In this acclaimed novel that inspired the Academy Award–winning motion picture, Larry McMurtry created two unforgettable characters who won the hearts of readers and moviegoers everywhere: Aurora Greenway and her daughter Emma.
Aurora is the kind of woman who makes the whole world orbit around her, including a string of devoted suitors. Widowed and overprotective of her daughter, Aurora adapts at her own pace until life sends two enormous challenges her way: Emma’s hasty marriage and subsequent battle with cancer. Terms of Endearment is the Oscar-winning story of a memorable mother and her feisty daughter and their struggle to find the courage and humor to live through life’s hazards—and to love each other as never before.
Larry Jeff McMurtry was an American novelist, essayist, and screenwriter whose work was predominantly set in either the Old West or contemporary Texas. His novels included Horseman, Pass By (1962), The Last Picture Show (1966), and Terms of Endearment (1975), which were adapted into films. Films adapted from McMurtry's works earned 34 Oscar nominations (13 wins). He was also a prominent book collector and bookseller. His 1985 Pulitzer Prize-winning novel Lonesome Dove was adapted into a television miniseries that earned 18 Emmy Award nominations (seven wins). The subsequent three novels in his Lonesome Dove series were adapted as three more miniseries, earning eight more Emmy nominations. McMurtry and co-writer Diana Ossana adapted the screenplay for Brokeback Mountain (2005), which earned eight Academy Award nominations with three wins, including McMurtry and Ossana for Best Adapted Screenplay. In 2014, McMurtry received the National Humanities Medal. In Tracy Daugherty's 2023 biography of McMurtry, the biographer quotes critic Dave Hickey as saying about McMurtry: "Larry is a writer, and it's kind of like being a critter. If you leave a cow alone, he'll eat grass. If you leave Larry alone, he'll write books. When he's in public, he may say hello and goodbye, but otherwise he is just resting, getting ready to go write."
“She had made every effort to remain active, to keep open to life, and yet life was beginning to resist her in unexpected ways. Men, some of them decent and good, seemed to march through her life almost daily, and yet they caused so little to stir within her that she had begun to be afraid – not just that nothing would ever stir again, but that she would stop wanting it to, cease caring whether it did or not, or even come to prefer that it didn’t.”
If I didn’t have hundreds (okay, thousands) of books on my to-read list, I could easily have started this one right over again just minutes after finishing it. It has every single thing that I search for in a perfect reading experience: engaging dialogue, sharp characterizations, humor, passion, and realistic life situations. I very well may be the only person left on the planet that hasn’t yet seen the film adaptation either, so I went into this without any preconceived notions based on that (although I do know who played the main roles, but they never popped in my head while reading.) One thing, however, that I will say if you don’t already know the gist of the story: Do Not read the blurb on Goodreads or on the back of the book!
“She had never been inclined to pass over accessible hearts, if the person carrying them seemed somewhat palatable.”
Aurora Greenway, nearing her fiftieth year, is irrefutably one of the most memorable characters you will ever come across in literature. Whether you adore her, detest her, or feel a strange mixture of love and hate, there is no way you will ever forget her. I know I won’t. How do I feel about her? Well, I’m not so sure I’d want her for my mother or my employer or my lover, but damn was I fascinated by her! She grew on me, despite all my attempts to keep her at arm’s length. Larry McMurty gave us brief glimpses of a woman that has a hard outer core but a soft middle. Not too often does the gooey goodness inside leak out, but when it does, you are confident that it’s always just there, beneath the surface. Aurora has one daughter, Emma, and a string of suitors. She is not very nice to any of them – most of the time! The dynamics between mother and daughter intrigued me the most on a personal level. I can’t get enough of this kind of stuff. If I didn’t already know McMurtry could write women so convincingly, I’d have asked how on earth he managed to pen these two with such authenticity. He had to have spent untold days of his life observing the relationships between mothers, daughters, lovers and friends. Aurora wants the best for her daughter, but she has a ruthless way of showing it. I admit she made me both cringe and snicker many times.
To Emma: “I’ve never allowed myself to be resigned to anything that wasn’t delightful, and nothing about your life is delightful that I can see. You must make some changes.”
About men: “The fact that most men have the same ultimate motive doesn’t mean that they have the same qualities. Desires may not vary that much, but their expressions do.”
“I’m afraid I’ve never marched to any man’s drum and I’m far too old to start now.”
Despite the fact I originally thought this would be a story about a domineering mother and a submissive daughter, I learned that often in life the tables are turned. Strengths are shown in various ways. It’s not always the loudest person in the room that has substance about her. Quiet fortitude can be just as powerful as brazen authority. I’ve learned this through some rather circuitous channels in my own life, and I was happy to see it illustrated here.
This book made me laugh and cry. I liken it to a tribute to women – women of all ages, sizes, and temperaments. I could just imagine Larry McMurtry tipping his hat in admiration to each and every one of us. May you rest in peace, dear sir.
“Well, if you’ve reached the stage where you’ve got to have a woman, you’re going to feel ridiculous the big part of the time anyway. I was never mixed up with nobody from further east than Little Rock neither. I never said more than howdy to a smart woman in my life, and I still went around feeling dumb half the time. They’re smarter than us – that’s what it boils down to.”
I just finished off this novel with a session of sobbing that could easily rival a graveside funeral of a beloved friend.
I'm not kidding. What I just went through was the total opposite of a good cry.
It was fitting, though. This has been an incredible journey, one that I started with Larry McMurtry in July of this year.
You see. . . Terms of Endearment and The Evening Star are two of McMurtry's best known novels, but many readers don't realize that they are actually books #3 and #6 of his Houston series. I was one of these readers, originally, and I read this novel alone, and liked it, but I spent more time comparing it to the famous movie then I did focusing on the writing or character development.
It's okay. Each one of the stories in this series can stand on its own and survive any confused chronology, especially given their own circuitous overlaps. But now that I started properly this year with Moving On and then All My Friends are Going to Be Strangers, two wonderful and awful things happened. . . I became more deeply invested in the characters and. . . I became more deeply invested in the characters!
And what a character we have here, in Aurora Greenway, made famous, of course, by Shirley MacLaine's portrayal of her in the movie. . . but let's forget about all of that for now.
For now, let me tell you, I loved every page. I never wanted the book to end. I read it as slowly as I could, in the hopes that I could prolong my relationship with Aurora. She is one of the most ridiculous fictional women ever to appear in print, and I can NOT BELIEVE my delicious good fortune, that I will meet her again in book #6, The Evening Star.
Do not confuse Larry's Houston series with his Westerns, please, these here are city folks. But, when it comes to Larry, it doesn't matter who you are or where you live; as a writer, he is only concerned with matters of the heart.
And, it's here. It's all here: love, sex, marriage, monogamy, infidelity, insecurity, life and mortality. The man can not help but pick up every stone and stare at it and then tell you what it says.
The times depicted here are the early 1960s and 70s in Texas and we encounter wives being beaten by bad husbands, double standards everywhere for women, and too many disappointments to share, but Aurora and her daughter, Emma, also represent, at different times, the maiden, the mother, the queen and the crone. Through them, we are able to see both the limitations and the potential for all women, at all times.
I hold this one so close to my heart, I almost can't stand the bittersweet joy of it.
Larry's been “accused” of writing women better than most female writers and damn it if I don't agree with that assessment.
"They’re doing a biopsy," Emma told him. "That’s the modern way of casting bones". YIKES!!!......You’d like to think modern laboratory medicine has trundled along a bit more than that over the past 100 years.
I won’t forget Term of Endearment by Larry McMurty in a hurry. I was a McMurty virgin, but I can see myself loosening up in this regard, for sure!
For those who aren’t familiar, the story centres around the irrepressible Aurora, an almost 50-year old widow and her relationship with her lovely daughter Emma. Aurora comes with a very large footprint, big, loud, moody, demanding and argumentative (they’re her good qualities) – she’s also a chronic flirt and has a conga-line of middle-aged men following her around with their tongues hanging out. They’re totally obsessed with her, all craving her hand in marriage and they make no secret of that fact. The thing I do like about Aurora is, she doesn’t compromise her beliefs or behaviour – in other words, if they don’t like it, they can shut the door on the way out!
Now poor Emma is married to an absolute tool called “Flap” – a character totally devoid of any good qualities at all. None. What the hell did Emma see in him? The bond between Aurora and Emma is strong and like several mother-daughter relationships I’ve witnessed in my own life, they talk (phone) to each other at least daily and argue even more regularly.
This is a story about life in general. The way McMurty writes this he had me totally engrossed, yes that includes laughing, ‘goshing’ and tearing up (not quite balling). He presents a whole bunch of interesting characters, my favourites being Emma (gorgeous) and Vernon (marry him…………….I would!). Then there’s a whole gaggle of unlikable characters such as Flap, Royce (Uuuurgh) and the General – why on earth does Aurora indulge him?? WHY??? I would have left him by the side of the road - FOREVER.
I do have a confession - about three-quarters of the way through this book I was sitting at around 3.5 stars. I was becoming weary of Aurora. I found her a little tiresome, there is no way I could ever live or hang around with her – she is way too much. So, reading about her was becoming a little tedious too. Yes, she was funny at times, surprising and entertaining – but too much!
She’s also a grammar Nazi ”Please don’t leave off your pronouns,” Aurora berates Vernon, “You’ve no idea how it irritates me to hear people chop up their sentences that way”……………………Note to self.
The saver for me, turning this into a 5-star effort, was the last section called Book II, Mrs Greenway’s Daughter (Emma) 1971-1976. This last section pops up, at the point this story could very well have finished. These remaining 50 or so pages, were to me – overwhelmingly powerful. I certainly don’t want to give anything away for those who haven’t read this book – but the experiences of beautiful Emma were just too much for me, her story and journey did make my eyes well up and I certainly choked a bit. But more importantly, McMurty really nailed the important themes in this section 100%! It will stay with me for a long time.
Before reading this author, I was under considerable pressure from a few GR mates, I had heard McMurty described women well. Well yes, he does – but I can only comment as an observer of women. But it’s worth noting, he also creates and develops male characters just as well in my view. Each male character in this book had thoughts, characteristics, qualities, deficiencies I’ve either observed in blokes I know, or I have them myself.
I had never seen the movie & before doing so I picked up this book by the writer of Lonesome Dove. That work cannot be too easily compared to this estrogen-drenched Fem-Power! novel which paints its heroine Aurora Greenway as a sassy matriarch deeply afraid of becoming a grandmother & too selfaware of her love life to stop & help all of her sisters in plight: mainly, her daughter and her maid, who suffer at the hands of stupid husbands. Aurora has all the suitors eating right out of her hand. The movie is something truly v. different from the book.
That said, I cannot help but LOVE both movie and book because they are PERFECT companion pieces. The book is odd, the dialogue provides the clout. The movie, written in what I will call one of the Best Screen Adaptations of All Time (by James L. Brooks), deviates completely from the themes in the McMurtry novel of gender roles and life & love after 50. The movie starts off somewhere, then completely gives us something else when it was least expected; almost as if the characters we relate to and fall in love with are perpetual "fish out of water." The deus ex machina is unbearable; though in the book there is ample preparation and foresight for it--the character of Aurora's daughter Emma is given only contours in the book, whereas the daughter-mother relationship is blatant and the juice at the core of the 1983 film.
The book has crisply-written, impeccable prose; a maudlin realism that contrast beautifully with sultry Aurora's signature snaps and retorts, & it has an eternal companion piece on celluloid that elevates it to a higher plane entirely.
Abandoned at pg 280. I was expecting this to be a cross between John Updike and Cormac Macarthy. Something challenging and richly resonant. Instead it's a fluffy romcom. How much you enjoy it will depend on how charming and funny you find Aurora and her collection of male suitors. I'm afraid I must be a sourpuss because I found too much of the comedy overly slapstick for my taste. On the back cover he is praised for how well he gets women. There's truth in this. The problem was more that the women interact largely with a cast of male caricatures. I know there are plenty of men in the world who don't go much beyond caricature but the relentless lampooning of male ineptitude didn't make for a very thought provoking novel. McMurtry was too fawning in his courting of the female reader for my liking. Shouldn't we all stand up for our own sex to some degree? There were also one or two incidents of disparaging racial stereotyping which didn't sit well. Now Julie will never talk to me again….
Acidic. Incohesive. Compassionate. Sprawling. Magnanimous. These are words that come to mind reading Terms of Endearment, which completed Larry McMurtry's so-called Houston Trilogy in 1975, with Moving On and All My Friends Are Going To Be Strangers preceding it and a hit movie following. I still feel that McMurtry's novels--at least the three I've read--are too long and suffer in repetition and a lack of focus, a charge that McMurtry is not alone in committing among my favorite authors. The last 47 pages of this novel are nearly their own short story divorced from the rest of the book but are so great as to justify the indulgence.
The story begins in 1962 with Mrs. Aurora Greenway visitingscolding advising her only child, a housewife named Emma Horton who in the opinion of her mother, has let her hair, figure, wardrobe and social standard fall by the wayside. When Emma announces that she's going to have a baby, Aurora throws a fit, horribly despondent that no suitor will be interested in wooing her when they discover that the forty-nine year old widow is a grandmother. Emma's husband of two years Thomas "Flap" Horton, an egocentric English professor, is not there to defend his wife through the tirade, though it occurs to Emma he wouldn't have risen to challenge Aurora if he had been there.
When she's not hectoring her daughter, Aurora--who lives in Houston's wealthy River Oaks neighborhood on far less capital than people assume--entertains herself with a parade of suitors. There's Hector, a retired general who lives down the block but tries Aurora's nerve by attempting to regiment her flighty behavior. There's Alberto, an Italian opera star in his twilight whose romantic gestures Aurora is much more tolerant of. Her flirtation even inspires the hopes of Royce, the deliveryman husband of her maid of twenty-two years and best friend, Rosie Dunlop. Aurora returns home to discover that Royce lost his temper with Rosie and hit the mother of his seven children.
"Well, dear, what a mess," she said. "At least we can all thank our lucky stars you weren't pregnant again."
"That's right," Rosie said. "I don't want no more kids by that lowlife bastard."
"Nor anyone else, I hope," Aurora said. "My, you do have a knot on your temple. It's a very bad thing, hitting people on the temple. It doesn't seem like Royce at all. If he had admitted his guilt why was it necessary for him to hit you?"
"Because I was trying to stab him, I reckon," Rosie said. "I took a run at him with the butcher knife. I guess if he hadn't got a lick in first he'd be laying there dead right this minute."
"Good God," Aurora said. The thought of Royce lying lifeless on her kitchen floor, three steps from where he'd eaten so much good food, was almost more than she could handle. Rosie began to dry her eyes and soon was a little calmer.
"Well, my afternoon has not been entirely without adventure, either," Aurora said. "This poor creature is Rosalyn Dunlup. Vernon--Rosie, this is Vernon Dalhart."
A dark horse for Aurora's affection is Vernon Dalhart, a diminutive oilman whose bumper Aurora swipes while returning from breakfast with the general. Vernon, a boyish, laid back millionaire of fifty, has two telephones, a television and an ice cooler in his car, which he uses as his primary residence, docking at the end of each day on the roof of a parking garage he owns in downtown Houston. Vernon tells Aurora that he's in love for the first time in his life, but insecure that he'll tire of her moods quickly and run off to one of his oilfields, Aurora relegates Vernon to the role of Johnny on the Spot, a clutch friend whose resourcefulness she comes to lean on in hard times.
While Emma notices that Flap has been paying her more attention sexually, their marriage is poisoned. Whether her habit of reading the classified ads before any other section of the newspaper is the problem, or his flirtations with Emma's best friend Patsy Carpenter, or that the two hate each other despite bringing a child into the world together, neither of them have the courage to divorce. When Flap finally loses his cool with his bride and tries to push her through their bedroom window, Emma picks herself up and shrugs it off, taking Patsy to her mother's for one of her legendary breakfasts and an update on the soap opera over there.
While Emma has realized a purpose finally in motherhood, Aurora fears that she now lacks any purpose. Realizing that it's only a matter of time before she becomes set in her ways and refuses to let any man close to her, Aurora invites the suitor she deems most promising to her bedroom to view her Renoir (Aurora also owns a Klee, an acquisition of her late mother's which she hates). Rosie's love-hate relationship with her husband and with Fifth Ward finally comes to an end and she moves back home to Shreveport. Emma migrates with her husband to Des Moines, where she gives birth to three children but ultimately, discovers her is more vulnerable than her marriage.
She noticed that everyone in the hospital assumed that she was finished. They were polite; they were not perfunctory, but essentially they let her be. It was her own people, not the doctors, who kept pressuring her to get well enough to go home for a while. They all seemed to think it must be what she wanted, but Emma resisted. If she had had the chance she might have gone home and dug in, but she knew she had no chance--knew it from what she felt, not from what she had been told. Once she accepted that, then she accepted the hospital. For those who could be cured, it was a hospital, but for her it was a depot, a kind of bus station; she was there to be transported out of life, and because it was ugly and bare and smelled bad and was run impersonally by hired functionaries, that which was never easy--a departure--could at least be handled efficiently. She didn't want to go home, because at home the warmth and good smells of her life would be overpowering. Her children would drag at her, with their love, their brilliance, and their needs. She would become vulnerable to her little joys: her soap operas, washing Melanie's fantastic hair, Tommy's newest book and Teddy's hug, a nice dawdle with Richard, some Hollywood gossip from Patsy. If she went home, it would hurt too much to die; also it would hurt those who were losing her.
A strength of Terms of Endearment and Larry McMurtry's epics is their variety. Like the weather in Texas, if you don't like it now, wait. I didn't like the way this book started, with a dominating mother hectoring her meek daughter relentlessly. Once the story begins, McMurtry reveals that Aurora isn't so fearless and Emma isn't so submissive. I loved the brush the author paints the city of Houston with, from the mists that roll in from the Gulf to an all-nite diner near the Astrodome that Vernon Dalhart is partial to. His advisers compel him to give Aurora a pet goat, which seems like something that could only happen in Houston or in a Larry McMurtry novel.
The novel is separated into two books. Emma's Mother sprawls across 349 pages while Mrs. Greenway's Daughter occupies the last 47 pages. I began the last leg incredulous that an author would be so indulgent as to tack on an epilogue when his already long novel had a damn good ending, but the climax to Terms of Endearment turns into one of the most profound and emotionally vibrant exposes on death that I've read. It haunted me to the degree I may not have forgotten the next time I visit a hospital and its power would be hard to gauge if McMurtry hadn't done such a good job of investing me in his characters.
The author reports in a preface written in 1989 that he wanted to write a novel about Aurora Greenway, widow of a certain age in Moving On, but discovering that there was no dilemma to her character at all, invented a daughter, Emma, and gave her one. This makes the novel is disjointed by design. McMurtry's favorite character--Rosie--is my least favorite, but the variety of contrasts available, like a bag of Halloween candy, gave me quite a rush. James L. Brooks adapted and directed a film version in 1983 that won five Academy Awards, including Best Picture. Brooks drastically, and righteously, streamlined McMurtry's text, cutting characters and creating new ones.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Terms of Endearment is very much a comedy - mostly. If you've seen the movie, but have not read the book, you might be thinking: Really? Yes, and this was surprising to me as well. I said “mostly” because while much of it is meant to be taken with a grain of salt, there are many situations and moments that are written to be taken seriously. The parts including Aurora's daughter, Emma, were written with serious intention, because that is her. Perhaps that's because she grew up under her mother's casting shadow, for Aurora is nearly ever to be taken seriously, unless she is pushed too far, or if her only child is in trouble. Again, if you know the movie you'll remember that something does.
The more I thought about this book, the more I accepted for it's liberating characters: Who they are. The ending is painful because even though Emma is a secondary character to Aurora, I liked her most. Does she know she's the strongest individual here? Probably not.
I nearly rated this lower. The memory of Lonesome Dove lingers strongly with me. But these are two very different books, and comparing would not be fair. Terms of Endearment has no specific plot, until you look back. It is full of Aurora's crazy wisdom. At one point a decade is leapfrogged. Sounds like complaints, but no, not at all. It's just about these two individuals, and those few within their periphery.
“It was inconsiderate, she thought, how blandly people mentioned the future in the sick rooms. Phrases like next summer were always popping out; people made such assumptions about their own continuity.”
Terms of Endearment is a movie I grew up on and adored. I admit that even though I know every bit of dialogue by now that comes up during the sad scenes, I still sob like a baby during a couple of emotionally crushing scenes.
Terms of Endearment the novel earned my biggest disappointed rating of 2017. Being a big fan of the movie, I was hopeful – and stack on how much I loved reading Lonesome Dove by the author that I had strong belief in his writing ability. What should have been a winning formula instead turned into a story-line that was flat and misdirected with generic and dull characters.
The movie added a lot of plot characteristics that made it work - such as the astronaut next door, Aurora finding love she was afraid to find, the fears of commitment, more on the side of the daughter Emma and her life. In the book most of the first 3/4 is part of a long date where Aurora is going back and forth with annoying two men in her life. It's irritating. The distant style writing with dry scenes and the a woman who it was hard to like didn’t help.
Rosie the maid and her strange husband background take a lot of the book up later too, which I ended up having to skim through. Finally Emma's point of view comes in at the very end but its short lived and doesn't earn more stars. Emma as an actual character was much flatter and not nearly as intriguing since the author wants to focus mainly on Aurora and Rosie.
The mother-daughter bond just doesn’t come across as that convincing, and even the ending isn’t that sad in comparison to how it could have been if the story carried more realistic emotion. There wasn’t enough emotion written into Aurora to make me care as much.
Not a pleasant read or even that sad since the ending is almost an abbreviated afterthought. I don’t read – or watch – simple for sad endings, but the journey was dull as well thanks to almost meaningless aims of Aurora and Rosie and lack of emotion and bonding.
I am not a grandmother type of person, I always liked grandfathers. Women are more vicious and vengeful than men, especially when they are old. But Aurora - she is the coolest woman of certain age (I am sure she would have preferred this phrase instead of being called a grandmother), and I like her!
The last chapter was not fair. I hated that Larry McMurtry wrote that part as a post scriptum. He could have come to this part slowly. Terms of Endearment could have turned out to be another 1000-page book like Moving On. Emma deserves a book about her as Patsy and Aurora do. Larry McMurtry definitely didn't plan these series in advance. However, this is the chapter that made me cry, so maybe he did it intentionally.
It's the third book I am reading in the Houston series and in every book I am attached to female characters and detest men. Only Rosie's husband made me laugh so hard, I almost started liking him. I hoped I will someday visit a bookshop not knowing that I will find Larry McMurtry behind the cash register. I would ask him then how he does it - adorable women and despised men. I will never know now...
Because I disliked the protagonist, Aurora Greenway, so much, the first three hundred and sixty pages felt like a real chore. Most of the time I felt like throwing my copy through the window just so I’d never have to “listen” to her bullshit again.
I’ve got absolutely no complaints about the writing in general, the way the story was told or the characterisation. Oh, and as always with Mr McMurtry, the dialogue was flawless. All this was just what I came to expect from Mr McMurtry after having read five of his novels.
The last fifty pages, which for me, felt more like a short story than the second part of the novel packed an unforgettable punch that made the rest of the book worthwhile.
This could’ve been funny had I liked Aurora more. And it could’ve been less sad if I didn’t love her daughter, Emma, so much.
It seems unfair to rate this four stars only because I disliked the protagonist so much (and most of the other characters too) but I really had a bad time trying to stick with it.
Five million stars for the last fifty pages, though. Yes, I did shed a couple of tears. I guess I’m becoming too soft. Or too old. Or a combination of both.
Genre: Comedy-Drama Publisher: Simon & Schuster Publication Date: 1975
Review from 2018
You have seen the movie and probably read the book (they are dissimilar). So you are probably familiar with the author, Larry McMurtry’s, two characters Aurora Greenway and her daughter Emma. Aurora, a well-to-do widow, “is the kind of woman who makes the whole world orbit around her, including a string of devoted suitors.” Emma, as her mother feels, married beneath her, which is a constant source of friction between them—the line that reads Emma’s husband "ain't fit to kick off a porch" in this book is a term of endearment because she loves her daughter. Get it?
I enjoyed the movie and I am a fan of McMurtry, so it felt like a no-brainer that I would enjoy the book. Unfortunately, it is just an okay read. For once, the movie is better than the book. In both, I didn’t cry (possible spoiler) when Emma dies of cancer. Neither seems very realistic, though at least Emma loses her hair in the novel. Debra Winger remained beautiful until her character dies. Other variations from book to movie are that the novel is 75% about Aurora, which is okay since she is a very funny character. The book switches to the daughter at the end of the novel, but the reader doesn’t have time to connect to her, leaving one without the intended waterworks. There is no Jack Nicholson astronaut character in the novel, but there is Aurora’s maid, Rosie, of twenty-two years, and her husband, both are wonderful characters. Petite Rosie argues “I might not be no bigger than a chicken, but I got fight.” The husband thinks that his wife “is no more buxom than a door-jamb” and he is smitten with voluptuous Aurora, making for good comedy. It is clear that the acclaimed author is a master with words. His dialogue and imagery are superb. And even if his pacing is off in “Endearment,” his skills might be worth the effort of reading the novel.
The least favourite of McMurtry's books so far, for me. The best part was the closing 10 pages, but it was a long, meandering road to get there. Unlike his other work, here I failed to really engage with the characters amd their seemed to be little purpose to their story. The ending does redeem it somewhat though, and there were flashes of his excellent craft and humour hidden away.
I am sorry to say I have DNF'd this one. I resolve to give any book 100 pages to engage with me, and if it doesn't, I move on. Perhaps if I had not just pushed myself through Lolita, I might have pushed myself to finish this one because it was a group read, but alas I did not.
I have read McMurtry books that were wonderful, but this one left me not only flat, but thoroughly aggravated. I did not care for Aurora, I felt rather inclined to strangle her just to shut her up. Then it occurred to me that I COULD shut her up, all I had to do was close the book and not open it again.
So, on to something else and certainly hoping it will be a winner. I was on a roll at the beginning of the year and I seem to have hit a plateau of sorts--several horrid reads, some good reads, but no great ones.
Larry McMurtry era un uomo, nel senso di appartenente al genere maschile. È importante ricordarlo, secondo me, perché in questo romanzo c'è una fortissima contrapposizione tra uomini e donne. Tutti i personaggi principali sono femminili: complicate, capricciose, volubili, irritanti, nevrotiche, esigenti, generose, bellissime nelle loro imperfezioni e irresistibili per gli uomini, sfaccettate e poliedriche. Si scontrano tra di loro e con tutti gli altri, soffrono, si struggono, amano e accudiscono, lottano e resistono, bisticciano e si fanno scudo a vicenda, in un continuo ondeggiare. Gli uomini no, sono tutti descritti come poveri coglioni: vanno a traino, sono delle macchiette, cagnolini scodinzolanti oppure fastidiosi, meschini o innocui, sempre e comunque inadatti.
McMurtry riesce a descrivere le relazioni tra i suoi personaggi in un modo così preciso e articolato da farli sembrare reali. Prendiamo Aurora Greenway: è intollerabile la maggior parte del tempo e a tratti sembra una caricatura, poi improvvisamente fa vedere un lato di sé che la rende a tutto tondo.
Il rapporto madre-figlia, le riflessioni sulla vecchiaia e sullo scorrere del tempo, l'amore, il matrimonio, l'infedeltà, l'amicizia, la lealtà, la coerenza sono tutti temi affrontati quasi sullo sfondo, mentre il lettore accompagna le protagoniste nelle loro vite quotidiane, eppure non c'è nulla di superficiale. Il tutto con la patina anni '60, quando una buona conversazione poteva trarre una signora d'impiccio.
Scopro a posteriori che il romanzo fa parte di una serie con ambientazione urbana (in contrapposizione ai western di McMurtry è maestro) e che ne è stato tratto un film con Shirley MacLaine e Debra Winger, da recuperare.
Having recently read "Lonesome Dove" I realized it had been many years since I'd first read this book. A film buff the Oscar winning movie is memorable, especially Shirley McClain's characterization of Aurora Greenwood, one of the most unique characters every created by any author. I'd forgotten the character Jack Nicholson plays in the film isn't originally in the book, though the trio of Aurora's suitors are just as quirky and would love to have seen them in the film. Regardless Larry shows what a master storyteller he is here, much as he has with other books. His characters are unique, and what plays out keeps the reader engaged. Aurora is quite the character in all respects and you can't help laugh when reading her dialog; 'a real piece of work' comes to mind. Highly recommended in all respects!
My first memories of this book were actually from cable TV. It was on rotation for a while there, and since it didn’t have monsters or spaceships or Jedi or whatever in it, and the trailers were all people doing not very exciting things like talking, I ignored it.
Of course, as my brother would say, in the early 80s I was just a “brain fart” and wouldn’t know good film if it chopped off my hand with a lightsaber.
Forty-odd years later, I can say with modest certainty that I’ve matured. I can tolerate a movie, even a book, about people talking. If somebody loses a limb, that’s a nice bonus, but not a requirement.
I’ve read a lot recently about character-driven fiction, and Terms is a prime example. If there’s a plot, it’s a loose one, crafted around Emma’s pregnancy announcement. But the theme is discontent: Emma’s not happy with her marriage; her mom, Aurora, a widower, is unhappy with her would-be suitors; Rosie, Aurora’s servant is unhappy with her situation; and all of Aurora’s suitors are unhappy with…well, her.
Wow, can Aurora be cruel. Yeah, the suitors aren’t exactly princes, but geez, the manipulation! The snark! She must be Helen of Troy for any man to keep coming back after all that verbal defenestration. But that’s the beauty of how this character is written: we’re left to puzzle why Hector keeps coming over for breakfast, why Vernon offers his fortune to get her and her family out of scrapes. I was both disgusted…and fascinated. Brilliantly written.
Other characters get the same texture. Lots of perspective changes, sometimes within the same page, but the language is simple enough to be understood. We’re taken through the rationale of just about everyone. So, nobody comes off scot-free, since we’re shown the insecurities and anxieties, justified or not, through which no one could emerge a saint. But no villains here, although giving Flap a slap would make me smile.
Everything is TENSE. No, not past or present, but nervous, uncomfortable, dramatic. Aurora enters a scene, and you wait (not long) for her to diss someone. Emma goes home, and before she sits down, she and Flap go at it (slap him, Em!). Best of all was Royce’s hilarious rampage in search of Rosie: cringe comedy at its finest. Big twist at the end, and it’s deeply emotional turning some if not all the vitriol on its head, but no spoilers.
It’s a contemplative novel, one that shouldn’t just be read and stored away. You’ll have to walk around the block and consider the thoughts and values of everyone involved. But you’ll be glad you did, since no great story, not even the fairy tales, are simple and straightforward. Your moms and dads and siblings and friends, even the ones you’ve admired and adored…are complicated. McMurtry does it again, giving us real humans: vulnerable and strong, stupid and smart, cruel and kind.
See, George? I did mature, after all. In your face, sucker!
3.5 stars. I enjoyed this book, although it was a surprisingly light type of enjoyment. It's very funny and, as is typical with a McMurtry book, I loved the characters very much. Vernon was a particular favorite but they were all really wonderful.
I've only seen the movie once or twice so I'm curious to see what people have to say about the book vs movie. The book is mostly about Aurora, with occasional forays into Emma's and some of Aurora's suitors' POVs. Aurora is a vibrant and mercurial character and her suitors were absolutely hilarious. We had a millionaire and oil man who literally lives out of his car, a cantankerous retired general, a former opera singer, and a VP of a bank. All of them get hilariously flustered around Aurora. While it was funny to watch Aurora run rings around these guys I did feel sorry for them. Everyone except the general who I never did warm to.
While we were getting all of this fun about Aurora we also got some information about Emma and her marriage and friends. There were some particularly funny moments around Rosie and her husband Royce, who was a putz.
This lacks the emotional punch of the movie but it still carries one. For an amusing story about a group of very likable characters it's worth the time. His characters are so brilliant and they have such wonderful depth. This was fun :)
This is the first book I have read by Larry McMurtry, but it won’t be my last! You can tell immediately that the author is a screenwriter because much of the book is conversations between the characters- Interesting, diverse conversations!!
Aurora, is such a unique, memorable character. Having seen the movie, I could not help thinking of Shirley MacLaine as I was reading. Once you read this book, Aurora Greenway will be one of those characters that you will always remember, much like an Olive Kitteridge. Dynamic, acerbic,nasty- love or hate her, you will always remember her.
For the first 360 pages, the story focuses on Aurora Greenway and her life and interactions with her daughter, Emma, her maid, Rosie and her many suitors. She was a self centred woman, who needed endless attention. Deep down a very caring individual which she hid with her sharp edged tongue. I would have liked to have seen more between Aurora and Emma. What I remembered most about the movie was their relationship and interaction. There are some laugh out loud moments till we get to the last 47 pages, where life takes a serious tone for Emma. Heartbreaking, realistic and so vividly wrought, I will never forget those last scenes in the hospital.
Emma looking at her husband Flap: “ Somehow that look had won her, though she couldn’t remember, looking at him, what the terms of endearment had been, or how they had been lost for so long.”
Throughout this book, we meet people, real people, who are struggling for acceptance and for a feeling of belonging. People who just need some words of endearment. All of us can relate to that! Lots to think about and talk about after you finish reading. I n fact, I’ll be thinking about this one for a while, digesting all that the author wanted me to take away from this one.
Lucky for me, there are many more books by this author that I can explore. Thanks Julie Grippo for the push to read this one.
A wonderful work of fiction. Tragic yet full of humor. McMurtry’s brilliance are his storytelling and his characters. He makes me laugh, cry and miss his beloved characters eternally. My two favorite McMurtry characters are Augustus McRae from Lonesome Dove and Aurora Greenway from Terms of Endearment. Read and enjoy!
As a journalist all my life, I share a firm commitment to one of our professional axioms: Every writer needs an editor. That certainly was true of Larry McMurtry.
Because McMurtry has been one of my most beloved authors for many decades, I decided to honor our author-reader relationship at news of his death in 2021 by re-reading all of his novels. So far, I’m about a dozen novels through that odyssey and I am reminded, all over again, how uneven McMurtry’s career was as it unfolded in real time. Of course, that assessment is no surprise to McMurtry fans, because he admitted as much himself repeatedly.
What surprises me is that my memories of these novels, nearly all of which I read when they were first published, are sometimes rosier than the novels themselves. I remain a big fan of the 1983 movie version of “Terms of Endearment” and that both colored and obscured my memories of the novel. Because I saw that movie at least four times across the last four decades, the movie eclipsed my memories of the book.
All of that is to say: Thank God for the editing of screenwriter James L. Brooks who took a wildly unbalanced novel and created a crystalline drama of just over two hours! And thank God Brooks didn’t tackle this novel in the era of “limited series,” because that feature film limitation of two hours forced Brooks to axe big chunks of this novel. The result is a far better story than McMurtry originally gave us.
McMurtry admitted in essays over the years that he wrote fast and long and often wound up with sprawling manuscripts that, looking back, were out of control. He believed deeply in the powerful characters he was creating, which is the reason so many million readers love those characters. But a bit like Charles Dickens in his prime, McMurtry would let his characters run on and on and on, as if he could not stop them.
The biggest example I can cite for those familiar with the movie version is Brooks’ creation of the Oscar-winning supporting role of retired astronaut Garrett Breedlove, played by Jack Nicholson. In contrast, McMurtry’s original novel sketches a bewildering array of men pursuing the central character, Aurora, a steady stream that becomes less and less entertaining as their scenes with her drag on through hundreds of pages.
Of course, most fans who recall the film know that Shirley MacLaine also won an Oscar for playing Aurora, the main character in “Terms of Endearment” and later in “The Evening Star.” McMurtry clearly was in love with this grande dame who collects quirky suitors like other wealthy people collect classic cars or fine wines. The film version never would have won its crowning Best Picture Oscar if Brooks had not wrestled the novel into a more concise and believable narrative, and if Brooks had not kicked out a bunch of her suitors.
The novel has far too many scenes that McMurtry clearly thought were delightful comic vignettes of Aurora’s attempts to shape her high-powered suitors into men she might actually enjoy as friends. There’s one long chapter about a dispute with a beau in a fancy restaurant that perhaps McMurtry thought was funny as he wrote it, but that is quite a slog for his readers to finish. I got tired of those one-note scenes, after a while, and grew tired of Aurora herself eventually in the novel. That’s why it took me so many weeks to finally make myself finish the book.
Brooks also had solid instincts in the early 1980s about social values that McMurtry lacked while he was writing in the early 1970s. The biggest example is a lengthy series of comic scenes focusing on “the help,” a small crowd of Black characters led by Aurora’s African American maid. Even as he was writing this novel in the early ‘70s, McMurtry should have sensed that trying to write funny scenes about “the help” was not as charming as it once was in American arts and letters. Again: Thank God that most people “know” this work from the movie and don’t actually go back and read the novel.
Finally, the worst crime in McMurtry’s novel is that he clearly thought the whole world revolved around Aurora from start to finish. Her daughter Emma, played so memorably by Debra Winger in the film, appears throughout the novel. But it really was Brooks’ vision that realized the real dramatic energy here was not in Aurora as a solo act, but lay in her relationship with Emma. McMurtry regards their relationship as such a minor sub-plot that he reaches the end of the main novel, then appends a 50-page novella called “Mrs. Greenway’s Daughter” to sketch more details of Emma’s life. This novella clearly was written in haste, as though he thought this novel might become one of his super-long sagas like the 832-page “Moving On” in which some of these same Houston-based characters appear.
Since “Terms of Endearment” weighs in at a mere 410 pages, it’s as if that 50-page novella really was a summary sketching what another 400 pages would cover if “Terms of Endearment” had run that long. I am thankful that McMurtry added that section because it then gave Brooks the full picture of these characters’ lives that allowed Brooks to refocus the entire story on the relationship between Aurora and Emma and their dysfunctional relationships. In the novel, Emma’s final scenes (I won’t spoil the novel or the movie by describing them further) read like a novelist quickly tying off loose ends in his last few pages. In the movie, as refocused by Brooks, that ending finally makes dramatic sense!
I am now continuing with McMurtry’s next “Houston Series” novel, called “Somebody’s Darling,” so Goodreads friends eventually will be able to find a consistent series of reviews of all of McMurtry’s novels. Perhaps we all will find some value in that. I continue to trust that I will as I continue my odyssey.
I remain a huge fan of his work, even the lesson he struggled to learn about needing a good editor, which Brooks proved to be for the enduring benefit of all of us.
I honestly didn't like it, but it intrigued me enough to want to know how it ends, so I did finish it, and gave it 1 star for that.
I didn't feel like any of the characters were remotely likeable. The women who were married were all in terrible marriages with abuse of some sort. The fact that they never left of their own accord makes me wonder about the author's attitudes towards marrriage and towards women. The men were largely useless - either lazy, abusive, aggressive, or undeveloped and ignored in the writing.
Certainly I appreciated the strength that he tried write into Aurora, but in the end she was shrewish, conniving, and only redeemed herself much too late into the book.
It's going into the charity shop pile - to a certain extent I'm glad I read it, only so I can compare the movie, but otherwise, I'd say give it a miss.
Something I needed - a grasping novel with people in it. Possibly the first time when I identified with the mother rather than her adult daughter (but the mother being quite immature, this does not strike me as very odd...)
I've read several Larry McMurtry novels and I was quite surprised by this tale. I was not expecting the hilarity! I did this one as a (mostly) bedtime audiobook and found myself laughing out loud all the way through. That McMurtry can spin a yarn and this one was absolutely delightful! 👍😄👍
I feel like whipping this book across the room. I disliked it immensely, which I am so surprised about because I loved the movie so much! The book and all of the characters are utterly ridiculous. Over-the-top, not believable at all and annoying. Especially Aurora which was clearly written by a man who knows nothing about women. And the most exasperating thing about the book is how abusive all of the husbands are to their wives - from hitting, trying to stuff them out of windows, to chasing them down in a truck and crashing through buildings into people like a mad-man. And all of that and then the women put up with it all, take the men back and cater to them. There’s a ton of nonsense marital affairs too, from both men and women. Every marriage and relationship was a joke. I know it was written in the 70s but I don’t care. I don’t know what MacMurty was trying to say about marriage and relationships but it was nothing good. Only the last ten pages I half-liked, which is basically what the whole movie covered at the end - but without the Jack Nicholson character. What a disappointment!
Questo romanzo non ha bisogno di presentazioni. Per quei pochi (recuperate immediatamente!) che non lo conoscono racconta la storia di due donne, madre e figlia. La madre Aurora Greenway, è un'affascinante vedova di 49 anni, capricciosa, dispotica e tagliente, sa cucinare bene e ha molti spasimanti. La figlia Emma è, al contrario, pacata e malinconica, sposata ad un uomo che ha perso interesse per lei e litigano spesso. Quando Emma annuncia a sua madre di essere incinta, Aurora da in escandescenza. Un romanzo delicato che parla del rapporto madre-figlia, scritto in maniera eccelsa. Un romanzo lineare, semplice in cui si ride e si piange molto! Stupendo.
June 2016 review In terms of the relationships between men and women, this book feels quite dated. In terms of the relationship between mother (Aurora Greenaway) and daughter (Emma Horton), I suspect that many readers will either identify with, or certainly acknowledge the truthfulness, of the portrayal. Aurora is one of McMurtry's finest characters - in a large stable of fine and memorable characters. She is a monster of selfishness in many ways: vain, idle, narcissistic, mercurial and self-indulgent. In the opening scene of the novel, she harps on at her daughter for being overweight - even though she herself is notably voluptuous - and reacts badly to the news that she is going to be a grandmother. On the cusp of 50, she's not really ready to think of herself as a grandmother - or as a secondary character in life. Comfortably ensconced in her River Oaks mini-mansion, with her Renoir, and her maid Rosie, Aurora has a stable of suitors - all of them rather flawed, but all of them devoted to her. Despite (or because of) her many comforts, though, Aurora is constantly restless. She lives to flirt and stir up trouble. She is one of literature's Queen Bees - behaving outrageously, whilst correcting everyone else's behaviour and grammar along the way.
Against this, daughter Emma is the young wife of a graduate student in English named Flap. They are poor, and their marriage is definitely lacklustre. (Most of the time, Flap would rather go fishing with his father than spend any time time with his wife.) She's made a bad marriage, and her mother is not going to let her forget it. Emma is down-to-earth and kind, but even when she stands up to her mother she never has quite the same strength of character.
Although there are many memorable characters in the novel, Aurora and Emma are at the heart of it. The first two-thirds of the novel is devoted to Aurora's romantic whimsies over a short period of time while the last third is told from Emma's point of view - describing the inevitable decline of her marriage, and finally her death from cancer. (Yes, this is a spoiler . . . but many people will be aware of this plot development from the well-known film.) There's a lot of humour in the first half; the second half is mostly melancholy, and in a few places, just downright sad. Still enjoyable, but set in Houston of the early 1960s, it's starting to feel like a period piece. My daughter and I listened to this on audiotape, and she definitely didn't enjoy it as much as I did.
Reread in October 2024 as part of my latest Larry McMurtry binge, as brought on by reading a biography of him. As ever, I remain fascinated by the character of Aurora and I would like to live in her River Oaks house and with so little guilt about living mostly for pleasure. Somehow the Houston books of McMurtry’s always make me so nostalgic for that place. I also note that I am now 10 years older than Aurora was in this book! Even though I’ve read this book at least three times, starting in my early 20s, I suspect that I will read it again someday. Its characters have become friends.
This is the first novel where I'm having some trouble deciding whether I liked it or not. Like practically everyone else, I loved McMurtry's "Lonesome Dove". So I assumed this would be great as well. And there were aspects of greatness. I love lots of dialogue and this story had it! Also, all the characters were very real and well-developed. But it just didn't grab me as I thought it would. For a fairly short book, it took me forever to read - and that says something, too. I had never seen the movie (still haven't), but I knew the actors who played the parts, so maybe that was a problem? I thought the set up was odd - with so much being about Aurora, and then in the very end it's about the daughter. I kept wanting to know more about Aurora's life. I felt detached from the sad scene at the end. I think I wanted a deeper plot - more than just a "day in the life" type story. Either way, I'm glad I read it, and I want to see the movie now.
So I am having a very hard time reviewing and rating this one. I was all set to give it a 1*. If not for reading it with my friend Linda as a joint read, I'm sure it would have been a DNF for me. Fortunately I kept with it, as I really don't like to abandon books.
This was my first book by Larry McMurtry; I know he is quite a renowned and beloved author. But for me, I honestly felt no closeness to the characters, nor did I get any of the love (with differences of course) between mother and daughter, Aurora and Emma. I felt so much of the scenes were just silly, some to the point of ridiculousness. Flap had no redeeming qualities whatsoever (not that he wasn't a real s*&t in the movie, but I disliked him even more so in the book and I didn't think that would be possible.) Although the character that really bothered me the most was Rosie's husband, Royce.
At the end of the book, with about 40 pages to the conclusion, we arrive at Book Two "Mrs. Greenway's Daughter". This of course, if you know anything about the story, refers to Emma. Specifically This final section is what bumped my review to 2* because it was very much like the movie (a top 5 or even maybe top 3 favorite) even quite a bit of the verbiage is the same dialogue as the movie.
I like to think that I was so disappointed in the book because I think the movie is so close to perfection. But I honestly don't think that is the case. The scenes and the characters in the book are what drove me to not liking the book so much - clearly the director or the person in charge of the screenplay must have felt as I did and just cut all of that right out. I think this is what it must mean when they say a movie is "based on the novel by". Had I read the book first, I can't imagine I would have been inclined to watch the movie. With that said, I am very glad I saw the movie first as I love it so!
Anyway, very glad to have gotten this book off my TBR.
Newsday says that Larry McMurtry can write convincingly from a woman's viewpoint and its so true. He must have known some woman who confided endless details. Very few men can do this. I liked the movie better than the book. There are details about many thing I would prefer not to know but he goes into them.
I heard the story about the man who drove onto the dance floor at a honky tonk but this was a different story. I wonder if it happened more than once.
This story is much too sad. Its one of the saddest things you will ever read.