They seemed like the perfect couple—young, good-looking, made for each other. The moment Pauline, a stranger to the Polish Eastern Avenue neighborhood of Baltimore (though she lived only twenty minutes away), walked into his mother’s grocery store, Michael was smitten. And in the heat of World War II fervor, they are propelled into a hasty wedding. But they never should have married.
Pauline, impulsive, impractical, tumbles hit-or-miss through life; Michael, plodding, cautious, judgmental, proceeds deliberately. While other young marrieds, equally ignorant at the start, seemed to grow more seasoned, Pauline and Michael remain amateurs. In time their foolish quarrels take their toll. Even when they find themselves, almost thirty years later, loving, instant parents to a little grandson named Pagan, whom they rescue from Haight-Ashbury, they still cannot bridge their deep-rooted differences. Flighty Pauline clings to the notion that the rifts can always be patched. To the unyielding Michael, they become unbearable.
From the sound of the cash register in the old grocery to the counterculture jargon of the sixties, from the miniskirts to the multilayered apparel of later years, Anne Tyler captures the evocative nuances of everyday life during these decades with such telling precision that every page brings smiles of recognition. Throughout, as each of the competing voices bears witness, we are drawn ever more fully into the complex entanglements of family life in this wise, embracing, and deeply perceptive novel.
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About the Author
Date of Birth:October 25, 1941
Place of Birth:Minneapolis, Minnesota
Education:B.A., Duke University, 1961
Read an Excerpt
Anyone in the neighborhood could tell you how Michael and Pauline first met.
It happened on a Monday afternoon early in December of 1941. St. Cassian was its usual poky self that day—a street of narrow East Baltimore row houses, carefully kept little homes intermingled with shops no bigger than small parlors. The Golka twins, identically kerchiefed, compared cake rouges through the window of Sweda’s Drugs. Mrs. Pozniak stepped out of the hardware store with a tiny brown paper bag that jingled. Mr. Kostka’s Model-B Ford puttered past, followed by a stranger’s sleekly swishing Chrysler Airstream and then by Ernie Moskowicz on the butcher’s battered delivery bike.
In Anton’s Grocery—a dim, cram-packed cubbyhole with an L-shaped wooden counter and shelves that reached the low ceiling—Michael’s mother wrapped two tins of peas for Mrs. Brunek. She tied them up tightly and handed them over without a smile, without a “Come back soon” or a “Nice to see you.” (Mrs. Anton had had a hard life.) One of Mrs. Brunek’s boys—Carl? Paul? Peter? they all looked so much alike—pressed his nose to the glass of the penny-candy display. A floorboard creaked near the cereals, but that was just the bones of the elderly building settling deeper into the ground.
Michael was shelving Woodbury’s soap bars behind the longer, left-hand section of the counter. He was twenty at the time, a tall young man in ill-fitting clothes, his hair very black and cut too short, his face a shade too thin, with that dark kind of whiskers that always showed no matter how often he shaved. He was stacking the soap in a pyramid, a base of five topped by four, topped by three . . . although his mother had announced, more than once, that she preferred a more compact, less creative arrangement.
Then, tinkle, tinkle! and wham! and what seemed at first glance a torrent of young women exploded through the door. They brought a gust of cold air with them and the smell of auto exhaust. “Help us!” Wanda Bryk shrilled. Her best friend, Katie Vilna, had her arm around an unfamiliar girl in a red coat, and another girl pressed a handkerchief to the red-coated girl’s right temple. “She’s been hurt! She needs first aid!” Wanda cried.
Michael stopped his shelving. Mrs. Brunek clapped a hand to her cheek, and Carl or Paul or Peter drew in a whistle of a breath. But Mrs. Anton did not so much as blink. “Why bring her here?” she asked. “Take her to the drugstore.”
“The drugstore’s closed,” Katie told her.
“It says so on the door. Mr. Sweda’s joined the Coast Guard.”
“He’s done what?”
The girl in the red coat was very pretty, despite the trickle of blood running past one ear. She was taller than the two neighborhood girls but slender, more slightly built, with a leafy cap of dark-blond hair and an upper lip that rose in two little points so sharp they might have been drawn with a pen. Michael came out from behind the counter to take a closer look at her. “What happened?” he asked her—only her, gazing at her intently.
“Get her a Band-Aid! Get iodine!” Wanda Bryk commanded. She had gone through grade school with Michael. She seemed to feel she could boss him around.
The girl said, “I jumped off a streetcar.”
Her voice was low and husky, a shock after Wanda’s thin vio- lin notes. Her eyes were the purple-blue color of pansies. Michael swallowed.
“A parade’s begun on Dubrowski Street,” Katie was telling the others. “All six of the Szapp boys are enlisting, haven’t you heard? And a couple of their friends besides. They’ve got this banner—‘Watch out, Japs! Here come the Szapps!’—and everyone’s seeing them off. They’ve gathered such a crowd that the traffic can’t hardly get through. So Pauline here—she was heading home from work; places are closing early—what does she do? Jumps off a speeding streetcar to join in.”
The streetcar couldn’t have been speeding all that fast, if traffic was clogged, but nobody pointed that out. Mrs. Brunek gave a sympathetic murmur. Carl or Paul or Peter said, “Can I go, Mama? Can I? Can I go watch the parade?”
“I just thought we should try and support our boys,” Pauline told Michael.
He swallowed again. He said, “Well, of course.”
“You’re not going to help our boys any knocking yourself silly,” the girl with the handkerchief said. From her tolerant tone, you could see that she and Pauline were friends, although she was less attractive—a brown-haired girl with a calm expression and eyebrows so long and level that she seemed lacking in emotion.
“We think she hit her head against a lamppost,” Wanda said, “but nobody could be sure in all the fuss. She landed in our laps, just about, with Anna here a ways behind her. I said, ‘Jeepers! Are you okay?’ Well, somebody had to do something; we couldn’t just let her bleed to death. Don’t you people have Band-Aids?”
“This place is not a pharmacy,” Mrs. Anton said. And then, pursuing an obvious connection,
“Whatever got into Nick Sweda? He must be thirty-five if he’s a day!” Michael, meanwhile, had turned away from Pauline to join his mother behind the counter—the shorter, end section of the counter where the cash register stood. He bent down, briefly disappeared, and emerged with a cigar box. “Bandages,” he explained.
Not Band-Aids, but old-fashioned cotton batting rolled in dark-blue tissue the exact shade of Pauline’s eyes, and a spool of white adhesive tape, and an oxblood-colored bottle of iodine. Wanda stepped forward to take them; but no, Michael unrolled the cotton himself and tore a wad from one corner. He soaked the wad with iodine and came back to stand in front of Pauline. “Let me see,” he said.
There was a reverent, alert silence, as if everyone understood that this moment was significant—even the girl with the handkerchief, the one Wanda had called Anna, although Anna could not have known that Michael Anton was ordinarily the most reserved boy in the parish. She removed the handkerchief from Pauline’s temple. Michael pried away a petal of Pauline’s hair and started dabbing with the cotton wad. Pauline held very still.
The wound, it seemed, was a two-inch red line, long but not deep, already closing. “Ah,” Mrs. Brunek said. “No need for stitches.”
“We can’t be sure of that!” Wanda cried, unwilling to let go of the drama.
But Michael said, “She’ll be fine,” and he tore off a new wad of cotton. He plastered it to Pauline’s temple with a crisscross of adhesive tape.
Now she looked like a fight victim in a comic strip. As if she knew that, she laughed. It turned out she had a dimple in each cheek. “Thanks very much,” she told him. “Come and watch the parade with us.”
He said, “All right.”
Just that easily.
“Can I come too?” the Brunek boy asked. “Can I, Mama? Please?”
Mrs. Brunek said, “Ssh.”
“But who will help with the store?” Mrs. Anton asked Michael.
As if he hadn’t heard her, he turned to take his jacket from the coat tree in the corner. It was a schoolboy kind of jacket—a big, rough plaid in shades of gray and charcoal. He shrugged himself into it, leaving it unbuttoned. “Ready?” he asked the girls.
The others watched after him—his mother and Mrs. Brunek, and Carl or Paul or Peter, and little old Miss Pelowski, who chanced to be approaching just as Michael and the four girls came barreling out the door. “What . . . ?” Miss Pelowski asked. “What on earth . . . ? Where . . . ?”
Michael didn’t even slow down. He was halfway up the block now, with three girls trailing him and a fourth one at his side. She clung to the crook of his left arm and skimmed along next to him in her brilliant red coat.
Even then, Miss Pelowski said later, she had known that he was a goner.
“Parade” was too formal a word, really, for the commotion on Dubrowski Street. It was true that several dozen young men were walking down the center of the pavement, but they were still in civilian clothes and they made no attempt to keep in step. The older of John Piazy’s sons wore John’s sailor cap from the Great War. Another boy, name unknown, had flung a regulation Army blanket around his shoulders like a cape. It was a shabby, straggly, unkempt little regiment, their faces chapped, their noses running in the cold.
Even so, people were enthusiastic. They waved homemade signs and American flags and the front page of the Baltimore Sun. They cheered at speeches—any speeches, any rousing phrases shouted over their heads. “You’ll be home by New Year’s, boys!” a man in earmuffs called, and “New Year’s Day! Hurray!” zigzagged through the crowd.
When Michael Anton showed up with four girls, everybody assumed he was enlisting too. “Go get ’em, Michael!” someone shouted. Though John Piazy’s wife said, “Ah, no. It would be the death of his mother, poor soul, with all she’s had to suffer.”
One of the four girls, the one in red, asked, “Will you be going, Michael?” An outsider, she was, but very easy on the eyes. The red of her coat brought out the natural glow of her skin, and a bandage on her temple made her look madcap and rakish. No wonder Michael gave her a long, considering stare before he spoke.
“Well,” he said finally, and then he kind of hitched up his shoulders. “Well, naturally I will be!” he said.
A ragged cheer rang out from everyone standing nearby, and another of the girls—Wanda Bryk, in fact—pushed him forward until he had merged with the young men in the street. Leo Kazmerow walked on his left; the four girls scurried along the sidewalk on his right. “We love you, Michael!” Wanda cried, and Katie Vilna called, “Come back soon!” as if he were embarking for the trenches that very instant.
Then Michael was forgotten. He was swept away, and other young men replaced him: Davey Witt, Joe Dobek, Joey Serge. “You go show those Japs what we’re made of!” Davey’s father was shouting. For after all, a man was saying, who could tell when they’d have another chance to get even over Poland? An old woman was crying. John Piazy was telling everybody that neither one of his sons knew the meaning of the word “fear.” And several people were starting in on the where-were-you-when-you-heard discussion. One had not heard till that morning; he’d been burying his mother. One had heard first thing, the first announcement on the radio, but had dismissed it as another Orson Welles hoax. And one, a woman, had been soaking in the bathtub when her husband knocked on the door. “You’re never going to believe this,” he’d called. “I just sat there,” she said. “I just sat and sat. I sat until the water got cold.”
Wanda Bryk returned with Katie Vilna and the brown-haired girl, but not the girl in red. The girl in red had vanished. It seemed she’d marched off to war with Michael Anton, somebody said.
They did all notice—those in the crowd who knew Michael. It was enough of a surprise so they noticed, and remarked to each other, and remembered for some time afterward.
Word got out, the next day, that Leo Kazmerow had been rejected because he was color-blind. Color-blind! people said. What did color have to do with fighting for your country? Unless maybe he couldn’t recognize the color of someone’s uniform. If he was aiming his gun in battle, say. But everyone agreed that there were ways to get around that. Put him on a ship! Sit him behind a cannon and show him where to shoot!
This conversation took place in Anton’s Grocery. Mrs. Anton was answering the phone, but as soon as she hung up, someone asked, “And what’s the news of Michael, Mrs. Anton?”
“News?” she said.
Reading Group Guide
Our Book Club Recommendation
Pulitzer Prize winner Anne Tyler -- one of the foremost literary chroniclers of relationships -- takes readers into territory at once familiar and new with The Amateur Marriage. In this penetrating look at a relationship gone slowly wrong, she presents reading groups with a memorable opportunity to discuss the complexities of love, and the emotional price which mutual misunderstanding can bring. But more than that, Tyler's rendering of a fractured relationship reveals humor, beauty, and deep devotion even within a family that might be a textbook example of "dysfunctional."
Much of the power of Tyler's story comes from the way she follows Michael and Pauline Anton -- the amateurs of the title -- down through the postwar decades that follow their youthful meeting in the heady days following the attack on Pearl Harbor. Capturing the sense of both uncertainty and exhilaration that characterized the mood of the nation, Tyler relates how the careful, methodical Michael encounters impulsive, sparky Pauline at a moment when their very different personalities seem to pull them toward one another -- though later it will be those same differences that drive them apart. Without ever betraying or abusing one another, they nevertheless embark on courses that result in a greater and greater sense of separation.
As Michael and Pauline mature, raise a family, move to the suburbs, and grow steadily more perplexed by one another's stubborn characters, we watch as the cultural changes of the 1960s transform the American cultural landscape -- and when their oldest daughter runs away, the Antons confront the world of drugs and youth culture with a suddenness that strips them of a layer of self-protective denial. Though they forge on together, Michael and Pauline are changed by their loss; when the breaking point unexpectedly comes, it's both a relief and a tragedy. Reading groups will be moved to discuss the ways these two powerful personalities both support and fail one another, and how The Amateur Marriage leads us to see this unhappy union from both perspectives.
Book clubs will also find that Tyler's two-sided approach, in which the narrative moves back and forth between the perspectives of Pauline and Michael, to be revelatory. And woven in between the sections devoted to these two are chapters told from the points of view of their children. In so doing, Tyler suggests that this battle of wills does not dissolve when the principals stop arguing. Rather, it has a life of its own and has shaped their children's personalities and futures, for good and for bad. Readers will discover that Tyler has offered a novel without a hero or a villain, one that nevertheless brilliantly comprehends the extremes of pain and happiness that comprise an "ordinary" family's life.
Discussion Questions from the Publisher
1. What is noticeable about the narrative voice in the first chapter? At the end of the chapter the narrator states, “They were such a perfect couple. They were taking their very first steps on the amazing journey of marriage, and wonderful adventures were about to unfold in front of them” (p. 34). Whose voice is this meant to be? Why is the chapter called “Common Knowledge”?
2. How does the presence of Mrs. Anton affect Michael and Pauline’s marriage? What has made Mrs. Anton so dependent on her son? Is Michael unfair to Pauline in expecting her to care for his mother? Who is Michael more obligated to—his mother or his wife?
3. How is Pauline’s flirtation with Alex Barrow related to the letters she sent Michael while he was away in the army (pp. 54–55)? What does the reader learn about her character in the chapter called “The Anxiety Committee”? Would someone like Alex Barrow have been a better choice for Pauline? What goes through her mind as she sits downstairs alone? Why does she decide not to go out and meet him that night?
4. In its early chapters, The Amateur Marriage gives readers a view of life in an ethnic working-class neighborhood in Baltimore. Later, the setting shifts to a newly built suburb, where the family gradually moves into the middle class. What are the effects of this shift on the family? How does Anton’s experience reflect a change in American family life in the postwar decades?
5. Michael thinks of Pauline as “a frantic, impossible woman, so unstable, even in good moods, with her exultant voice and glittery eyes, her dangerous excitement” (p. 167). Meanwhile Pauline “chafed daily at . . . his rigidity, his caution, his literal-mindedness . . . his reluctance to spend money, his suspicion of anything unfamiliar, his tendency to pass judgment . . . [and] his magical ability to make her seem hysterical” (p. 75). Does the narrative present us with a more positive view of Michael or of Pauline? Who is the more sympathetic character?
6. Pauline enters Michael’s life in a vivid red coat, bleeding because she jumped impulsively from a streetcar to join a parade (pp. 3–5). Does the report of her death in a car accident years later (pp. 275–76) imply that Pauline hasn’t changed? Why does Tyler frame Pauline’s presence in the novel with two accidents?
7. As he posed in the photography studio for a fifteenth-anniversary portrait with Pauline, Michael remembers thinking, “Who was this woman? What did she have to do with him? How could they be expected to share a house, rear children together, combine their separate lives for all time? The knob of her shoulder pressing into his armpit had felt like an inanimate object” (p. 137). The photograph shows “Mr. and Mrs. Perfectly Fine. . . . An advertisement for marriage” (p. 137). Are these thoughts an indication that, for Michael at least, the marriage is doomed? How does this photograph relate to the double portrait described on p. 172? What distinction is Tyler making between the public and private aspects of married life?
8. Reflecting on his marriage, Michael imagines that “all those young marrieds of the war years” have grown “wise and seasoned and comfortable in their roles, until only he and Pauline remained, as inexperienced as ever—the last couple left in the amateurs’ parade” (p. 168). He felt they were “more like brother and sister than husband and wife. This constant elbowing and competing, jockeying for position, glorying in I-told-you-so” (p. 168). How common are the problems that Michael and Pauline experience in their relationship? Is Michael correct in thinking that he and Pauline are unusual in their long-standing “amateur marriage”?
9. Do Michael and Pauline handle their trip to San Francisco well or badly? Why do they take Pagan home without pursuing their attempt to bring Lindy home as well? Why do they never go back and try again? Does the episode suggest that they are both fundamentally passive and ineffectual people? Or does it suggest, on the other hand, that they are realistic and know how to protect themselves from grief?
10. How is the narrative organized, and how do the chapters handle the flow of time? What is achieved in the structure that Tyler has chosen for this novel? Does the narrative point of view tend to illuminate the thoughts of all characters equally? If not, into which characters are we are given more insight and access?
11. In what ways does Tyler distinguish herself from other contemporary novelists you have read? Look closely at a few favorite passages and discuss how she achieves the effects of style, humor, and insight that make her work so enjoyable.
12. “Time,” Anne Tyler has said, “has always been a central obsession of mine—what it does to people, how it can constitute a plot all on its own.”* Does Michael’s decision to leave the marriage after thirty years, and his careful courtship of Anna, reveal a desire to redeem lost time? How is his relationship with Anna different from his first marriage? Why doesn’t Pauline remarry?
13. How surprising is the reappearance of Lindy? Why has Lindy never tried to contact Pagan before this? Is her return to the story satisfying or not?
14. To Lindy, the family was like “an animal caught in a trap. . . . Just the five of us in this wretched, tangled knot, inward-turned, stunted, like a trapped fox chewing its own leg off” (p. 300). Does Tyler suggest that such a feeling is natural when people feel alienated from their families or misunderstood by them? What might Michael and Pauline have done differently? Is their helplessness in the face of Lindy’s unhappiness their own fault, or does the novel suggest that there is a limit to what parents can feel responsible for?
15. How are George and Karen affected in their development by the disappearance of Lindy and by their parents’ troubled marriage? Does Tyler suggest that children become themselves in spite of, or in reaction to, family stresses?
16. Anne Tyler has said, “My fondest hope for any of my novels is that readers will feel, after finishing it, that for a while they have actually stepped inside another person’s life and come to feel related to that person.”* Does The Amateur Marriage achieve this goal?Suggested Reading
John Cheever, The Stories of John Cheever; Michael Cunningham, The Hours; Gustave Flaubert, Madame Bovary; Jonathan Franzen, The Corrections; Rohinton Mistry, Family Matters; Alice Munro, Hateship, Friendship, Courtship, Loveship, Marriage; Reynolds Price, Kate Vaiden; Philip Roth, American Pastoral; Richard Russo, Empire Falls; Dani Shapiro, Family History; Carol Shields, Unless; Mona Simpson, Anywhere but Here; Christina Stead, The Man Who Loved Children; Eudora Welty, The Collected Stories of Eudora Welty
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
It is so hard to end a book like Amatuer Marriage. Following these young people thru life, and getting to know the family, with all there faults just like us, it was difficult to get to the end. Very emotional, and hard to say goodbye. Highly recommend.
All we want to know from a customer review is: do you like it or not? So do I like it? Yes! Emphatically!
No big plot here. Just a family, living life. Surprisingly gratifying and enchanting. Michael and Pauline meet just when America is entering the second world war. They fall in love, marry, have children, and then wonder why they marry. They have so much sturm and drang in their relationship that you almost cheer when Michael leaves. Once he does though, you miss them together, you miss their dynamic, and by the end of the novel, you know that they always loved each other. The characters are all so human, so lovable, foibles and all. I really enjoyed this book.
Anne Tyler has created a family of well formed characters in The Amateur Marriage. Terrible things happen to them, lives do not go as planned and over all they live superlatively imperfect lives. Nevertheless - I found that I cared and worried about all the people in this family. I have to admit, the plotline was so real and upsetting in places that I found my mood was affected by it well after I had put the book down. I can't say that it was an enjoyable read, but it was well written and compelling.
One of Anne Tyler's best books!!! Michael and Pauline get married during excitement and frenzy of WWII. These are two people that, had they met at another time, would not have ended up together . As always Tyler writes about most painful and funny aspects of marriage between Michael and Pauline is such a heart wrenching way that you can't help but feel sorry for them both.
I thought to read another Anne Tyler book as I enjoyed Digging to America earlier this year. I listened to the downloadable audio version of this one (but this is the closest record I can find). It was interesting enough to finish, but I didn't care for the style as much as Digging, and I didn't care for either of the main characters, they were both just annoying -- especially the wife. So it wasn't a favorite.
In this novel by Anne Tyler two attractive young people rush into marriage at the beginning of World War II. Over the years they experience the same things as their friends but can't seem to mend differences unlike other couples. When they finally move to an upscale neighborhood only Pauline (the wife) is happy; Michael misses his friends and the area where he grew up. Too soon they find themselves responsible for a grandchild but instead of this drawing them closer it broadens the gap between them. A return trip to the old neighborhood some thirty years later finally convinces Michael that you can't go home to the same things you once knew. In this book author Anne Tyler rounds out her characters with such depth that this reader felt on an intimate basis with them. While the story touches on everyday aspects that everyone will recognize, the characters are sure to evoke a sense of rightness with the way they are brought to life. A pleasure to read.
long-winded! I thought this book would never end!
Sympathetic portrait of a poorly matched couple who never manage to bridge the gap between them. Despite their good-faith efforts, they remain incomprehensible to each other, over decades of marriage. Along with insights about marriage, Tyler offers an evocative glimpse of small town life in Post-WW II America.
In the 1940's, Michael and Pauline get married but are very different from each other. The book follows the couple through their lives. They have 3 children, the oldest one disappears and Michael and Pauline end up raising that daughter's child.
Once again, Anne Tyler takes a poignant look at everyday life in her The Amateur Marriage. In this book, Tyler examined the ups and downs of marriage and family life through main characters, Michael and Pauline. The story opened with the couple meeting during the whirlwind of the attack of Pearl Harbor. They married after a brief courtship ¿ each with their own goals and opposite personalities. Michael was quiet, calculating and withdrawn; Pauline was talkative, extroverted and impulsive. With some couples, the opposing personalities strengthen their marriage, but Michael and Pauline struggled deeply with communication. I wanted Michael to talk more openly and Pauline to really listen. They faced many hiccups ¿issues with their children, deaths of their parents and raising a grandchild ¿ but they always missed the mark about being open and honest with each other.This story was a great primer on what to do and not do with your spouse. Perhaps engaged couples could benefit from the lessons taught in The Amateur Marriage. Despite the many books, counselors and friendly advice, we really are amateurs when we marry. To me, Tyler is at her best with The Amateur Marriage. Some readers may get frustrated with her narrative style and leaping time frames, but it did not distract me. If you loved Breathing Lessons or The Accidental Tourist, then I would highly recommend this book to you.
I liked it in an interesting way. It was sort of a slow soap opera. You never knew what would happen. I didn't like that she skipped around so much in the time frames. Each chapter could be 5-10 yrs from the other. The lesson was great though. That even if you feel your marriage isn't right, real, etc, you can still love that person forever. Doesn't mean also that you nec. should marry.5/8/04
Interesting cast of characters. Michael and Pauline get married but you don't ever really feel like they loved each other. I remember feeling very annoyed with Pauline by the end of the story!
If you are looking ahead to 14 hours on an airplane, any book by Anne Tyler is a winner. They are interesting, fun, quirky, and easy to read when you are half asleep. But that said, this is not one of my favorites. If you have a choice, pick up Back When We Were Grownups instead of this one. That's the book where I think she got this story right.
A marvellous, multi-layered novel: a detailed, non-judgemental portrait of the most typical marriage imaginable, full of startlingly real and recognisable (¿Oh my god, that¿s my dad!¿ characters) and, at the same time, a series of snapshots of the mid-to-late 20th century: a clannish Polish neighbourhood at the (American) outset of the second World War, ghastly never-had-it-so-good 50¿s suburbia, the growing discontent of the sixties, the multi-ethnicism of the present day. Flawlessly written, a beautiful book.
A little less dysfunctional than Anne's earlier books--which is a relief. Love the Baltimore familiar background--always a comfort.
Tyler's characters are so easy to identify with. The way the novel moves throughout time and jumps to various perspectives is interesting and makes the work seem very intimate. A sense of separation prevails as the characters combat each new challenge. A very moving novel.
Pauleen and Michael meet in the heady days after pearl harbor and marry a while later in a similar blur. The strength of this domestic tale is how well the characters are captured. The narrative follows the two for the next 50 years, through the running away of their daughter and the disintegration of their marriage. I did this as an audio book (read by the excellent blair brown) and found myself cringing at the dialog, not because it was bad but because it was so real and I wanted the characters to be less cruel to one another. While this is not a happy book, it is a sobering one, which led me to think about my own relationship and relate strongly to mike and pauleen.
This is the second Anne Tyler book I've read, and the second disappointment. She writes along the types of themes that I tend to like, but this book had me impatient and kind of grumpy.Not that I expected it to be uplifting--it's the story of an unhappy marriage, after all. But I kept wishing for something to hold onto, some thread to pull me through the story and tie it all together and help me make sense of it, and that thread was missing. Often this thread is the primary characters, but Michael and Pauline left me at a loss much of the time. The secondary characters lacked depth--Michael and Pauline's children and grandchildren float in and out of the storyline and by the time you've figured out how old they are in ten years have gone by and they seem like completely different people. A daughter runs away and we don't know her well enough to care whether she's coming back. A grandson who lives with the main characters and is very important to both of them, is like a shadow that crosses through the prose here and there--the segment in which he speaks the most is the one in which he's pulling away. The climactic moment when they all come back together again shows the main characters at the periphery if at all--we're supposed to care how these characters we hardly know react to each other?I will admit, too, that I'm not crazy about lifespan books. Some authors love to follow characters through until the end of their lives but I like to be left with a little lift, a moment to wonder what will happen next. This book left me with nothing but relief that it was over.
I was a big fan of Tyler's earlier books, then lost interest. This is the first one I've liked in a while--about a girl and boy from different backgrounds who fall in love and marry during World War II, have three children, move to the suburbs and eventually split up. As usual, Tyler creates a wonderful background with the Baltimore setting.There are so many wonderfully observed moments and, as usual, I love the Baltimore setting.
I really throughly enjoyed this book, I think mainly because the characters seemed so realistically obnoxious and annoying. At some points you feel like slapping them, but for the most part you think "people are like this" and it saddens you. But overall I think Anne Tyler did a great job with this book.
Tyler at the height of her powers; a novel that rings true. But so sad.
Ah, it's the classic story: Boy meets Girl, Boy marries Girl, Boy and Girl have a family, Boy and Girl spend thirty years questioning their decisions and wondering why they ever married each other.Okay, maybe it's not a classic love story, but it does serve as the basis for Anne Tyler's novel The Amateur Marriage. It's the story of a couple who fell in love shortly after Pearl Harbor and did what all young couples did back then, they got married and started a family. Friends and family see them as the perfect couple - an example of opposites (he rational and introverted, she flighty and extroverted) attracting, but their differences often cause arguments and doubt. Do other seemingly "normal" couples have these same doubts?The book takes you completely through their story, from the 1940's to present day, sometimes in his voice, sometimes hers (and later from a grown son's point of view). As the decades roll by the book stops at major events in the life of this family and their impact on an already precarious relationship.While there's no doubting that this is an Anne Tyler novel (Baltimore setting, family story, dead-on dialog), the almost total lack of optimism kind of threw me. No matter how bad things got in other stories of hers, like Breathing Lessons, Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant, and The Accidental Tourist, there was always hope, but for most of this book you don't feel hopeful. Those novels also had their moments of humor, something else that is missing from The Amateur Marriage.And yet this novel is a good read not in spite of what it's lacking, but because of it. It's the story of two people who probably should have never gotten married, and that's not very hopeful or humorous. So it's not a happy story, but that doesn't mean it's not an interesting one. Tyler spends most of the time inside these people's heads and does a fantastic job getting both side's thoughts. You never blame one spouse over the other because neither is completely bad or completely good, they're just wrong for each other. It's not an easy story to tell, but I think Tyler does a good job tackling a tough subject.
This is a book I will definitely read again someday. When thinking about this review I wanted to box this story into a corner and call it a sad book, but I couldn't. It's such an accurate portrait of how a marriage (and ultimately, a life) can end up that I can't just call it "sad." How can I when it's beautiful, funny, tragic, infuriating, intelligent, frightening and honest all at the same time?Michael and Pauline are two teenagers whose lives collide at the start of World War II. Their romance is the result of a marriage between a fear of the future and the desire to be someone else at that very instant. Michael wants a girlfriend, any girlfriend. Sensing Pauline's fascination with the war effort he spontaneously enlists. Pauline wants a soldier for a boyfriend. Any soldier. The culture and uncertainly of the times have thrown these two people together in such a way that neither of them can back out, despite the growing realization they were never meant to be together.One things leads to another and soon thirty years have gone by. Pauline and Michael divorce and life goes on. And on. While the marriage didn't survive more than halfway through the novel, Michael and Pauline go on. Their relationship from beginning to end and beyond is captured beautifully.
I gave this book four stars, but I can't quite put my finger on why. I think this is a book where the sum is greater than the parts. The characters were decent (although sometimes quite obnoxious) and the story was reasonably compelling, but there was something about how it was all put together that made it more readable and interesting than it seemed like it should have been.