This book derives from the notes Darrieussecq took in the first year of her son’s life. It recounts her growing love, fears, and new sensitivities as she becomes a mother and tries to return to her writing. These insights are expressed in a text that that primarily evokes the profoundly visceral nature of maternal infatuation.

The blurb asserts that this book will provoke ‘smiles and grimaces of recognition’ including an examination of how ‘mothers are targeted from all angles.’ Darrieussecq does allude to the loaded role of being a mother:

Mother: infantilisation, guilt trip,
castration. Namby-pamby claptrap,
baby-burping. Withdrawal. Neurosis. Autism.
Umbilicus.
Virgin Mary and Mater Dolorosa.
Genetrix.
Mummy equals Death: reactionary
dogma, the clichéd response
to nonsense, another sort of
sentimentalism.

While readers will recognise these allusions, Darrieussecq risks negating their sympathy or understanding when she replies to such judgementalism with her own reductive aggression, as when she berates the ‘lack of humour’ of ‘childfree’ women by replying to them that she had a child ‘because life is better than nothing.’ The reader is left pondering where Darrieussecq’s own sense of humour (and self-awareness) is, and whether there is more ‘nothing’ without or within the world evoked by her book.

As the blurb notes, ‘The Baby is a mother’s project and a writer’s project.’ And the book should interest those enamoured by these themes. For others, this book might read more as a ‘love letter’ from an erudite, intellectual and articulate writer to herself.

Reviewed by H C Gildfind