The Story of a Marriage

by Andrew Sean Greer

A Novel from the Pulitzer Prize-Winning author of LESS
A Today Show Summer Reads Pick
A Washington Post Book of the Year

“Inspired, lyrical . . . Mr. Greer's considerable gifts as a storyteller ascend to the heights of masters like Marilynne Robinson and William Trevor. . . . [He] seamlessly choreographs an intricate narrative that speaks authentically to the longings and desires of his characters.” ― S. Kirk Walsh, The New York Times

"We think we know the ones we love." So Pearlie Cook begins her indirect, and devastating exploration of the mystery at the heart of every relationship--how we can ever truly know another person.

It is 1953 and Pearlie, a dutiful young housewife, finds herself living in the Sunset District in San Francisco, caring not only for her husband's fragile health, but also for her son, who is afflicted with polio. Then, one Saturday morning, a stranger appears on her doorstep, and everything changes. Lyrical, and surprising, The Story of a Marriage is, in the words of Khaled Housseini, "a book about love, and it is a marvel to watch Greer probe the mysteries of love to such devastating effect."

Genres: Fiction, Historical Fiction, Book Club, Marriage, LGBT, The United States Of America, Literary Fiction

195 pages, Paperback

First published April 29, 2008

About the author

Andrew Sean Greer (born 1970) is an American novelist and short story writer.

He is the bestselling author of The Story of a Marriage, which The New York Times has called an “inspired, lyrical novel,” and The Confessions of Max Tivoli, which was named one of the best books of 2004 by the San Francisco Chronicle and received a California Book Award.

The child of two scientists, Greer studied writing with Robert Coover and Edmund White at Brown University, where he was the commencement speaker at his own graduation, where his unrehearsed remarks, critiquing Brown's admissions policies, caused a semi-riot. After years in New York working as a chauffeur, theater tech, television extra and unsuccessful writer, he moved to Missoula, Montana, where he received his Master of Fine Arts from The University of Montana, from where he soon moved to Seattle and two years later to San Francisco where he now lives. He is currently a fellow at the New York Public Library Cullman Center. He is an identical twin.

While in San Francisco, he began to publish in magazines before releasing a collection of his stories, How It Was for Me. His stories have appeared in Esquire, The Paris Review, The New Yorker and other national publications, and have been anthologized most recently in The Book of Other People, and The PEN/ O. Henry Prize Stories 2009. His first novel, The Path of Minor Planets, was published in 2001.

Reviews

[Daniel · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read this novel after finishing Greer's "The Confessions of Max Tivoli," knowing nothing about the storyline. Having been utterly ignorant of the various plot twists, I was able to enjoy "Marriage" to the fullest. Yes, it's lyrical and poetic, as Greer is one of the most naturally gifted writers I've come across in years, but many literary novels get lost in this emphasis on stylistic narrative and character development, failing to realize that most readers come to fiction to simply be entertained by a good story. Greer avoids this elitist trap, and throws some revelatory moments at the reader that literally made me gasp aloud several times in public. Yeah, I was that guy in the cafe, voicing his thoughts to bound paper. So it goes.

Don't read anything about the plot before picking up the book, not even the back cover if you can help it. In a culture in which movie trailers tell you the whole story before you see the films and book reviews dictate how you should feel about each book before turning to page one, try to go into this one like you're fumbling for a lightswitch in the dark. Wait til you see what's sitting in the room with you when the lights go on.

At its core, "Marriage" is about the way we live our lives with others, never seeing those people for who they truly are, all along being misunderstood ourselves. But that's just a theme, and themes say nothing about a book really. Sorry, it's a tough book to rave about because ultimately it comes down to my saying, Just trust me. And if you're like me, you don't trust anyone who says Trust me. It's a tangle of thorns we have here.

[Nood-Lesse · Rating 4 out of 5]

Gli incipit di Andrew Sean Greer sono ruffiani? Se così è pazienza, mi piacciono:

Crediamo tutti di conoscere la persona che amiamo

Dopo il secondo romanzo letto con soddisfazione, ho voluto sapere in che anno fosse nato uno che scrive "la gente ha un’immagine romantica e sbagliata degli anni ’50".

Andrew Sean Greer (Washington, 5 novembre 1970) è uno scrittore statunitense, vincitore del Premio Pulitzer per la narrativa nel 2018 con il romanzo Less. (From WIKIPEDIA)

Ah ecco, non sono l’unico ad apprezzarlo, alla Columbia University è piaciuto particolarmente “Less” che trasferisco subito nella mia lista dei desideri. “Le confessioni di Max Tivoli” erano state ambientate ottimamente nei ’30, “La storia di un matrimonio” inizia nell’anno 1953 ed è raccontata da una donna di colore minuta che ha sposato un uomo bello, tormentato e disertore. Il protagonista della storia è proprio il loro matrimonio che acquista sembianze mutevoli a seconda degli stati d’animo dei due coniugi. L’incipit potrebbe essere rivoltato in una serie di varianti

Crediamo tutti di conoscere ciò che ci lega alla persona che amiamo
Crediamo tutti di conoscere ciò che lega la persona che amiamo a noi
Crediamo tutti di conoscere noi stessi, finché un giorno non ci scopriamo diversi

Se perdonerete qualche forzatura nella trama, vi porterete a casa una serie di splendidi aforismi. Se gli aforismi non vi interessano e prediligete trama e ordito, Greer non credo abbia da vendervi il tessuto che state cercando. Siccome a me le trame interessano relativamente e mi piacciono le similitudini riuscite, concludo con una citazione a tema

Allora vedevo il matrimonio come la doccia di un albergo: l’acqua scende alla temperatura giusta, ma poi dall’altra parte del muro qualcuno apre il rubinetto e ti trafigge l’acqua gelata, allora la regoli e senti uno strillo di dolore, e così via finché non si raggiunge un tiepido compromesso

Colonna Sonora
Good As I've Been To You
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JZM8g...

[Phrynne · Rating 5 out of 5]

Set in San Fransico in 1953, this book deals with so many serious social issues so carefully and so beautifully. This was not a good time to be black or gay in America. Imagine being both. And so much memorable history - the Korean war, McCarthyism, Polio, milk bottles delivered to your doorstep, and much more.

We meet Pearlie and her husband, Holland. Their small son suffers from Polio and walks with calipers on his legs. Thank goodness there was a solution to this awful disease. Pearlie cares for them both, and always tries to do the right thing for Holland who has never been the same since the war. Then a man suddenly appears who gives her grave doubts about the future of her marriage, and she seriously considers escaping the confines of her life.

I love the way this author writes. Every word is precious. The ending is delightful and exactly what I wanted. Perfect. Five stars.

[Amaranta · Rating 3 out of 5]

“Non sarei stata sola unicamente nel presente, sarei stata sola anche nel passato, nei ricordi “
Questo libro è la storia di un amore, di una strana amicizia che lega un uomo arrivato dal nulla ad una donna lontanissima da lui, di una guerra che dilania le famiglie, il paese, e di come tutto questo si ingarbugli in una matassa informe per poi pian piano sciogliersi alla fine.
Confesso di aver provato un moto di stizza in alcune pagine, quando sarebbe bastata una sola parola a fermare un meccanismo di autodistruzione curioso e assurdo. Ma è la logica del romanzo e a quella bisogna sottostare.
Una donna e la sua forza, tale da rinunciare alla cosa più importante della sua vita, l’amore, per amore. Potremmo davvero tutti fare un sacrificio così in silenzio, senza una lacrima, senza dire una parola e svegliarsi una mattina con la consapevolezza che ci sarà solo il silenzio, il vuoto e che la propria vita finora è stata solo una farsa, con la certezza di non aver capito nulla del cuore che ci è stato accanto fino a quel momento? Potremmo?
“Crediamo tutti di conoscere la persona che amiamo, e anche se non dovremmo stupirci quando scopriamo che non è vero, ci si spezza il cuore lo stesso. E' la scoperta più difficile, non tanto sull'altro, quanto su noi stessi. Vedere che la nostra vita è una nostra invenzione; l'abbiamo scritta noi, e ci abbiamo creduto.” .
Un libro ben scritto, con colpi di scena che destabilizzano il lettore in una narrazione piana e serena, che lo disorientano e poi lo riportano nelle acque tranquille di un tran tran quotidiano fatto di baci del buongiorno, di saluti della buonanotte, di un bicchiere col ghiaccio che tintinna, di un uomo e di una donna a passeggio mentre il marito è a lavoro.
Una sola parola. E una nuvola di fumo che potrebbe dissolversi.
“Che vuoto non avere più segreti. Ti scuoti e non fai nessun rumore. Sei senza scheletro, come un anemone di mare”

[Edan · Rating 2 out of 5]

Taking this to Kauai...

...So I took this on my trip because the plot intrigued me, and because I've been curious about Andrew Sean Greer's work for a long time, and, well, because its shortness pleased me. Weight is always a factor when choosing beach reading, isn't it?

Some of the prose here is lovely, although most of the time it strains to be lovely, making it less so. Greer likes to repeat phrases throughout the novel, such as, "We think we know the ones we love..." and usually these refrains sounded cheesy and obvious to me. It feels like Greer was nervous his readers wouldn't get the themes of the book, so he felt the need to announce them on every other page, all the while playing the violin and spraying lavender-gardenia-memory perfume in my face.

The weirdest thing about this book is that the narrator is a black woman talking about her marriage during the 1950s--but she doesn't reveal herself as a person of color until page 48. I have the feeling that Greer wanted to trick all of us readers who just assume whiteness on characters (how dare I!), and then say, "Aha! Gotcha!" It felt like trickery because there are many times in the first 47 pages that she would mention her race, or someone else's, and doesn't. For instance, when an important character first comes to her door, she mentions that he's blonde, not that he is white. Come on! A black woman in the 1950s opens her door and doesn't see race? I don't buy it, and it seems to me a failure in authentic perspective.

Greer also has a habit of being cryptic in scene and then making me wait to figure out what's going on. This didn't produce narrative drive, it just made me put the book down and reapply my sunscreen. Let's just say I didn't get sunburned until I started reading other books that caught my attention and kept it there.

Overall, the book was an easy read and often the passages about San Francisco in that era were fun, but I didn't understand the narrator's conflict and her motivations. And I even saw the ending coming...and that NEVER happens to me.

[sfogliarsi · Rating 3 out of 5]

"Non so che cosa unisca le parti dell'atomo, ma a legare gli esseri umani sembra sia il dolore."
Pearlie si innamora del marito, Holland, entrambe le volte che lo incontra, il loro è un amore a prima vista e il matrimonio avviene in un battibaleno. Impossibile non innamorarsene vista la sua bellezza. Tutto succede così rapidamente, nel 1953 in seguito alla guerra… ma c’è un perché, un segreto nascosto che Pearlie scopre grazie ad una terza figura e non direttamente dal marito. Iniziano così i mille interrogativi: Si conosce davvero la persona che si ama? La risposta dovrebbe essere sì, ma non sempre è così, proprio come in questo caso. La loro sembrava una vita normale, ma in realtà nulla si rivela normale.
Un libro strano e particolare, oltre che scorrevole. Un libro conosciuto che si vede raramente sul bookstagram, ma in realtà è proprio grazie al #bookstagram che l’ho scoperto, sentendone parlare in positivo. Una cosa è sicura, non sapevo cosa trovavo tra le pagine ma non mi aspettavo quello che ho trovato. Proprio per questo, nonostante sia un libro ricco di informazioni e di riflessioni sull’uomo, sull’amore, sul rapporto di coppia e sul legame genitori-figli, in realtà devo dire che mi ha deluso.

[Ebony Haight · Rating 1 out of 5]

I expected to love this book. When it came out I was giddy and purchased it from my local bookstore with out hesitation. Then I began reading it and found myself stumbling over the prose, which seemed to be imagining itself as more beautiful, more poetic than it actually was. And I was confused by the narrator, not in a pleasant way but more in a sort of, really... what's happening here? kind of way. This from someone who typically enjoys the slow reveal, Never Let me Go being a great example. Ultimately, the plot was just weird; I found it implausible and thus struggled to give in to the characters and their choices/ actions. There are certainly some descriptive gems in here, and I enjoyed reading about mid-century San Francisco. But on the whole the book just does not deliver.

[Teresa · Rating 4 out of 5]

Política
Guerra
Racismo
Homossexualidade
Casamento
Maternidade
e, claro, o Amor
são os ingredientes principais com que o autor constrói uma bonita história sobre o mistério que é cada ser humano; para os outros e para si próprio.

"Julgamos conhecer aqueles que amamos (...)
Pensamos que os conhecemos. Pensamos que os amamos. Mas o que amamos acaba por revelar-se uma tradução pobre, uma tradução que nós próprios construímos, numa língua que praticamente não conhecemos."

[Barbaraw - su anobii aussi · Rating 3 out of 5]

Mi sento di raccomandarlo, intanto perché sorprende: il racconto prende dei tornanti inaspettati ed i personaggi si svelano strada facendo; non sappiamo "tutto subito" di loro ma li scopriamo.
San Francisco anni '5o, e l'atmosfera è già nelle prime pagine, palpabile.
Il mistero delle relazioni umane rimane, Greer non pretende di conoscerlo o di svelarcelo, ce lo racconta e si sgomenta, assieme a noi.

[Silvia · Rating 4 out of 5]

3,5 per un'esperienza di lettura che non lascia indifferenti, la prosa molto controllata e poetica, anche se ha volte l'autore mi ha dato l'impressione di farsi gioco del lettore, e questa non è una bella sensazione. Un viaggio che comunque merita nel non detto delle relazioni umane.

[Lidia · Rating 4 out of 5]

"Todos creemos conocer a quienes amamos y, aunque no debería sorprendernos descubrir que no es así, ese descubrimiento siempre nos rompe el corazón"
"Qué vacío sientes al quedarte sin secretos; te mueves, pero no suena nada"
"Ésta es una historia de guerra, pero no debería haberlo sido. Empezó como una historia de amor, la historia de un matrimonio, pero la guerra se ha adherido a ella, igual que polvo de vidrio"

Me ha encantado. Bendita Miss Brandon.

[Deidre · Rating 5 out of 5]

Andrew Sean Greer. The Story of a Marriage. New York: Picador, 2008.


I was attracted to this paperback book because of its cover. I read a couple of pages and the read was decent so I bought it. The entire book was a gentle surprise. I will try another book of his.

(41) “It is the hardest kind of knowledge, not just about another but about ourselves. To see our lives as a fiction we have written and believed. Silence and lies. The sensation I felt that evening – that I did not know my Holland [husband:], did not know myself, that it was perhaps impossible to know a single soul on earth – it was a fearful loneliness.”

(59) “The moment, like the smallest gear of a hidden machine, that set our lives in motion.”

(87) “How do you make someone love you? For the very young, there can be nothing harder in the world. You may try as hard as you like: place yourself beside them, cook their favorite food, bring them wine or sing the love songs that you know will move them. They will not move them. Nothing will move them. You will waste days interpreting the simple banalities of a phone call; months staring at their soft lips as they talk; you will waste years watching a body sitting in a chair and willing every muscle to take you across the room and do a simple thing, say a simple word, make them love, and you will not do it; you will waste long nights wondering how they cannot feel this – the urge to embrace, the snowmelt in the heart when you are near them – how they can sit in that chair, or speak with those lips, or make a call and mean nothing by it, hide nothing in their hearts. Or perhaps what they hide is not what you want to see. Because surely they love someone. It simply isn’t you.”

(137) “… for we had each done a startling thing, dodged time for an instant – which is the only definition of happiness I know.”

(154) “I have said that pain reveals things, and that is sometimes what it takes to break our solitude. To open, briefly, that small window, that view out of ourselves: the life of someone else.”

(171) “It’s the loss we don’t speak of, losing a friend forever. We call it life; we call it time passing. But it is a kind of heartbreak, like any other.”

When her kids were little, Carol wondered what her kids would pick from their childhood to remember. I too wondered about that when I had children. Certainly some of the memories would match. But I have found that most of the happenings I orchestrated and hoped they would remember, weren’t. They recall random happenings, things I can’t find in my memories. (172)


(175-176)
As Pearlie Cook thinks about her husband leaving her and their son, Walter (Sonny) for a man (Buzz), she contemplates the magnitude of it.

“I would never meet another man who’d met my mother, who knew her untamable hair, her sharp Kentucky accent, creaked with fury. She was dead now, and no man could ever know her again. That would be missing. I’d never know anyone, anywhere, who’d watched me weeping with rage and lack of sleep in those first months after Sonny was born, or seen his first steps, or listened to him tell his nonsense stories. He was a boy now. No one could ever again know him as a baby. That would be missing, too. I wouldn’t just be alone in the present; I would be alone in my past as well, in my memories…I would be like a traveler from a distant country that no one had ever been to, nor ever heard of, an immigrant from that vanished land” my youth.”

(180)
”I was prepared for solitude – even for freedom – but I was not prepared for this: the abandonment.”

Our actions, our choices, look different to those who are not us. Pearlie finally recognized the truth about her marriage – that her husband loved her for the person she was. (190)

[Celeste Corrêa · Rating 4 out of 5]

Detestei o Andrew Sean Greer de «Less», gostei muito do Andrew Sean Greer de «A História de um Casamento», que foi para mim uma reconciliação com o autor.

Ambientado nos Estados Unidos dos anos 50, «começou como uma história de amor, a história de um casamento, mas a guerra entranhou-se nela, por todos os lados, como estilhaços de vidro. Não é uma história normal sobre homens que entraram em batalhas, mas sobre aqueles que não foram à guerra (..) os que permitiram que um engano os afastasse dos seus deveres, os que sabiam e que o esconderam, os que fizeram frente à situação e se recusaram a ir; (..) É a história desses homens, e a de uma mulher, à janela, incapaz de fazer outra coisa, para além de observar.»

Esta é uma história de racismo, homossexualidade, maternidade, amor e de muitos mundos para múltiplas escolhas e dúvidas.
Esta é uma história de uma mulher que escondeu o seu homem, e o objector de consciência que o encontrou.
Esta é uma história de perguntas e de ses.
«Pensamos que conhecemos, aqueles que amamos; porque não conseguimos adivinhar o que sentem?»
«Uma manhã, acordamos. Ao nosso lado, na cama, aquele corpo familiar adormecido: uma espécie nova de estranho.»

Silêncios e mentiras. Não conhecermos os nossos maridos é também não nos conhecermos a nós próprias – é uma solidão terrível.

Foi o que aconteceu à narradora, Pearlie Cook.

[Ana · Rating 4 out of 5]

“Julgamos conhecer aqueles que amamos e, apesar de não devermos ficar surpreendidos por descobrirmos que não conhecemos, isso não deixa de nos destroçar o coração. É o mais doloroso tipo de conhecimento, não só acerca do outro, mas também de nós mesmos. Vermos as nossas vidas como uma ficção que escrevemos e na qual acreditámos.” (pág. 47)

Não vai ser fácil escrever esta opinião sem dar a conhecer demasiado da história que compõe esta “história de um casamento”. Estamos em 1953, na cidade de São Francisco, costa do Pacífico. Pearlie está casada com Holland, um homem mesmo muito bonito, têm um filho e vivem numa casinha junto ao mar. Ele trabalha, ela é dona de casa e todos os dias, sem exceção, ele dá-lhe um beijo antes de sair de casa e outro quando regressa do trabalho enquanto Pearlie tenta protegê-lo das amarguras e vicissitudes do mundo fazendo, com uma tesoura, censura às notícias menos boas do jornal. Porém, ninguém poderá fazer o mesmo por ela quando uma bomba, aparentemente inofensiva, aterra na soleira da sua porta.
Essa bomba não só ameaça destruir os alicerces que sustentavam a rotina e o equilíbrio da existência tranquila de Pearlie. Também traz consigo o elemento vital para que a narrativa agite e nos faça agarrar-nos ainda mais a ela. Aconteceu isso comigo e, calculo, com todos os leitores. Contudo, e falando da minha experiência de leitura, esse abanão que a referida bomba provocou no ritmo da narrativa não foi complementado com aquilo que sempre quero encontrar numa obra – personagens com as quais crio laços, personagens que mexem comigo, que me fazem adorá-las, detestá-las, sentir raiva, piedade, ternura, dor, enfim, personagens que são o suporte vital da trama, que a fazem avançar ou recuar, que lhe dão a cor necessária para que a leitura seja memorável.

Não fui capaz de criar laços significativos com nenhuma das personagens, nem mesmo com Pearlie, a protagonista. Achei que ela se rendeu demasiado cedo, que não lutou pelo que era seu, por tudo aquilo que sempre quis que fosse seu. Baixou os braços, permitiu-se acreditar nas palavras de um desconhecido e deixou que este a manobrasse a ela e aos outros a seu bel-prazer. É certo que Pearlie é uma mulher algo sofrida, muito consciente da sua “diminuta” importância numa sociedade envolvida numa caça às bruxas sem precedentes, onde impera a hipocrisia e uma busca implacável que recorda os tempos da Inquisição. Mas, mesmo assim, eu (e reitero, eu) precisava que ela tivesse mais amor-próprio, mais atitude, mais orgulho.

Lendo aquilo que escrevi até ao momento, pode parecer que ler A história de um casamento foi uma experiência algo dececionante. Mas não o foi. A escrita e o estilo do autor são francamente bons, fartei-me de sublinhar, destacar passagens com as quais me identifiquei e a contextualização histórica revela conhecimentos notáveis de uma época recém-saída de um conflito mundial e que pareceu nada retirar da loucura e megalomania que estiveram por detrás da Segunda Grande Guerra. O autor conseguiu ainda fazer-me sentir em São Francisco, visualizar os espaços desta cidade icónica e sentir muito de perto a segregação racial, política, social e ideológica. Todos estes elementos engrandeceram a narrativa, tornaram-na mais rica, mas não impediram que eu a sentisse algo incompleta, pois as personagens não estiveram à altura dessa riqueza estilística e epocal. Não me agradou a sensação que nunca me abandonou e que sempre me sussurrava que Pearlie, Holland, Buzz ou Alice eram um acessório ao enredo, que a sua presença no desenrolar da história serviu “apenas” para dar visibilidade aos temas que o autor queria abordar. Não sei se me estou a explicar da melhor forma, também não sei se concordas comigo, Paula, (talvez não), mas é essa primazia dada aos temas em detrimento das personagens que, ainda agora, ao escrever este texto, me impossibilita dar a esta leitura uma nota superior a um 8.

Opinião completa em:
http://osabordosmeuslivros.blogspot.c...

[Amber · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book was really a 3.7 or so. I think Greer writes so beautifully and I might read everything he has written or will write. BUT, (I hate to use the capital but) this book was kind of slow and I felt like many times things weren't said and you had to read between the lines. I think I caught most of them, but a few things were lost on me. This is a story of a marriage with a interesting detour in the road. Other reviewers have said not to read any reviews beforehand and I kind of agree because you don't want any spoilers to ruin anything.

[Saleh MoonWalker · Rating 3 out of 5]

Onvan : The Story of a Marriage - Nevisande : Andrew Sean Greer - ISBN : 374108668 - ISBN13 : 9780374108663 - Dar 208 Safhe - Saal e Chap : 2008

[Laurie Neighbors · Rating 2 out of 5]

Surely Andrew Sean Greer could put his talents to better use than to inhabit the presumptive position of narrating from the perspective of a Black woman. I wanted to love this book, but I just got more and more irritated with every page. My disbelief was not the least bit suspended as Greer wrote Pearlie up into a dull, unquestioning, easy to manipulate, passive Black housewife who was tricked time and time again by a manipulative, rich, white, gay male wizard. I kept asking myself if I'd be responding to the novel differently if a woman of color had written it, but I just couldn't imagine that the story and characterization could even exist if a white man hadn't written it.

Initially, I picked up the novel because I'd read in reviews that the setting was the Sunset District of SF in the 1950s, and I was interested in the historical detail of the city in which I live. There's lots of it, for sure, but the novel felt self-conscious in this regard. I imagined ASG with lists of household items (razor dispensers in medicine cabinets) and long-gone locales (Playland at the Beach) and fashionable attire (foldable hats) that he wanted to weave into his story (all of them interesting, for sure), and I also felt the trudging of his heavy hand as he attempted to fit those researched details into his plot in a seamless fashion.

That said, I kept turning the pages and read the novel quickly and eagerly so that I could see how the train wreck came out. The novel is readable, a bit mysterious, and seems to have its heart in the right place. But I definitely wouldn't recommend it to my friends without a lot of racial analysis by way of a major caveat.

[Anna [Floanne] · Rating 4 out of 5]

Crediamo tutti di conoscere la persona che amiamo, e anche se non dovremmo stupirci quando scopriamo che non è vero, ci si spezza il cuore lo stesso. È la scoperta più difficile, non tanto sull’altro, quanto su noi stessi. Vedere che la nostra vita è una nostra invenzione; l’abbiamo scritta noi, e ci abbiamo creduto.

Un libro che mi ha spiazzato. Non accade molto - a livello di trama - ma è un romanzo che mette in discussione quanto a fondo si conoscano realmente le persone a noi più vicine. Non voglio aggiungere altro, perché il rischio di spoiler è altissimo, visto che le sorprese si susseguono, ma a me è piaciuto.

[Diane · Rating 1 out of 5]

too much poetry about nothing. The book makes you feel stupid by not even realizing the characters are coloured until halfway through the book. The ending is poor and in my book club there was confusion on what had even actually happened. The entire premise is boring and yes the moral of the story is if you don't talk to your husband you will never know him and he will never know you. Waste of time. Not entertaining. it's one of those english lit books you could pick apart for months and get no where.

[Sofía Jimenez · Rating 4 out of 5]

Compre este libro porque su sinopsis me pareció interesante, la historia de un matrimonio que se ve interrumpida por una persona ajena a ambos, sin embargo, jamás me imagine el trasfondo de estas palabras, es increíble como una historia puede hacerte sentir tanto, una historia que se lee muy rápido pero que te hace pensar mucho.
Me hubiera gustado que hubiera más dialogo entre el matrimonio pero puede que en base al año en que se lleva a cabo esta historia sea bastante acertado.
Una historia que habla sobre la guerra, sobre el amor, cuando se debe dejar ir y cuando es inevitable que se quede, habla sobre cómo las personas de color eran expulsadas hasta la orilla del mar, como no conocemos a quienes amamos.

[Suanne Laqueur · Rating 5 out of 5]

Wow. Wow wow wow. Gorgeous. If you were underwhelmed by “Less,” give this one a try.

[Deb · Rating 3 out of 5]

What do we really know about the people we love? What do we really know about love?

This book challenges this question to its very core. Let's go ahead and herald this author for his skilled writing capabilities. That goes without saying. His talent is true but what I want to commend most on is ability to weave a story that is both believable and dramatic. This story attacked me emotionally. It stirred anger and astonishment toward the audacity of these characters and that is a proven sign in my opinion of a good writer. If you've got me up in arms about people who are just a figment of the imagination, you've done your job. But maybe that's not why I was so bothered by this book. I believe the true reason lies within the fact that although this is fiction, it's a story about people we know.. People we've heard about.. Rumors or maybe all of our worst fears, to wake up next to a person whom you've known all your life only to realize, how well do I know this stranger? And what secrets of mine do they really know about me? And is this really love or have they known love before me? Is love a feeling, joyful that you can't live without? Or is love the life that you sacrifice and live in each day. These are the questions surrounding the triangle of Holland, Pearlie and Buzz.

Pearlie thought this was her life. This was her marriage until one day a man she never even knew existed, Buzz, walks up to her door and causes her to question everything she thought she knew. Think I just gave you a spoiler? You can never guess this tale. You must read.

Without spoiling, I'll say these three statements #1 to entice you in and #2 to get them off my chest.
Pearlie was a damn fool!
Buzz had some damn nerve!
Holland, he silently saw it all, why didn't he give a damn?

I'm giving it 3 stars because it was good, I'll give it that but I can't give 5 to a book that pissed me off. Lol
Recommend it? Why not.
I came I saw I conquered. Next book.

[Dawn · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book pretty much sums up every poetic mystery to life that I have ever had (and also continues to run through my life as a constant theme.)

Who are we? How do the choices that we make affect the rest of our lives? Fate.... and How could we TRULY EVER know the family + friends that we love?

Most of the time we think that we "know" our husbands, wives, girlfriends, parents....But we can't possibly, and never will....everyone has their secrets - and it's interesting to recognize the "facade" that everyone puts on going through their daily lives - when so much more monumental, deeper thoughts and actions and desires run through our supposed "personality" + being.

"We think we know the ones we love....." This story is about a woman and her husband in 1953 and the development of a huge change in their lives brought on by a stange man that comes to their door one day. I can't elaborate too much on the story line because I don't want to give anything away - there are twists + turns that you won't see coming through each chapter - but the main theme remains the same.

And now that I have a child of my own - the mystery lives on - we think that we know our PARENTS, but what they did in their youth is so completely different from what we know about them as adults. And our children will think the same about us....

Anyway - this book was a "reader's copy" given to me by a friend who works in publishing at FSG (Macmillan)....so I don't know when it'll actually be available to the public in a store. It came highly recommended by him and I can see why...the story and the poetry of the words filled w/ metaphors telling this woman's story really struck a chord w/ me and my thoughts about life and our relationships throughout it.

[Nancy · Rating 5 out of 5]

First, I will start at the very end. The last three pages of this book were impeccably written - they were gut wrenching, heartbreaking and raw; they resonated deeply because like the book’s antagonist, I was once painfully in love with someone - or so I thought - for many years and was left with missed opportunities, unanswered questions, and unreciprocated feelings.

It’s always hard for me to write a review without spoilers, but here goes. This is a story about an unconventional love triangle. The first big reveal is very early in the book. It was such a gripping read because Greer’s prose is so flawless that I was hooked by page 3. I rarely find myself rereading sentences and paragraphs, but this book took me much longer to finish because I wanted to truly understand the three main character’s intentions so I had to go back and reread entire sections. But I didn’t mind. This read was worth every second.

I cared deeply about these characters. They are all flawed, but so are we. No one lives their lives perfectly without making many mistakes. It’s tough to know who to root for by the end of the story. I challenge anyone to finish this book feeling that the outcome leading up to those last three pages was flat-out satisfying. It wasn’t for me, but I still loved the book. There are alway three outcomes in a love triangle and I believe Greer’s intention was to leave the reader contemplating the conclusion. I can’t recommend this beautiful novel enough!

[Mickdemaria · Rating 2 out of 5]

Una storia che avrebbe potuto suscitare qualche interesse annegata in una prosa intimista ma scipita, Andrew Sean Greer si scrive addosso dispensando colpi di scena come un settenne che lancia petardi, più irritante che sorprendente, un monologo interiore lungo decenni che porta alla sorprendente epifania che la vita è piena di sfumature e noi dobbiamo solo convivere con le gioie e i dolori che ci capitano, sorridere in modo profondo e guardare verso il tramonto...
Bene Andrew Sean Greer, messaggio ricevuto. Grazie e a mai più rileggerci.
Voto: 4,5

[Jennifer · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book is the story of a woman in the 1950s whose life is upended when she discovers that she might not know the truth about her husband's life. As a reader, you also find that you don't know the truth about any of the characters in this book. No one is quite as they seem.

I found the descriptions of wartime and postwar America far more interesting than the actual plot. The depiction of repression and racism were also fascinating.

[Mónica · Rating 4 out of 5]

4,5* Me ha encantado. Una historia en apariencia sencilla que al final deja un poso.
¿Realmente conocemos (como creemos) a las personas que amamos?
Ahí queda eso.

[Oscar · Rating 5 out of 5]

Andrew Sean Greer es un gran escritor, sutil, sencillo, delicado, contenido y evocador. Si me emocionó y sorprendió con su novela 'Las confesiones de Max Tivoli', con 'Historia de un matrimonio' lo ha vuelto a conseguir. Después de leer este libro, pienso en las injusticias que se cometen con los Pulitzer, porque parece que para conseguirlo se ha de escribir un tocho de cientos de páginas contando la historia norteamericana, mejor si hablas de dinastías familiares a lo largo del tiempo. Pero Greer ha conseguido contarnos una historia durante la posguerra, la guerra de Corea y la segregación racial, de manera simple y profunda, en tan solo doscientas páginas.

Pearlie Cook, en primera persona, nos cuenta su relación con su marido Holland, delicado de salud tras su regreso de la guerra. Parece que lleva una vida feliz y armoniosa, hasta que alguien llama a su puerta. Pero mejor que nos cuente Pearlie:

"[...] Esta es una historia de guerra, pero no debería haberlo sido. Empezó como una historia de amor, la historia de un matrimonio, pero la guerra se ha adherido a ella, igual que el polvo de vidrio. No es el clásico relato de hombres en el frente, sino de quienes no fueron a luchar. Los cobardes y fugitivos; los que se ampararon en un error para eludir su deber, los que se escondieron, los que se negaron abiertamente; incluso es la historia de aquéllos que aún eran muy niños para saber que un día también huirían de su propio país [...] La historia de estos hombres y de una mujer que no podía hacer más que mirar por una ventana."

Es una historia hermosa y perfecta, con varios giros y sorpresas durante la narración, que se devora y disfruta como pocas veces he hecho.

[metempsicoso · Rating 3 out of 5]

Il grande protagonista di questo libro è il silenzio. Enorme, invalicabile e ingestibile silenzio. Alimentato quotidianamente, quasi fosse un rituale, da piccoli gesti di amore puro ma sordo, senza che nessuno realizzi di star sfamando un buco nero. Ad un certo punto il nulla ha preso forma: si è erto come un muro, poi si è costruito una stanza, un corridoio, una prigione. È una presenza tangibile, affianca gli uomini e la donna le cui vicende vengono raccontate e viene dosato con perizia da farmacista dall'autore nel suo stile. A mandare avanti la narrazione è il non detto, quello che i personaggi non si dicono e quello che Greer "dimentica" di dire al lettore. La vicenda si svela poco alla volta, come un amante. E come un amante catalizza la tua attenzione, dandoti accesso a parti di sé che fino a quel momento ti aveva celato. A tratti il cuore ti si agita nel petto; devi ricordarti che quello tra le mani non è un giallo. O forse lo è? Come si dovrebbe chiamare altrimenti un'indagine dolorosa tra le assurdità dell'amore, la ricerca di un colpevole - esiste poi un colpevole? - e il bisogno di trovare una ragione, una causa, a cui aggrapparsi? A lume di luna, quando tutto tace, si collegano i punti sospesi e così facendo si chiudono le ferite. Si chiudono poi davvero? Nelle pagine più riuscite, mi è sembrato di ritrovare Cunningham: una versione diluita ma forse più godibile. A questo autore sono arrivato, dopo una serie di recensioni sconsolate su "Less" (Premio Pulitzer 2018), perché nell'arco di due giorni mi è stato consigliato da due persone diverse.

[Commento vecchio, scritto per un altro social, di cui sono andato in cerca dopo aver concluso Less - lo condivido qui solo per giustificare questa fatica e averlo "a portata di mano" in futuro]

[Xenja · Rating 2 out of 5]

La quarta di copertina ci invoglia magnificando grandi colpi di scena, ma io non posso resistere: questa storia è talmente assurda e inverosimile che l’unico stupore che desta è il suo successo.
Una ragazza povera, di colore, sposa dopo alcune peripezie di guerra il suo primo e unico amore, nero anche lui. I due si sistemano modestamente in una graziosa casetta, hanno un bambino, sono felici. Finché un bel giorno bussa alla porta un uomo bianco, ricco e affascinante: sostiene di essere il grande amore del marito; offre alla ragazza tanti soldi perché si metta da parte e lasci libero il marito di fuggire con lui. Lei, dopo averci riflettuto, con il cuore spezzato, accetta. Non le passa neanche per la testa di chiedere al marito se è vero, se è omosessuale, se vuole davvero fuggire con quell’uomo. Ma è possibile essere più imbecilli? Alla fine, nel giorno prefissato per la fuga dei due uomini… non accade un bel nulla. Il marito resta in famiglia e l’amante scompare. La coppia vive tranquilla e serena fino alla vecchiaia, e solo una quarantina d’anni dopo quell’episodio, del quale non hanno mai parlato, a lui salta in mente di scusarsi perché in quel giorno lontano non è fuggito con l’amante, impedendole così di diventare ricca, come certo lei desiderava; e lei risponde: ma no, guarda che io preferivo tenermi mio marito e restare povera. Oh! Colpo di scena! Stupore e meraviglia! E il leit-motiv che percorre tutto il romanzo (Crediamo di conoscere una persona, la persona con cui viviamo, ma non è vero) diventa davvero ridicolo: per forza, se a quella persona non parliamo mai!
L’ambientazione è ricca e suggestiva, l’atmosfera misteriosa e cupa, lo stile ha un certo fascino ipnotico, ma… la storia, santo cielo, Greer, la storia non sta proprio in piedi!