as a fearsome promise is something worth dying for. Worth living for even. Don't you think?'"
