These “novels” (I can hardly type the word without quaking with rage) are marketed as fiction when they blatantly contain elements of truth.
I later learned other troublingly true details: for example, the husband of one of the main characters is Harald, who has practically the same name as McCarthy’s own first husband. To say that my trust has been irreparably damaged is an understatement. I can never again approach “The Group” with the same feeling of excitement, knowing that its “imaginary” events and people bear more than a passing resemblance to events and people from McCarthy’s own life, that the novel’s dialogue may accurately reflect conversations McCarthy participated in or even initiated. I am, frankly, devastated and disgusted.