The Marriage Plot
It’s 1982, and Madeleine Hanna is about the graduate Brown University.
The English major finds herself drawn to Victorian literature and its battle of
suitors for a heroine’s favor. Meanwhile, her own life is not without
parallels. Madeleine struggles with an on-again, off-again relationship with
brilliant-but-unstable science major Leonard Bankhead while being pined for by
religious studies major Mitchell Grammaticus, whom she hopes to keep as a
platonic friend. The prospect of graduation, the stress of the real world, and
the expectations of friends and family threaten to bring everything to a head.
Based on both his formidable talents and his infrequent
publication, it is easy to view Jeffrey Eugenides as a semi-mythical figure in
literature. You may not hear much from him for most of a decade, but every nine
years, a new novel shall drop, and it shall be a big deal. The seeds of this
reputation were sewn in 1993 when he debuted with The Virgin Suicides, a mixture of coming-of-age and tragedy that
featured one of the more ambitious points of view (anonymous third person
plural, akin to a Greek chorus) ever attempted. He further established his
reputation in 2002 with Middlesex, a sweeping, thematically rich (but stylistically
more conventional) family history that netted him a Pulitzer. 2011’s The Marriage Plot now adds another wrinkle
to the Eugenides legend.
The defining feature of this book is its intimacy. Whereas
Eugenides’ previous efforts were at some remove from their focal characters,
The Marriage Plot gets up close and personal with Madeleine, Mitchell, and
Leonard. Eugenides, who attended Brown in the early 80s, uses these characters
to deftly skewer literary deconstructionism and other elitist fads of the day
(backpacking through Europe) with authority. In Leonard’s case, we are also
treated to a horrifyingly personal look at mental illness. Watching him
struggle – and Madeleine struggle with him – gives the book some much-needed
heft; without it, we would be subjected to hundreds of pages of triviality.
Unfortunately, the other two leads are less strikingly
defined. Mitchell’s dual quest for Madeleine and for religious truth makes him
a compelling character, but our interest is tempered by the knowledge that he
is a likely stand-in for the author (Michigan origin, Greek surname, etc.).
Comparatively, Madeleine seems almost empty. She has a rich backstory
(pseudo-upper class parents, a history of failed relationships, the slow
realization that being pretty isn’t enough, etc.), but it is never entirely
clear what is driving her. Her interest in Victorian lit comes to the forefront
briefly but is a background element for most of the novel. Meanwhile, the depth
of her devotion to Leonard seems at times unjustified.
Despite such flaws, The
Marriage Plot is a difficult book to put down. We might not be affected as
much here as we were by the revelations of The
Virgin Suicides or Middlesex, but
the immersive settings, fitfully funny moments, and skewering of academic
pomposity make it worth a read. Moreover, its slight disappointment is
illuminating. Now that we all know that Eugenides is human after all, perhaps
the nine-year cycle will end, and he’ll publish more frequently.
8/10
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