An exclusive interview with Abbigail Roseword, author of Constellations of Eve
by Isabelle Kenyon
As the UK edition release date for novel Constellations of Eve by Vietnamese-American author Abbigail Rosewood nears, Isabelle Kenyon sat down with Rosewood to get to the heart of literary fiction “Constellations of Eve” [Platypus Press, 11th August 2022] and the intriguing alternative lives it involves.
Three realities. One love story.
As Eve’s life shifts and reshapes, she must strive to unearth the same thing she’s always sought: wholeness.
Alternating as mother-artist-friend-lover, and through obsession, grief, and the illusion of having it all, she must navigate the imperceptible moments that shape us all, keenly riding the pitches and contours of her volatile life. Constellations of Eve paints an artistic world, one of love and despair, where our decisions—however well intended—can create wholly unexpected outcomes.
A philosophical tale, it wrestles with our most intimate intentions and lays bare the cost of all-consuming love across multiple experiences.
In conversation with the Southampton Review, you said: “My upbringing and education in Eastern tradition gives me something tremendous: the idea of the eternal, the circularity of soul migrations, love’s power to transcend time and space.” I wonder to what extent your characters in ‘Constellations of Eve’, particularly in the relationship explored between Liam and Eve, who in most of the alternative lives outlined in the novel are married, are shaped by these beliefs of soul migration and of transcendent love?
Beyond the characters, my novel is completely shaped by the notion that love transcends time and space. Perhaps because of my upbringing and early education in certain Buddhist sects, I feel inclined to associate romantic love with spirituality⎯I still want to believe that people who are supposed to find each other, will, whether in this lifetime or the next. Or perhaps they have already met before, as crickets, or dinosaurs. On the other hand, I’ve also seen how romanticism ruins relationships. The idea that someone is “meant for you” might make partners feel exempt from having to work on love. So, in some ways, the novel teeters on this tension between the fable/eternal and the real. I can say this: my writing this book was a labour of love in the sense that it was my way of holding together my relationship with my husband.
What qualities would you say can be attributed to Eastern storytelling? Or perhaps, what differences are there between Eastern and Western storytelling?
I love this question even though I’m entirely unequipped to answer it. From what I’ve read of works translated from Vietnam, China, Japan, Korea, and other Asian countries, I’ve noticed a subtlety that might be scorned in American contemporary fiction. With the “Eastern” literary works, the reader usually has to work hard at deciphering meaning as it seems that nothing happens on the surface. The word microexpression springs to mind⎯the whole text is an accruement of micro-expressions, puzzle pieces that the reader has to assemble. As a writer who has received training from both the East and West, my work is somewhere in-between. I will forever be an advocate for subtleties and subtexts, and I will always enjoy outward expressions of passion and rage.
You started writing ‘Constellations of Eve’ in 2018. At the time, you said you were at a crossroads with your partner, which also altered the novel to explore a series of relationship crossroads for your characters. To what extent does the novel take inspiration from real life, and is this an essential quality to provoke empathy from a reader, incorporating something which is a lived experience?
Reading in general is an exercise in empathy. I don’t know if my characters are empathetic since that is dependent on the individual reading experience. And I don’t necessarily believe that characters need to be likeable for a novel to be successful, but I think that readers can tell when the writer has risked something of herself to form words on a page. Good writing is a bit like bungee jumping⎯risky, a little stupid, a little courageous too.
I’m fascinated by the novel’s structure and unreliable narration, which is arguably non-western in its exploration of reincarnation and alternative lives. You said reincarnation as an idea comes from your background in Buddhism, and the idea of paying off a debt to someone. Could you tell us what debts your characters owe to each other in ‘Constellations of Eve’ and how you’ve explored this through alternate lives?
An unreliable narrator is probably the most honest one of all⎯every narrated story is inherently unreliable. In the court of law, people take care to tell events as clearly and concisely as possible, but if you listen to any court proceeding, you’ll notice that despite everyone’s effort, memory muddles. With a narrator that you’ve realised is unreliable, I think you can at least relax because there is no assumption of “truth”. But let me actually answer your question: the characters in my novel owe each other kindness, decency, honesty, love, but in the interest of being complex humans, they don’t always manage. It takes many many many lifetimes, to do “right,” by those we love, I think. I also think it is a kinder way of thinking about it⎯that we would get another chance.
The novel explores unnatural mothers and desire, allowing protagonist Eve to “do over” her life. As you prepare to become a mother yourself, how do you view motherhood and would you have explored Eve’s conflict over bringing a child into the world in different ways?
I wonder what an unnatural mother means? However someone arrives at motherhood, I believe it is natural. The idea of unnatural motherhood perpetuates unrealistic expectations on women. A mother could and should desire many things. I take a lot better care of my emotional and physical health than Eve does. And my initiation into motherhood, 21 weeks, has been self-reflective⎯I am inside my body, but also my mind, my history and lineage, whereas Eve surrenders completely to impulses. The other day, I was suffering from stomach cramps, so I was on all fours, just howling⎯I’ve had to surrender to such instances of bodily demands, too, but I also come back. I’m not sure if Eve does. I don’t know if I would have explored her conflict differently since the way she experiences motherhood is unique to her, as it is with every woman. But I am now interested in writing a different kind of book about motherhood.
And finally, if you could spend a day with one of the characters from ‘Constellations of Eve’, who would it be, and why?
Oh wow, I’ve never thought about this⎯I feel like my characters can be so horrendous that I wouldn’t want to be friends with them. I might enjoy a glass of wine with Eve’s mother, though, and listen to her lecture on beauty. I’ll most likely disagree with her, but I’ll give her the chance to seduce me.
Closing note from Isabelle:
This novel had me musing about what I would do if offered an alternate life: what would I do differently? Rosewood explores whether love can transcend years and, indeed, lives… “Constellations of Eve” definitely appealed to my romantic side. I think we all have that part of us: we want to believe something, someone, has been designed for us, and that that love was MEANT to happen. I love that this is the premise for this novel, and where its magic starts. I think this will appeal to ESEA readers who are looking to support East Asian writers and seeking more Eastern narratives and structures.
Abbigal Rosewood
Abbigail Rosewood is a Vietnamese and American author. She holds an MFA in creative writing from Columbia University. After having spent over 20 years in the U.S, she is now a reverse immigrant living in Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam.
Her works can be found at TIME Magazine, Harper’s Bazaar, Salon, Elle U.K, Cosmopolitan, Lit Hub, Electric Lit, Catapult, Pen America, BOMB, among others. In 2019, her hybrid writing was featured in a multimedia art and poetry exhibit at Eccles Gallery. Her fiction has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net, and Best American Short Story 2020, and was a finalist for the 49th New Millennium Writing Award. She won first place in the Writers Workshop of Asheville Literary Fiction contest.