Novelist/screenwriter Yglesias's first work of fiction in 13 years was inspired by his relationship with his late wife, Margaret, who died in 2004. It tells the story of Enrique Sabas and his wife, also named Margaret, who struggle to learn about each other and then relearn it all through the ebbs and flows of their adult lives. Between the start and the stop of their 30-year marriage is love, heartbreak, cruelty, redemption, forgiveness, and, finally, acceptance. The book is structured in alternating chapters, the first chapter introducing the very first meeting between Enrique and Margaret and the second set in the months leading up to Margaret's death from cancer. Audie Award winner Grover Gardner (grovergardner.blogspot.com) skillfully conveys the small and large tensions and drama that encapsulate this and most every other long-term relationship. For appreciators of literary fiction interested in more deeply exploring the subjects of relationships, cancer, death, and dying.—J. Sara Paulk, Fitzgerald-Ben Hill Cty. Lib., GA
…full of feeling but void of bathos…The mystery of what's at the heart of a marriage can't be unlocked, or even fully captured in words. But Enrique and Margaret are anything but common, distinct both as characters and in the endurance of their love.
The New York Times
Yglesias (Fearless) delivers his first novel in 13 years, an autobiographical and devastatingly raw appraisal of a nearly 30-year marriage. As the novel opens in 1975, 21-year-old Enrique Sabas, a high school-dropout literary wunderkind, has just met Margaret Cohen, a vivacious, beautiful budding graphic designer who will become the love of his life. Enrique and Margaret's romantic and sexual misadventures during the first awkward weeks of their courtship are interspersed with scenes from the couple's three decades together before Margaret succumbs to cancer: raising children, losing a parent, the temptation of an easy affair. Margaret's physical decline and Enrique's acknowledgment of guilt, inadequacy and a selfish desire to postpone his loss are described in blunt, heart-wrenching detail, and Enrique's ongoing struggles to define the nature of masculinity, the significance of art and the value of marriage add a philosophical layer to the domestic snapshots. Although the couple's privileged lifestyle can get in the way of the reader-character bond, the texture of their marriage and the pain of their loss will be familiar to anyone who has shared a long-term relationship. (July)Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
Autobiographical work from novelist/screenwriter Yglesias (Dr. Neruda's Cure for Evil, 1996, etc.) chronicles a man's confrontation with the imminent death of his wife. The novel begins with the 1975 meeting of precocious young novelist Enrique Sabas and beautiful, artistic Margaret Cohen in his walk-up Greenwich Village apartment, then flashes forward to the novel's present, when she begs him to help her die rather than let her suffer anymore from terminal cancer. From there, odd-numbered chapters chronicle the couple's courtship and flawed marriage; even-numbered ones return to the present, as Enrique, now a successful screenwriter, searches for the strength to help his wife bid loved ones farewell and die with dignity. The flashbacks illuminate Enrique's psychology but give the narrative a disjointed quality. The back story devolves into confessional: Enrique blames himself for unhappiness in their marriage, breast-beating over his lack of sexual self-esteem due to occasional impotence-which makes an absurd combination with a libido depicted as so ravenous that it has strained his relationship with Margaret. Enrique's painful honesty about his pathological self-consciousness and solipsism might, in lighter doses, pass for self-deprecation, but when he tells us all about the technological wonder of his Treo smartphone before turning his attention to his dying wife, he is both unlikable and impossible to take seriously. Granted, he's under extreme emotional duress. The frequency with which his mind wanders over trite details unrelated to the dire matters at hand, however, make it exceedingly hard to buy into the tragic scenario the author has set up-that Enrique has only recently becomeaware that his wife is the love of his life. Near the end, past and present scenes alternate with greater rapidity, contrasting early episodes of romance and sex with the brutal details of Margaret's progress toward death. Yglesias knows how to pluck the heartstrings but flounders in the execution. A would-be tragedy that plays unsuccessfully on the inherent fascination with sex and death. Author events in Los Angeles and New York Tri-State Area. Agent: Lynn Nesbit/Janklow & Nesbit