Anna is an expat living in Switzerland with her very Swiss husband, Bruno, and her three very Swiss children.
They live in a quaint three story house on a lovely street, not too far away from her in-laws, who provide endless childcare and looks of disapproval towards Anna when she drops them off.

Anna is struggling with plenty in this novel. She struggles with language, learning schweizerdeutsch, a particular language that is difficult to learn and understand, but by which provides Anna freedom in being able to communicate if she puts the effort into it.

She is struggling on a more inane level with her home duties. She’s unsatisfied with her role as a mother, and as the caregiver to her children. She’s an insomniac that roams the cold empty streets of her town in the black of night, feeling hard done by, alone and confused.

Anna is a raw and difficult character to appreciate. She’s sexually promiscuous and reckless, with many chapters recounting her indiscretions. There’s an element of wanting to be caught and confronted with her deeds, but she’s not ready to face the music.

Bruno has had enough of his wife’s moods and has recommended that she “sorts it out”. She has frequent appointments with a Freudian psychiatrists, that is delving into her subconscious thoughts and dreams, interpreting their meaning and pulling at the strings that are holding Anna together.

There’s a definite sense of isolation in Anna’s life, she holds her newfound friends at the language classes she takes at an arms length. Mary is warm and open, but Anna sniggers at her, thinking to herself “Mary doesn’t know the real me, she has no idea”. Anna carries her secrets as a badge of honor, and holds herself in such high regard that she’s able to be a vulgar creatre (and oftentimes, vulgarity is her strongest character trait) and yet those around her suspect nothing.

The threads begin to unravel when a tragedy hits her family hard, and Anna begins to contemplate the importance of her life and the choices she makes. It may be a case of too little, too late, for her attempts at reconciling her two lives creates further havoc on her strained marriage and also, mental state.

For the reader, there is a strong moral component to this book that is raised consistently: “Adulterers never prosper” seems to be the party line in this book. Anna is not glamorous, she’s not described as a creature worth lusting over. You don’t admire her, and if you’re feeling anything towards her at all, it’s likely pity.

There’s a harsh ending to the tragic story of Anna, and yet you leave the novel grateful that you shared the journey with her. Perhaps there’s a redeeming factor in her psyche that makes you want to see the bad girl do good in the end.