Firstly, does anyone else dislike film-version covers as much as I do? I picked this up at a secondhand bookshop so I didn’t have a choice, but I really don’t get it. Secondly, I haven’t seen the film, is it good? I do love Leo and Kate. Thirdly, the book is breathtaking.
There’s this powerful sense of understanding in every sentence written by Richard Yates, this sense of purposeful monotony and interesting boringness that can only really flourish in a novel about unfulfilled domestic life in 1955.
Did April and Frank get married for love? Or were they grasping at each other’s seeming acknowledgement of the other’s uniqueness? Should they have aborted their first child like April wanted to? Or were they never any better than the life they ended up with in the pleasant hillside house of a good suburb? Were they really no different to the people who they dismissed as empty or vapid? Most of all, why is it that the characters disregarded as certifiably insane or lost and immature are the only ones who seem to speak any truth?