revolutionaryroad1 Only in America. This well-written and emotional book could only take place in America, where our lack of a defining culture has become our culture. Where we simultaneous see ourselves as “less than” older, wiser European countries and “better than” anyone else because of our flexible, dynamic youth. Frank and Amber, the novel’s main characters, are post-World War II products of that country, self-consciously part of the “greatest generation,” knowing they are destined for wonderful things yet finding themselves in a tract suburban home with two kids and dreams deferred. What follows is a two-pronged journey of self-discovery. One: That they are special enough to break out, to break the mold they see suffocating their individuality. Two: That despite their egos, they are perhaps more like the fallible and oh-so-boring-and-ordinary people around them than they would ever have guessed.

The beginning is slow, but stick with it. There are a lot of scenes sitting around a room over drinks philosophizing, and Frank definitely loves the sound of his own voice.

“This whole country’s rotten with sentimentality,” Frank said one night, turning ponderously from the window to walk the carpet. “It’s been spreading like a disease for years, for generations, until now everything you touch is flabby with it.”

“Exactly,” she said, enraptured by him.

“I mean isn’t that what’s really the matter, when you get right down to it? I mean even more than the profit motive or the loss of spiritual values or the fear of the bomb or any of those things? Or maybe it’s the result of those those things; maybe it’s what happens when all those things start working at once without any real cultural tradition to absorb them. Anyway, whatever it’s the result of, it’s what’s killing the United States. I mean isn’t it? This steady, insistent vulgarizing of every idea and every emotion into some kind of pre-digested intellectual baby food; this optimistic, smiling-though easy-way-out sentimentality in everybody’s view of life?”

“Yes,” she said. “Yes.”

“And I mean is it any wonder all the men end up emasculated? Because that is what happens; that is what’s reflected in all this bleating about ‘adjustment’ and ’security’ and ‘togetherness’ — and I mean Christ, you see it everywhere: all this television crap where every joke is built on the premise that daddy’s an idiot and mother’s always on to him; and these loathsome little signs people put up in their front yards — you ever notice those signs up on the Hill?”

“The ‘The’ signs, you mean; with people’s name in the plural? Like ‘The Donaldsons’?”

“Right!” He turned and smiled down at her in triumphant congratulation for having seen exactly what he meant. “Never ‘Donaldson’ or “John D. Donaldson’ or whatever the hell his name is. Always ‘The Donaldsons.’ You picture the whole cozy little bunch of them sitting around all snug as bunnies in their pajamas, for God’s sake, toasting marshmallows. I guess the Campbells haven’t put up a sign like that yet, but give ‘em time. THe rate they’re going now, they will.” He paused here for a deep-throated laugh. “And my God, when you think how close we came to settling into that kind of an existence.”

“But we didn’t,” she told him. “That’s the important thing.”

Wow. The ego is mind-blowing, and the sexism there more than a little apparent. Well, part of that is certainly the time period. I’d love to discuss that element of the book with someone else — whether the author’s goal is to speak to society’s and his wife’s emasculation of Frank as the source of his troubles, or perhaps that his ego and fear of emasculation is what blinds him to his real troubles. Veddy veddy interesting, IMO.

No matter what the author’s intent — in the end, it doesn’t really matter — this books is one that gets the gears turning. It sums up the frustration of the American dream so precisely and deeply, making you both love and hate it’s characters, making you cringe at their pain while you kind of root for their downfall. Yates succeeded in depicting my ambiguous feelings about this country of mine with simple but evokative prose and characters that will whisper in my ear for some time to come. Brilliant.

What ever happened to Yates, who was apparently quite popular in his time? I may have to pick up another of his novels.

Rating: 5 out of 5 stars – Buy the hardcover