The Story of a Marriage

"'We think we know the ones we love,' begins Andrew Sean Greer's bewitching third novel, The Story of a Marriage, a book whose linguistic prowess and raw storytelling power is almost disruptive to the reader. It's too good to put down and yet each passage is also too good to leave behind . . . Greer's short novel feels admirably worked over—like a long-simmered sauce. He near-brilliantly juxtaposes the nuances of love, sexual awakening and the sometimes suffocating sacrifices marriage demands against broader cultural observations about political turmoil, the physical and emotional effects of war, sexual repression and racism . . . His book is a perfect mix of what we seek from literature—captivating storytelling; a complex, finely tuned structure; stunning language; and astute observations about both the mundane intricacies of everyday relationships and society as a whole. Indeed, The Story of a Marriage is as much a war story as it is a love story."—Deborah Vankin, Los Angeles Times Book Review 

"The cleverest aspect of The Story of a Marriage is the way Greer uses the little dramas of private individuals to enact and embody the abstract political and social concerns of the country at large. In Greer's novel, the lack of understanding between individuals, and our failure to grasp that very lack of understanding—the idea that, as Pearlie states more than once, ‘We think we know the ones we love—is made to stand for the lack of understanding between different communities within American society. The idea that ‘what we love turns out to be a poor translation, for instance, is later brought back in a very different and much broader context. Here is Pearlie describing the appearance of Paul Robeson's wife, Eslanda Goode Robeson, before the House Un-American Activities Committee, and her unexpected invocation of the 15th Amendment . . . The Story of a Marriage is the story of an entire country of people who cannot speak to or hear one another. Pearlie's husband, Holland, remains an enigma not only to her but also to the reader. Indeed, he rarely appears in the book, and when he is onstage, he does little. One comes to believe that he is one of those people whose presence is so minimal that one is never certain whether he is even in the room. He is, in a sense, the center of the book, the one whose actions set everything in motion, yet we never witness those actions directly and instead only hear about them, and the center feels like a hollow void. And Pearlie, too, seems somehow absent, as if, despite her role as first-person narrator, her real conversation with herself is taking place on a level to which we have no real access. (Though then again, perhaps it is Pearlie herself who has no access to her real thoughts and feelings.) . . . Greer's focus in this novel is on those members of that generation who stayed on these shores, many of whom in their various ways suffered tremendously, sufferings that, in keeping with the book's overall theme, frequently proved incomprehensible to others. Wives and girlfriends, mothers and fathers, draft dodgers, conscientious objectors (referred to in the slang of the day as 'conchies'), all of these had their own particular stories of misery, heartbreak, isolation and occasionally madness. But these stories were often too painful, too terrible to tell. And even when their bearers managed to find the strength of will to articulate them, what they all too often found was that there was no one who would listen."—Troy Jollimore, San Francisco Chronicle 

"You could say that Andrew Sean Greer is back at it again, cleverly telling tales with his elegant sleight-of-hand. His last novel, The Confessions of Max Tivoli, set in early 20th century San Francisco, chronicled the adventures of said Max, who at birth resembles an old man but with each passing year grows younger in appearance, upending life-cycle assumptions and limitations. Greer's new novel, The Story of a Marriage, doesn't turn on a series of fantastic, suspension-of-belief plot points, but the unadorned title belies the startling narrative land mines Greer has seeded within the novel . . . Not quite 200 pages, the novel nonetheless has grand, sweeping ambitions, taking on war, race, sexual orientation, patriotism, the shifting notion of what it is to be an American. Holland's past and Pearlie's future are backdropped by a country still set off-balance by the atmosphere of war—still haunted by World War II, now buffeted by one in Korea. But it is the book's surprise turns that create the biggest temblors—not just in the lives on the page but also within the reader's minds . . . The book's secrets are the true heart of the matter—like the secrets we keep in life in order, we think, to better manage it. They're so important that in the advanced reader's copy, Greer's editor, Frances Coady, included a note that is a 'plea' not to 'reveal its secrets to those readers coming after you.'"—Lynell George, Los Angeles Times

"Greer is a gifted writer bent on showing that, between the upheaval of World War II and the activism of the 1960s, the political and social issues stirred up in those decades didn't disappear. They were just put out of view while the country took a breath. The Story of a Marriage is a neat little package about one couple that was forced to face them."—Ellen Emry Heltzel, The Seattle Times 

"The haunting questions in Andrew Sean Greer's exquisite new novel resonate with us all: 'What do you want from life? Could you even say?' . . . Revealing secrets in layers as delicate as onionskin, The Story of a Marriage explores the nature of love and connection and human frailty set against a backdrop of war and repression. Author of the poignant The Confessions of Max Tivoli, in which a man ages backward through time, Greer has an intrepid imagination, an uncanny ability to bring the past to rumbling life and a surprising mastery of tension. The Story of a Marriage unfolds in the shadow of one war and the defining memories of another, a domestic drama as suspenseful as any mystery. It's a finely structured whodunnit about the confusion inherent in matters of the heart. Greer doles out revelations with grace and precision—there are surprises in this novel, and it is best to surrender to them without preconceptions. Greer's prose, as in Max Tivoli, is unerringly poetic as he unearths images of Holland's aunts 'unhelpfully placing themselves like cats in an unmade bed' or Pearlie's view of Holland as 'a ghost breaking dishes so someone will know he is there.' Like his intuitive narrator, Greer holds few illusions about nostalgia for the good old days, deftly illustrating the fears and prejudices of the 1950s—racial, sexual, political. 'Fluoridation,' Pearlie reports, 'seemed like a horrible new invention.' . . . A recurring image of Ethel Rosenberg runs through Pearlie's days and dreams as she tries to understand what she wants. (Not bad blood. Not a crooked heart.) Why, she wonders, won't Ethel confess? In the end, though, she comes to learn what we all know: Marriage can be an inscrutable business. 'Anyone watching a ship from land is no judge of its seaworthiness, for the vital part is always underwater. It can't be seen.' What can be seen plainly on every page of this slim, lovely novel is Greer's prodigious talent."—Connie Ogle, The Miami Herald 

"The Story of a Marriage asks in its quiet way what happens when an outsider forces us to face the truth of our private lives—lives assumed to be settled and permanent, if largely unexamined . . . This emotionally complex novel resists tidy conclusions through finely nuanced narrative ambiguity and a bewitching lyricism."—Patrick Denman Flanery, The Times Literary Supplement

"Greer, the author of the national best-seller The Confessions of Max Tivoli, is a wondrously inventive writer. (Max Tivoli was a man born old who aged backwards). Here Greer has constructed a world of silences and shadows, revealing characters one shift of light at a time. So it's hard to tell more of what Drumer's visit does without revealing too much too soon. Better to drift quietly through this mesmerizing tale, where you'll want to charge forward to dig out the secrets in these people's lives while also wanting to drag your heels and revel in the beautiful writing of this hugely talented writer."—Peggy McMullen, The Oregonian (Portland) 

"This is a book that prides itself on  its plot surprises, and begs readers not to give them away . . . The carefully crafted language of this book makes it a pleasure to read. The period details are a treasure. The author does a good job of leading the reader to certain expectations so that plot twists do surprise."—Sue Asher, Historical Novels Review

"This is a haunting book of breathtaking beauty and restraint. Greer's tone-perfect prose conjures an unforgettable woman who exists both within and somehow above the stifling class, racial and sexual constraints of 1950s America—and who must unravel the great mystery of her place within it."—Dave Eggers

"Andrew Sean Greer, one of the most talented young writers of our time, has written a beautiful and moving tale of war, sacrifice, race, and motherhood. But ultimately, as with The Confessions of Max Tivoli, this is a book about love, and it is a marvel to watch Greer probe the mysteries of love to such devastating effect.”—Khaled Hosseini, author of The Kite Runner and A Thousand Splendid Suns

"As he demonstrated in the imaginative The Confessions of Max Tivoli, Greer can spin a touching narrative based on an intriguing premise. Even a diligent reader will be surprised by the revelations twisting through this novel and will probably turn back to the beginning pages to find the oblique hints hidden in Greer's crystalline prose. In San Francisco in 1953, narrator Pearlie relates the circumstances of her marriage to Holland Cook, her childhood sweetheart. Pearlie's sacrifices for Holland begin when they are teenagers and continue when the two reunite a few years later, marry and have an adored son. The reappearance in Holland's life of his former boss and lover, Buzz Drumer, propels them into a triangular relationship of agonizing decisions. Greer expertly uses his setting as historical and cultural counterpoint to a story that hinges on racial and sexual issues and a climate of fear and repression . . . This is a sensitive exploration of the secrets hidden even in intimate relationships, a poignant account of people helpless in the throes of passion and an affirmation of the strength of the human spirit."—Publishers Weekly (starred review)