Boychik Lit Book Reviews - No. 2 - KRLA 870 AM Los Angeles
The Marriage Plot
Eugenides poses the question: “Does a love story that ends in marriage have any
relevance today?” Time was, back in Jane Austen’s nineteenth-century Britain,
whether the heroine snagged the man of her dreams made all the difference. He
would be handsome, tender, and – best of all – rich. Doesn’t sound too P. C.
does it? But that’s essentially the plot of chick-lit novels like Sex and the
In a man’s take on the subject, The Marriage Plot
hinges on a love triangle first joined on a college campus.
There’s a shy man who wants to help starving children, a neurotic woman who has
a big heart, and a brilliant biochemist who has serious mental problems. Ultimately, this is a novel about
perception, what we make of reality as it is happening to us, and our inability
to make meaning of events in time to control their outcome. Things happen or
they don't. Things work out or they don't. They mostly don't, and we move on. Bad news for self-help gurus who are
helping you make plans. Way to make God laugh.
For Boychik Lit, I’m Gerald Everett Jones. Read my hilarious new novel Mr.Ballpoint,
and follow my rants at www.boychiklit.com.
From my longer review cross-posted on Goodreads.com:
The Marriage Plot
is masterful on many levels. At first I wasn't drawn to any of
the three characters in the love triangle - Madeleine, Leonard, and Mitchell.
Each seemed deeply flawed, and they are. Except you read along and find that Eugenides
thinks we all are, just as deeply in our unique ways, and are none the lesser
for it. That's the way people are, and the way life goes. We stumble through
it, thinking we are somehow in control, and it's what happens nevertheless
while we are furiously busy making other plans, or simply fretting about making
up our minds.
This is a literary novel, in the best sense, and I was surprised to read some
critics cramming it into the diminutive genre "campus novel." That
would be like classifying Pride and Prejudice
as a rom com, which is not as
irrelevant as it sounds. The marriage plot, you see, is the genre form of which
that work is representative. Eugenides wants to know whether the marriage plot
is dead as a meaningful literary form, now that marriage seems hardly worthy as
the ultimate goal of youthful aspirations.
Then there's the theme of semiotics. I studied with Roland Barthes (yes, I'm
that old) and back then I don't think the term semiotics even existed. At
least, I don't recall his ever having used it. But he talked incessantly about
structuralism, that a novel is a long sentence spoken by its author, a literary
construct waiting to be parsed. Understand, I didn't get any of this from him
back then, just from what others, including Susan Sontag, have written about
him since. His lesson plan was built around Balzac's short story
"Sarrasine," which is the engrossing tale of a man obsessed by an
opera star who turns out to be both a castralto and the "kept woman"
of a powerful priest. But why Barthes chose that story for his criticism
totally escaped me at the time, and I can only surmise now what his intentions
But back to Eugenides. The characters meet in a semiotics class at Brown, and
the author gives a lot of detail about the subject and its impact on their
personal thoughts. Semiotics claims, for example, that humans would not
experience love as we have come to understand it unless we had read about it
(or seen movies about it) first. There's a similar concept in Stendhal's The
Red and the Black,
in which the narrator comments that peasants in the French
countryside cope with life less well than the sophisticated citizens of Paris,
who have all read novels that give them models for how to act in society.
Ultimately, this is a novel about perception, what we make of reality as it is
happening to us, and our inability to make meaning of events in time to control
their outcome. Things happen or they don't. Things work out or they don't. They
mostly don't, and we move on.
Perhaps significantly, the character in this book who understands himself best
is the one whose grasp on reality is most tenuous, because he has to work at
staying sane. In his acknowledgements, Eugenides credits several experts and
sources for genetic research (another theme), but he thanks no one for his
extensive detailing of bipolar disorder and its treatment. So naturally I
wonder how he came by this information, and at what personal cost. (An astute Goodreads commentator observed that Eugenides was a close personal friend of David Foster Wallace, a brilliant novelist who suffered from bipolar disorder and committed suicide.)