It was almost ten years ago. Antoine was an intern at the hospital. He had turned on the radio in his car and heard Margaux. He’d immediately liked her voice. The way she talked about her noir novels. So he rushed off to Europe 1. “I’d never seen her before, but I recognized her right away.” This was Antoine’s later story. “We went out that night.” The encounter is beautiful. Too beautiful. Margaux remembers: they met after a urology appointment. “It’s not very romantic or very romantic, but it’s reality.” The truth is, their relationship began on a lie.

French divorce is a fascinating novel. Firstly, because its story is terribly ordinary, tragically plausible. Antoine is a surgeon, Margaux a novelist. They love each other, have two children and divorce.. The story could end there, but the couple tear each other apart. And here’s where the book gets dizzying. The…