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Book Review: O’Nan’s “Emily, Alone”
Is Poetic, Extraordinary Novel
By Barbara Murphy
Contributing Writer
Maureen Corrigan, who regularly reviews books for National Public Radio (NPR), has turned her job into a form of high art.
With her marvelous gift for words, and her passion for books, she entices the would-be reader into the author’s world and essentially dares that would-be reader to ignore the book.
I always listen closely to Dr. Corrigan’s reviews, but I rarely buy or borrow the books she recommends because I usually only read books that make me mad — non-fiction books about financial bad guys, political bad guys and environmental bad guys. Yet when Dr. Corrigan reviewed Stewart O’Nan’s latest novel, “Emily, Alone,” I was hooked. I had to read that book.
Much to my embarrassment, I had never heard of Mr. O’Nan, though he has written 16 novels and a play. But from the moment I began to read “Emily, Alone,” I was entranced though there was nothing in it to make me mad or even slightly agitated.
The book is about a year in the life of Emily Maxwell, an 80-year-old upper middle class Pittsburgh widow, who lives alone with her dog Rufus. You might say that Mr. O’Nan is the Seinfeld of the elderly set. “Emily, Alone” is a book in which almost nothing out of the ordinary happens, except for the relentless and mysterious progress of life itself.
However, the book begins on one of the rare days on which something out of the ordinary does happen.
It’s Tuesday, the day on which Emily Maxwell puts what precious little remains of her life in God’s and her sister-in-law Arlene’s shaky hands and they drive together to the Eat’n Park restaurant for the two-for-one breakfast buffet.
The two women had become inseparable since the death of Emily’s husband, Henry. He had always done the driving. It was a point of pride with him. Now, Henry’s Oldsmobile sits back in the garage with Emily’s rusty golf clubs as if decommissioned.
The two women have their usual breakfast but on the way out of the restaurant, Arlene has a “spell” and falls on the sidewalk, hitting her head. She is rushed to the hospital and Emily suddenly finds herself consumed with Arlene’s care. Using Arlene’s car, Emily retrieves what Arlene needs from her home and spends hours sitting in the hospital with her injured friend.
Her sister-in-law recovers but Emily decides that the incident shows that at 80 years old, she has to resume driving. At first, she tries to drive the Olds, but driving that car is like trying to drive a tank. Emily quickly decides the smartest thing for her to do is to buy a new car. She settles on a Subaru, which turns out to be perfect for her. “She had trouble believing this sleek nimble machine was hers.... There was something incongruous, if not outright ironic, in the mismatch of car and driver. She felt decrepit while it was brand new, and at no time in her life, even as a long-legged teen, had she been sporty.”
Thanksgiving is the next thing on Emily’s calendar. She desperately wants to have both her son and daughter and their families with her but she has been afraid to ask. She now decides the best bet is her dutiful, sweet-natured son Kenneth, who reminds her so much of Henry, but he tells her that not only will his family be with his in-laws for Thanksgiving but also will be with them for Christmas. It’s obvious to Emily that her son, despite his dutifulness and politeness, prefers the in-laws to her company. Kenneth consoles Emily by reminding her that her daughter Margaret and family are scheduled to be with Emily for Christmas and Kenneth promises to visit his mother at Easter.
The upshot of it all is that Emily and Arlene spend Thanksgiving as they usually do — at their club.
Mr. O’Nan poignantly describes how Emily prepares to be the belle of the ball. “Getting dressed for the club, Emily struggled with her jade necklace. She bent forward toward her vanity, chin tucked to her chest, arms curled behind her ducked head blindly trying to pinch open the clasp and marry it to the tiny eyelet. With every miss, she lets out her held breath like a sigh. She’d get it eventually, she never failed yet. It was the contorted position as much as the clumsiness of her effort that was humiliating. Over the years, she and Henry had made a ceremony of the moment. There was no need to ask him. On formal occasions like tonight, he would stand behind her like a valet waiting for her to finish her makeup. She’d find him admiring her in the mirror, and while she discounted his adoration of her beauty — based, as it was, on a much younger woman — she also relied on it and as time based she was grateful for the restorative powers of his memory.”
Much to Emily’s relief, her daughter Margaret confirms that she and her family will indeed come to Emily’s for Christmas. Though Emily is delighted to hear this, she knows the visit will be rough sledding. She and Margaret have been in a semi-state of war for years, just as Emily was with her own mother. However, this year Emily and Margaret get through Christmas without blood shed and Emily goes onto the next item on her worry-list. When will the thank you notes arrive from the children and grandchildren who received from her the nicest Christmas presents the stores and catalogs could offer? In Emily’s world, failure to send a thank you note is a hanging offense.
And that’s one of the most compelling things about this elderly woman. She’s not a sweet, gentle, all-loving grandmother but is a woman with a wide range of emotions. By her own admission, she was a spoiled only child who had a mean streak and an addiction to explosive temper tantrums. The passage of time and her marriage to Henry erased the worst in Emily’s character, but she retained an inner toughness which helped her in the ultimately losing battle with old age and death.
Despite the subject matter, “Emily, Alone” is not a morbid book. It is a poetic book that reminds us as Seinfeld did that a work about nothing can really be a work about everything. Mr. O’Nan’s majestic prose and his incredible mastery of detail make “Emily, Alone” a most extraordinary book.
*
(Emily, Alone, by Stewart O’Nan, published by Viking Penguin, New York, NY; 2011, 255 pages, $25.95.)
Is Poetic, Extraordinary Novel
By Barbara Murphy
Contributing Writer
Maureen Corrigan, who regularly reviews books for National Public Radio (NPR), has turned her job into a form of high art.
With her marvelous gift for words, and her passion for books, she entices the would-be reader into the author’s world and essentially dares that would-be reader to ignore the book.
I always listen closely to Dr. Corrigan’s reviews, but I rarely buy or borrow the books she recommends because I usually only read books that make me mad — non-fiction books about financial bad guys, political bad guys and environmental bad guys. Yet when Dr. Corrigan reviewed Stewart O’Nan’s latest novel, “Emily, Alone,” I was hooked. I had to read that book.
Much to my embarrassment, I had never heard of Mr. O’Nan, though he has written 16 novels and a play. But from the moment I began to read “Emily, Alone,” I was entranced though there was nothing in it to make me mad or even slightly agitated.
The book is about a year in the life of Emily Maxwell, an 80-year-old upper middle class Pittsburgh widow, who lives alone with her dog Rufus. You might say that Mr. O’Nan is the Seinfeld of the elderly set. “Emily, Alone” is a book in which almost nothing out of the ordinary happens, except for the relentless and mysterious progress of life itself.
However, the book begins on one of the rare days on which something out of the ordinary does happen.
It’s Tuesday, the day on which Emily Maxwell puts what precious little remains of her life in God’s and her sister-in-law Arlene’s shaky hands and they drive together to the Eat’n Park restaurant for the two-for-one breakfast buffet.
The two women had become inseparable since the death of Emily’s husband, Henry. He had always done the driving. It was a point of pride with him. Now, Henry’s Oldsmobile sits back in the garage with Emily’s rusty golf clubs as if decommissioned.
The two women have their usual breakfast but on the way out of the restaurant, Arlene has a “spell” and falls on the sidewalk, hitting her head. She is rushed to the hospital and Emily suddenly finds herself consumed with Arlene’s care. Using Arlene’s car, Emily retrieves what Arlene needs from her home and spends hours sitting in the hospital with her injured friend.
Her sister-in-law recovers but Emily decides that the incident shows that at 80 years old, she has to resume driving. At first, she tries to drive the Olds, but driving that car is like trying to drive a tank. Emily quickly decides the smartest thing for her to do is to buy a new car. She settles on a Subaru, which turns out to be perfect for her. “She had trouble believing this sleek nimble machine was hers.... There was something incongruous, if not outright ironic, in the mismatch of car and driver. She felt decrepit while it was brand new, and at no time in her life, even as a long-legged teen, had she been sporty.”
Thanksgiving is the next thing on Emily’s calendar. She desperately wants to have both her son and daughter and their families with her but she has been afraid to ask. She now decides the best bet is her dutiful, sweet-natured son Kenneth, who reminds her so much of Henry, but he tells her that not only will his family be with his in-laws for Thanksgiving but also will be with them for Christmas. It’s obvious to Emily that her son, despite his dutifulness and politeness, prefers the in-laws to her company. Kenneth consoles Emily by reminding her that her daughter Margaret and family are scheduled to be with Emily for Christmas and Kenneth promises to visit his mother at Easter.
The upshot of it all is that Emily and Arlene spend Thanksgiving as they usually do — at their club.
Mr. O’Nan poignantly describes how Emily prepares to be the belle of the ball. “Getting dressed for the club, Emily struggled with her jade necklace. She bent forward toward her vanity, chin tucked to her chest, arms curled behind her ducked head blindly trying to pinch open the clasp and marry it to the tiny eyelet. With every miss, she lets out her held breath like a sigh. She’d get it eventually, she never failed yet. It was the contorted position as much as the clumsiness of her effort that was humiliating. Over the years, she and Henry had made a ceremony of the moment. There was no need to ask him. On formal occasions like tonight, he would stand behind her like a valet waiting for her to finish her makeup. She’d find him admiring her in the mirror, and while she discounted his adoration of her beauty — based, as it was, on a much younger woman — she also relied on it and as time based she was grateful for the restorative powers of his memory.”
Much to Emily’s relief, her daughter Margaret confirms that she and her family will indeed come to Emily’s for Christmas. Though Emily is delighted to hear this, she knows the visit will be rough sledding. She and Margaret have been in a semi-state of war for years, just as Emily was with her own mother. However, this year Emily and Margaret get through Christmas without blood shed and Emily goes onto the next item on her worry-list. When will the thank you notes arrive from the children and grandchildren who received from her the nicest Christmas presents the stores and catalogs could offer? In Emily’s world, failure to send a thank you note is a hanging offense.
And that’s one of the most compelling things about this elderly woman. She’s not a sweet, gentle, all-loving grandmother but is a woman with a wide range of emotions. By her own admission, she was a spoiled only child who had a mean streak and an addiction to explosive temper tantrums. The passage of time and her marriage to Henry erased the worst in Emily’s character, but she retained an inner toughness which helped her in the ultimately losing battle with old age and death.
Despite the subject matter, “Emily, Alone” is not a morbid book. It is a poetic book that reminds us as Seinfeld did that a work about nothing can really be a work about everything. Mr. O’Nan’s majestic prose and his incredible mastery of detail make “Emily, Alone” a most extraordinary book.
*
(Emily, Alone, by Stewart O’Nan, published by Viking Penguin, New York, NY; 2011, 255 pages, $25.95.)