Review: Reluctant Betrayals by Claude Renaud

A stunning blend of fiction and memoir, Reluctant Betrayals by Claude Renaud is a riveting plunge into the past, exposing the dangerous instability of a nation on the brink.

Working on a contract with the Ministry Information in Cambodia, young Philippe Roche lands in Phnom Penh to start his career at the bottom rung of a local magazine. The wild allures of Southeast Asia pull him in almost immediately, sending him spiraling into an exotic trap of temptation, power, control, and lust.

After being swept into the world of expats living in this powder keg of a city, including the elite circle of Henri and Nicole Marchand, Philippe finds himself irresistibly drawn to Nicole in a dangerous way. As the months pass, it seems that she may desire more than mere flirtation, but her peripheral access to the halls of power also give Philippe a rare glimpse behind the curtain of international power struggles and deadly corruption.

As professional and personal lines inextricably tangle, Philippe learns that some information is too risky to possess, and some love affairs are too dangerous to continue. Spilling out as a love story to a volatile era, shot through the lens of a darkly romantic city, this novel is at times breathtaking and profound. Exploring the breadth of Cambodian culture – from gossip-mongering maids and the comforting arms of paid lovers to smoke-filled war rooms and the vibrant cacophony of street markets – the novel serves as a bold homage to a temeritous country.

The writing is remarkably engaging, with effort and intention being put into every narrative passage and emotionally steeped exchange. Even minor musings are carried out with rich and lyrical prose: “But these were only passing moods, hints of later dissatisfaction perhaps, not enough yet to do more than ruffle my sense of well-being and self-satisfaction. Above all I was still an innocent.” Renaud’s powers of description are just as effective, bringing readers into the stuffy downtown journalism office or the muddy vistas of rice paddies stretching far as the eye can see. Suffice to say, immersion in the author’s memory is far from difficult: “Near the entrance and the upturned head of a sacred Naga, the seven-headed cobra whose stone body, long fallen into ruin, had once formed a balustrade to stop fools from tumbling into the moat on moonless nights such as this…”

The author’s lived experience in 1960s Cambodia, and his clear gift for capturing his own nuanced memories, gives this book an undeniable level of authenticity. Coupled with his ability to summon visceral environments and blend historical fact with creative nonfiction, the reading experience is a rare and transformative trip.

In terms of editing, the prose is finely polished, with almost no errors to speak of, and while some of the narration is languid and descriptive, there are few wasted words or redundant thoughts. The conversations are crisp, believable, and whip-smart, at times capturing the same terse brilliance as Hemingway at his most reflective. Thematically engaging, surprisingly timely, and emotionally gripping, Reluctant Betrayals will leave readers examining their own relationships to duty, loyalty, memory, and love.