Customer Reviews

Tinny and Artificial
Pearlie has a taste for aphoristic musings. "We think we know the ones we love," she writes. "But what we love turns out to be a poor translation, a translation we ourselves have made, from a language we barely know." These quasi-Proustian observations and their associated metaphors are brought to a state of high polish. But Greer's plotting doesn't always live up to Pearlie's commentary. A side-story involving a spirited white girl who's secretly engaged to a prejudiced soda-jerk is tacked on to the main plot in a way that's both implausible and underexplained. Pearlie's sympathy for Buzz blooms remarkably quickly, and there's an excess of busily symbolic detail. If the characters watch a movie, overhear a TV show or read the words printed on a paper bag, what they come across will be eerily reflective of their predicament.
Most of all, Greer's first big narrative bombshell doesn't detonate with the force that he seems to be hoping for. After all the wary looks from white neighbors, references to the status of the "colored" population, mentions of Pearlie's "community" and descriptions of visits to segregated lunchrooms, only very inattentive readers will be startled to learn that the Cooks are black; some might even wonder why Pearlie has tried to play such a heavy-handed trick. The surprises in what follows are managed more skillfully, and Greer has clearly done his homework on the time he's depicting. But the artificial, slightly tinny resonance never goes away.

"This is a war story. It was not meant to be."
"It started as a love story, the story of a marriage, but the war has stuck to it everywhere like shattered glass. Not an ordinary story of men in battle but of those who did not go to war." So writes Andrew Sean Greer: in marriage, and in war, there are hard times, severe pain, and sometimes, resolution and understanding.

The story, set in 1953, centers around Pearlie COok, a dutiful wife, her husband Holland, a conflicted man, their young son Sonny who is afflicted with polio, and a stranger named Buzz who throws this world into turmoil. Within their story, much of the fear and paranoia of the era is played out -- sexism, racism, homophobia, and the continuing saga of Julius and Ethel Rosenberg, executed for treason.

This is not a perfect book. As other reviewers have pointed out, some of the coincidences are improbable; also, the characters are not as introspective as this reader would have liked. What's more (no spoilers), the sacrifice Pearlie is willing to make to ensure her husband's happiness seems excessive and, to this reader, unlikely, especially considering the era. On the other hand, the questions Greer raises on war, love and motherhood, combined with the luminous writing, raise this book to a higher standard. I'd recommend it with qualifications.

Raed this if you appreciate good writing
I am an avid reader and this is the best book I've read in a long time. The writing is just beautiful, absolutely beautiful. I found myself re reading paragraphs because the imagery was stunning. I don't know how people write like that and maintain such an original voice throughout a whole book, but he does it wonderfully. I didn't want it to end, but I could not put it down, what a great story. Please keep writing Mr. Greer!!