Distantly Related to Freud, Ann Charney

Ann Charney’s most recent novel, Distantly Related to Freud, is a portrait of Ellen, a thoroughly modern girl growing up in 1950’s Montreal.  Ellen is alternately confused, annoyed, and intrigued by her Polish mother’s attachment to the world they were forced to leave behind.  As Ellen morphs from an inquisitive eight-year-old into a self-congratulatory, savvy teenager, Distantly Related to Freud illustrates the importance of storytelling itself.

As narrator, Ellen is keen, quirky, and anxious to solve the everyday mysteries around her.  For instance, Ellen’s mother (who has a portrait of their supposed family member, Sigmund Freud) takes in Polish refugees who lash out unexpectedly.  After hearing the refugees vehemently argue, Ellen notes, “The truth about the troublesome strangers…was to be found in those hidden corners of life—fenced off by the words, ‘you’ll understand when you’re older.’”

Charney’s characters are delightfully ambiguous and wacky: Ellen’s perpetually panicky Aunt Celia; her suave, Communist stepfather Dr. Henryk Steiner; Magda, the sexy mother of her best friend; Cousin Laura, her country club-frequenting, American surrogate mother.  Thankfully, Charney’s Ellen is no goody-two-shoes; some of the most fun parts of the novel include Ellen’s firm decision to become a femme fatale and her awkward seduction of an older boyfriend: “Wasn’t sex supposed to make you feel closer to the person you’d just slept with? In Peter’s case, it had only rendered him inarticulate.”

Throughout Distantly Related to Freud, Ellen discovers that she wants to be a writer, and eventually returns to the stories of her childhood and her dramatic, brave mother.  Though the novel feels a bit rushed toward the end, Charney’s imperfect, insightful heroine makes Distantly Related to Freud accessible and enjoyable.