A Couple Become One Person for Seven Years of Self-isolation

SEVEN STEEPLES
by Sara Baume

Seven Steeples chronicles the seclusion of Bell and Sigh, a young couple hiding in a ruined house blown by the wind on the Irish coast. His years are marked by never being able to climb the mountain above. They only reluctantly go into town, dressed in hats and glasses, to go grocery shopping or to see the dentist half a dozen years later. “By then, his teeth were also atrophied, punctured by pinhole holes marked by hairline cracks.”

Decay and neglect are constant themes, and the descriptions are magnificent. Line by line, “Seven Tent” is one of the best novels I’ve ever read. But the strange thing is the absolute lack of subtext. Often the scenery indirectly shows the inner life of the characters and advances the drama. However, there is absolutely no contradiction between these two characters in “Seven Tent”. Eventually, Bell and Sigh became one, undifferentiated “single life.” And even though we were told, “Bell and Sigh were very impressed with each other’s way of speaking. … In their seventh year, they spoke a dialect of their own unconscious creation,” we never hear of an exchange of dialogue between them.

It is extremely unusual to present essentially no scene and only customary action, no dialogue other than a few rambling lines, no drama. The point of view is also rare: the omniscient third person. As these characters mingle at the end of the book, we are unable to locate either one, instead relying on the very distant reporting of five viewpoints: Bell and Sigh, their two dogs, and the mountain itself. Dogs have the clearest differentiation.

As a result, the author seems to have fallen into a dangerous trap: getting caught up in an idea. In the narrative, Bell and Sigh can no longer remember which memories belong to whom. For example, there is “a brother skydiving”, but there is no memory of who – this is unbelievable to the reader. It’s not true that two people can be one, and the novel feels confined to this arrogance that has the effect of completely excluding the reader. We certainly know the details of these lifetimes in perfect physical details, but only in physical details.

There is vision in the novel. In the end, the people they avoid while in the village are also running away from them because Covid has struck and it’s interesting to see two people voluntarily choosing their shutters. The novel is also the antidote to our social media age, because lives are meaningless unless they are told and watched. Bell and Sigh deliberately lost all contact with their family and friends. They only make short annual holiday visits with the landlord and a neighboring farmer. Christmas reflections: “And they left themselves nothing to celebrate. And they talked about how much their life had gotten smaller, almost nothing.” (Of course we don’t hear this discussion.) What they found in their retreat is this: “They were together in the wind of the bluff, the stillness of the whiskey, the peaks of light, spontaneously. subject to a wonderful peace.”

Baume’s depictions of landscapes are more beautiful than I can express; you just have to read them yourself. He is a poet who elevates the novel on a linear level to something higher. But if only all these descriptions could be anchored in the drama and set in motion to reflect inner lives. Instead, they’re beautiful, subtext-free nothing. In this way, too, the writer who is constantly devoid of drama is a poet.