Adultery—-it’s painful stuff. It’s one thing to be the adulterer. It’s another thing to be the other person. It’s something else—and I say much greater—to be the one cheated on, the one who accepts or turns a blind eye or even who is blindsided. But imagine the teen or preteen child of the married couple who learns of the infidelity in a most telling, explicit manner: by intercepting notes between the two who cheat. This is the tale of Among the Ten Thousand Things.
The book is wonderfully written. The descriptive language brings warmth and life to this sad story full of heartbreak, confusion, and bitter loneliness. The pace works beautifully through most of it, giving glimpses into each family member’s mental place as their collective and individual worlds are rocked when Jack’s cheating is revealed. (No spoilers: this is the premise of the book, and we learn of it in the first few pages.) In the writing, though, I encountered a story-telling method I’d never before seen. I’m still reflecting on that.
About midway through the book, our new author quickly summarizes the rest of our characters’ lives. She does this quickly, cutting to the key point of each piece out of the highlights. And she does this with almost no elaboration. She then turns back to the original current story, getting back to how this couple and their children cope with their crumbling nuclear family. I was puzzled by this abrupt shift—in both directions.
As I reflect more on it, I can appreciate a benefit to this method. We learn early what eventually happens. We no longer need to read with the lingering curiosity of whether our couple will work things out. We’re told. So when we dive back into the deep end of the current story, we can read with a eye more tuned into these characters and their struggles and emotions rather than reading to learn whether they, as a unit, survive the infidelity and lying.
The book does not try to solve the world’s problems of spouses who cheat—-whether as a habit or as an utter disregard for those affected or as a grandiose ego or as an inability to wrap up the ailing relationship before moving on. Instead, we see this only through the lens of this family. Along the way, we learn of ironies and possible just desserts and nuanced effects the cheating spouse has on an entire family.
The book is a fast and easy read, but that doesn’t make it less deep or less thoughtful. It’s especially refreshing to read the tale from at least four viewpoints, all of the characters’ stories engaging the reader with some reasons to sympathize with the characters as well as reasons to have a distaste for each. But isn’t that life? Aren’t we all complex beings with complex stories and intersecting issues?
I look forward to more works from this author. She’s worth keeping an eye on.