"Marriage is like a rain forest," Vicki Covington writes in Cleaving. "The story of a marriage contains all that grows in the canopy, all that is visible from an aerial, or public, view. The understory of a marriage is the place where . . . we struggle, fight, and conceive. It's the place where compost is made, where anything can grow, including forgiveness." Told in the authors' alternating voices, Cleaving is both the story and the understory of a marriage. Childhood acquaintances, Vicki and Dennis meet again in their twenties and wed. they "promise each other nothing" and get more than they'd bargained alcoholism, infidelity, infertility, uncertainty. tumult gives way to sobriety, parenthood, and meaningful work, but a yearning remains. In a quest to root themselves in the larger world, they embark on a mission to dig water wells in Central America, assuaging a spiritual thirst by addressing a practical need. Yet even this is part of the story-the visible, overarching canopy-of the marriage. The understory-and the triumph of this haunting book, which is neither sentimental nor cynical-is its portrayal of the eddying of passion through the institution that enshrines but cannot contain it. A soulful and unsparing portrait of the forces that threaten-and sustain-a relationship over time.
This book is so intimate that I found it embarrassing to read. The Covingtons take turns telling the story of their marriage, which includes drug abuse, adultery, and horrible emotional scenes -- but also enduring love. They keep referring to a mission to dig wells in Central America as a metaphor for redemption and faith, and that was in some ways less compelling to me, the way that hearing about other people's good works tends to be.
They both write extremely well, but I came away not sure whether I wanted to know this much about the inner workings of someone else's relationship. I have just reread "Salvation on Sand Mountain," Dennis' book about Appalachian snake handlers, and I find it uncomfortable to witness how little detachment he has from his subject matter in that book -- here I think it is obvious that detachment, for better or worse, is in neither of the Covingtons' natures.
Written by a husband and wife, both of whom had relationships with others which was startling at first and then just seemed like it was woven into the fabric of their humanness. This book was an airport purchase I devoured because it was there more than it was anything super special.
One of my favorite words in the English language is "cleave". Why is it super cool? Because it has two simultaneously opposite meanings! It's the only word in the English language to do so, I believe. "Cleave" can mean either "to slice apart", or "to hold tightly together". Apparently their marriage experienced both, and so it's a little play on words. I really like this author, and I'm just half way into my first book of his so far.
Also, it sounds like his marriage was really rocky and dysfunctional. I like to hear about weird people because I always feel way better about myself after.
I liked this book partly because it mostly takes place in Birmingham, Alabama - where I grew up and still have family. And also because of the authors' honesty in recounting all the troubles they went through in their marriage. However, their honesty about extramarital affairs was hard to read - especially wondering what it would be like to have their friends and acquaintances, and especially their daughters learn all these details - yikes.
Didn't really like the way this couple dealt with each other. My husband and I try to have much more respect and commitment to each other than was seen here. I also wonder how this book has affected their daughters...