Monthly Book Report: American Wife by Curtis Sittenfeld

 

I have had this book on my to-be-read list forever and when I spied it at the Library a few weeks back, I impulsively brought it home.  I am so glad that I finally sat down to read it.  Though I’ve read her essays and heard her on "This American Life" on many occasions, I’ve never read any of Sittenfeld’s fiction.  Based on this book, I’ll be back for more. 

American Wife is the story of Alice, a middle class young woman from Wisconsin who marries the son of a political family and finds herself thrust in the limelight of American politics.  Alice is not naive when she meets Charlie Blackwell - quite the reverse.  She’s single and in her early 30s, happy with her life as a librarian, not sure if she’ll ever fall in love, and not willing to settle into a relationship without love just to be a married woman.  Given that the title of the novel includes the word “wife”, the reader knows how things will work out for Alice and Charlie, so I was surprised I found the story so powerful.  

It’s in Alice’s thoughts about her life before her marriage that the novel really spoke to me.  Though she is in her early 30s when she and Charlie meet, and I am in my mid-50s, I could see myself in Alice’s fulfilling life as a single woman.  As I sort out my life here, in this space that I never expected to be, I’ve found enormous satisfaction in my ability to be true to what I want and what I need.  It feels like a really long time since I have been able to do that.  I find comfort in this place, both because it is comfortable and because I think that’s where life will land me in the end.  I am not the sort of person too long for an outcome that is not likely to be available to me.  It’s not always easy - most of my friendships are with people who are comfortably (and, I think, happily) married.  I’m often the only single woman in a group of people.  That can be really hard.  I especially miss a companion with whom I can talk about the small concerns of my world; in that circumstance is where I experience my greatest sense of being solitary.  

In the novel, there’s a scene early in her relationship with Charlie when they are at the grocery store in line to buy food for a meal they will make together and a now-coupled Alice sees her single self in the woman behind her in line.  She’s glad to be with Charlie but not in a way that makes her feel sorry for the single woman.  Instead, Sittenfeld’s Alice thinks, “It’s good on the other side, but it’s good on your side, too.  Enjoy it there. The loneliness is harder, and the loneliness is the biggest part; but some things are easier.” 

For a generally outgoing and bold person, I’m surprisingly private in other ways, so I am rarely lonely.  But I knew what Alice meant.  When you aren’t part of a couple you have a protective shell of sorts; you have to or your sense of vulnerability could overwhelm you.  It’s not loneliness, per se, but it can feel lonely.  The compensation is that there is also plenty of space to be true to yourself in a way that is an incredible comfort.  I think that Alice understood that and I liked her very much for it.