Paul and Emily have been friends for decades. Just friends, as they say. Emily’s beautiful, well-off and has always pursued Paul, in her subtle way. He, on the other hand, has never been quite sure why he’s not crazy about her. And then, with his career plummeting along with his self-confidence, Emily invites him to visit her in Ireland, where she lives raising and training horses. And Paul thinks, maybe it’s time to let her catch me. Be a kept man-would that be so bad?
And then-naturally-he falls for the firebrand Irish barmaid, during a week of international protests against the coming Iraq War and a chance that suddenly arises for Paul to turn his whole life around-if he can summon the will to be bold.
Green is about romance in mid-life, when the stakes get so much higher. It’s also about the difference between love and friendship, Ireland, horses, the way greed has infected our whole lives, war, sex, horses, baseball, Ireland, horses and sex. Did I mention sex? And Horses? (Well, I capitalized it that time…)
Ted Krever watched the Beatles on Ed Sullivan, went to Woodstock (the good one), and graduated Sarah Lawrence College with a useless degree in creative writing.
He spent several decades creating programs for ABC News, CBS, CNN, A&E, Court TV, MTV News, Discovery People and CBS/48 Hours, and as VP/Production of a short-lived dotcom.
He has driven a 16-wheeler across the Rockies, shot overnight news in NY City, managed a revival-house movie theater and married twice, in a triumph of optimism.
He was once accused of attempting to blow up Ethel Kennedy with a Super-8 projector.
Green is a delightful book. Written by Ted Krever, it's a smart, witty and wise look at love later in life by a writer who’s . . . well, later in life. Green couldn’t have been written by a younger man; there’s too much hard-won wisdom in its pages.
Fifty-something Paul Roget has been invited to Ireland by his college friend, Emily Ormond. Paul is a former on-air celebrity--a business news reporter who’s been out of work for a year. Paul is currently repping the "Getaway Bed," an eleven-thousand dollar sleeping environment being marketed as an antidote to stress in a post 9/11 world. Paul does manage to sell the Getaway Bed franchise--and meets one of the book's most fascinating characters in the process--but the bed is only an amusing sub-plot.
Green is not about beds or bed salesmanship; it’s about love. In fact, there’s so much love in the air that--just like the beautiful light in Ireland--every character seems bathed in it.
First, Emily and Paul have an attraction, a push-pull that has existed since their college days. Emily herself is wondering if she might be gay and has a giddy, stammering crush on an art dealer named “Maeve” who’s sexual preference is, as the novel begins, unknown. Then there’s Malcolm Lowell. Malcolm is Emily’s “horse landlord,” a world-famous rider, a dashing Colonel in the Irish Defense Forces and, initially, Paul’s rival. Malcolm is also steadfastly in love with Emily and is waiting patiently for her to realize it and fall into his arms. And then Paul meets Jillian: a poet, a barmaid, an anti-war activist, and a bold, challenging woman who beguiles him as much as the beauty of Ireland is starting to do. And, they're off!
Well . . . not really.
If I’ve made Green sound like a bodice-ripping romance novel, I apologize. It’s not. Green rests solidly in the literary novel genre.
Ted Krever’s characters have all been wounded, but they carry their wounds with them in their search for love and happiness. Emily has survived the death of her husband, Dyson. A beautiful woman, she’s also a cancer survivor. Here she talks about life after chemo.
“I just don’t want the sex, which is the only thing anyone thinks of. But I wanted to be wanted. Doesn’t everyone? I’ve put so much of myself into…this,” she ran her hands across her shoulders and breasts, her belly and hips and thighs.
“Desire. It’s the most powerful constant, more than money or power or love. Anticipation’s better than reality, over and over. And I’m going to have to give it up—soon. Women’s bodies wear out faster than men’s. I might be a better person when it’s gone—but I don’t really believe that. And I surely won’t be the same. It’s my power. No one gives up power in this world voluntarily. Not countries. Not people. No one.”
Paul’s romance with Jillian is central to the tale. In this passage, he is leaving her apartment at dawn.
"I spotted the signs before reaching Jill’s front door. Alongside the radical’s library—Marcuse! Das Kapital with pages thumbed and notes scribbled in margins!—two pair of jeans way too big for her perched atop the laundry bin; a pile of music magazines sprawled across the cheap coffee table. I wasn’t checking—they were just there. There was another man who made himself comfortable in this apartment. It was the reason she’d dragged me through the living room when we first came in.
I held back the protest inside—what was the point? It was just one more place in life where I had no say. She was funny, lovely, uninhibited and skilled at charming and juggling the attentions of all things male. I’d had my romantic dream; now here was reality. I pulled the door closed and marched up the hill toward Em’s house.
Violet light seeped through morning fog.
Green is funny, too. Krever has done a wonderful job with the descriptions of Ireland. Here’s a small village market:
The packages on these shelves were simple and functional, designed by some underpaid artist in a back-room instead of an army of marketers and seven terabytes of extrapolated focus groups. The milk in the stand-up refrigerator said ‘Lisheen Creamery’ above a simple line drawing of the bridge at the center of town. Chrome and glass cabinets displayed fresh-cut meat and cheese. Next to these bits, American produce looked cartoonishly unnatural, inflated helium and candlewax, hype and hubris. I wondered how expensive it would be to go vegan when I got home.
Green is a charming book. Ted Krever writes with a sure hand and a light touch. The lightness, love and witty dialog made me think of A Midsummer Night's Dream, so I can heartily recommend Green to anyone who enjoys a rich love story — and feels like taking an armchair trip to Ireland.
I don't really understand why I'm being asked to review my own book. But okay, here goes... I think this is my best straight novel (the thriller comes next). It took nine years on and off to get it right but I'm proud of it. It's funny and painful and real. I hope to write a few more like it (but faster).
I was at first reluctant to accept this book to read and review, but after my enjoyment of Ted Krever’s “Mindbenders,” I decided to give it a try, and I am glad I did so. While I am not a fan of romance or typical women’s literature, this story provides something different – something real. It would provide too many spoilers to even attempt a plot synopsis. “Green” is about life, love and belonging; it is about desire and being desired; it is about gaining a new lease on life by allowing yourself to truly feel. While the author has described it as romance, it is not your typical romance story – I’m not sure how else one would describe it, but do not go into this book thinking you will be reading anything typical. This novel is, quite simply, about people; their desires to be wanted, and their effects on those around them in their struggles to belong.
Paul (formerly somewhat of a star in the television business world) and Em (a horsewoman and painter who has homes in both Ireland and the U.S.) have been friends since their time at Sarah Lawrence University; while Em has made it plain she would like a relationship with Paul, he simply does not feel the same way about her, despite how much he loves her. She has invited him to come to Ireland to spend some time with her there. While there, Paul will learn the difference between just surviving and really living, and that truly living, while chaotic, is also exciting. Ted Krever has really hit the nail on the head, and has given us a unique look into the mindset of men, rather than the typical romance, which is told from the woman’s point of view. While the overall story would be considered drama, there is also a great deal of subtle humour and I found myself laughing aloud more than once, only to shortly thereafter find myself deeply touched.
The descriptions Krever gives of Ireland are alone worth the price of the book; but the whole story is beautifully done, smoothly plotted and brilliantly executed. I can highly recommend this book to anyone who enjoys a good story, no matter what it is about. If you like reading about horses, Ireland, friendship, love in any form … well, the list goes on. Give “Green” a chance – I truly believe you will enjoy it.