This is the second book I've read by David Nicholls, an English writer, whose novels appeal mostly to women I would think and me. I loved his first novel, ONE DAY, lovely written, a funny, though tragic romance, filled with both laughter and eventually tears. So when I saw US on the Smith Library's new fiction book shelf, I scooped it up, prepared for another good read. And I wasn't wrong though I liked ONE DAY better. Start with it.
No suspense because of the opening page of the novel. Our narrator, Douglas Petersen is awakened in the middle of the night by Connie, his wife, thinking she's heard a burglar. But then he listens more closely to what she is, saying: "I think our marriage has run its course, Douglas, I think I want to leave you.
So begins Douglas' ultimately futile attempt to save his marriage. It takes close to 400 pages to find this out, however, as Douglas alternates between the present and his hopes to save his marriage, with flashbacks to how he met Connie, how they fell in love, the first years of their marriage, the death of their first child during child birth, the depression that followed, how Douglas saved Connie's life, then the birth of a son Albie, nicknamed Egg. I will stop here with Albie's birth because a large section of the novel is the tension between Donald and his son. Albie is your typical clueless youth, self centered, rebellious, but smart enough to know that he does not want to be what his father wants him to be and he especially does not to be like his father, a scientist with a PHD, somewhat nerdy, a square in most aspects of his life. Nevertheless, Donald loves his son and his wife, so what's he to do?
Well, Connie, his wife convinces him that they owe it to their son Albie, to take him on the Grand Tour of Europe, just the thing to repair a marriage. Right. Douglas goes along with it, thinking it will give him a chance to change Connie's mind. They hit all the major cities, Paris, where their son meets up with a street musician, goes off with her for day or two, then she shows up in Amsterdam as well, no doubt invited by the son. So the tensions escalates, Connie siding with her son (let him do what he wants) and Douglas, of course, wanting Albie to be like him, obedient, interested in museums, glad to be with his parents, and filled with gratitude for this chance to see Europe. Not. Eventually, Douglas insults his son in a restaurant and Albie flees with his street singer and Connie and Douglas are left alone, neither hearing a word from their son, nor a text.
His disappearance ruins the trip and they decide to fly home. At the airport, Douglas has the idea that he can save his marriage by finding his son, apologizing, and saving himself. So Connie flies home alone and Douglas takes off, hoping to find his son, visiting Venice, then Siena, finally finding him in Madrid with the help of the folk singer friend who Albie has abandoned. By the time Douglas finds Albie, he's a wreck, on the verge of a breakdown, and the two begin to communicate and empathize with each others positions for the first time in their relationship. They visit the Prado, stay with each other, then decide to go to Barcelona, to see the sea. They go to the beach, happy with their choices and Douglas gets bitten by a jelly fish, and goes back to his room. He has a heart attack and fortunately, Albie decides to come and see how his father is doing, saves the day by calling the EMS.
Connie flies in and it takes Douglas a couple of weeks to get permission to fly back to England, a bit unsteady but a changed man. His relationship with his son has changed as well; they both understand each other better, and Douglas is content with Albie's decisions. Things, however, don't change with Connie and she eventually leaves Douglas, returns to her bohemian life, reconnects with her former lover, and moves in with him. Douglas is distraught, unhappy, but eventually finds his way out of his depression. The books ends with his remembering a woman he spent a day with in Venice, and he finds her name and number on a piece of paper. To be continued.
Time for the Super Bowl.
No comments:
Post a Comment