The Beginner's Goodbyeby Anne Tyler
Crippled in his right arm and leg, Aaron grew up fending off a sister who constantly wanted to manage him. So when he meets/b>
Pulitzer Prize–winning author Anne Tyler gives us a wise, haunting, and deeply moving new novel about loss and recovery, pierced throughout with her humor, wisdom, and always penetrating look at human foibles.
Crippled in his right arm and leg, Aaron grew up fending off a sister who constantly wanted to manage him. So when he meets Dorothy, an outspoken, independent young woman, she’s like a breath of fresh air. He marries her without hesitation, and they have a relatively happy, unremarkable marriage. Aaron works at his family’s vanity-publishing business, turning out titles that presume to guide beginners through the trials of life. But when a tree crashes into their house and Dorothy is killed, Aaron feels as though he has been erased forever. Only Dorothy’s unexpected appearances from the dead—in their house, on the roadway, in the market—help him to live in the moment and to find some peace. Gradually, Aaron discovers that maybe for this beginner there is indeed a way to say goodbye.
“Like a modern Jane Austen, Tyler creates small worlds [depicting] the intimate bonds of friendship and family.”—USA Today
“An absolute charmer of a novel . . . With sparkling prose . . . [Anne] Tyler gets at the beating heart of what it means to lose someone, to say goodbye.”—The Boston Globe
“Classic Tyler . . . The wonder of Anne Tyler is how consistently clear-eyed and truthful she remains about the nature of families and especially marriage.”—Los Angeles Times
“Beautifully intricate . . . By the exquisitely romantic emotional climax [an] ordinary life has bloomed into an opera.”—Entertainment Weekly
Don’t miss the conversation between Anne Tyler and Robb Forman Dew at the back of the book.
This ebook edition includes a Reading Group Guide.
“A pleasure to read . . . Classic Tyler . . . The wonder of Anne Tyler is how consistently clear-eyed and truthful she remains about the nature of families and especially marriage.” —Los Angeles Times
“Like a modern Jane Austen, Tyler creates small worlds where she depicts in minutest detail the intimate bonds of friendship and family.” —USA Today
“Anne Tyler is one of our national treasures, and The Beginner’s Goodbye puts all of her skills on display: her warmth and wit, her generous embrace of her flawed characters, her clear-eyed observations about the inner workings of a marriage and the enduring bonds between brothers and sisters, husbands and wives.” —Jennifer Weiner
“The Beginner’s Goodbye is the purest distillation of an Anne Tyler novel imaginable.” —San Francisco Chronicle
“Anne Tyler has no peer. Her books just keep getting better and better. In The Beginner’s Goodbye, I was surprised, intrigued, and delighted at every turn.” —Anita Shreve
“Anne Tyler never disappoints . . . Her insights about life, love, aging, marriage, siblings, grief, and unexpected happiness grow richer and deeper with each passing year and book.” —Pittsburgh Post-Gazette
“Over five decades of exuberant shape-shifting across the fictional landscape, Anne Tyler has cut the steady swath of a literary stalwart, writing novel after novel whose most memorable characters inhabit a cosmos all their own . . . What makes each story distinctive is the particular way its characters rebel against hereditary confines, cope with fateful crises, or forge relationships with new acquaintances who rock their world . . . Once again, Tyler exhibits her genius for the incisive, savory portrayal of marriage.” —Julia Glass, New York Times Book Review
“This is what Tyler does better than almost any contemporary writer. She peers at the forgotten areas of the everyday, the bits that are hard to pinpoint, yet make up the bulk of our lives and relationships. And this, ultimately, is why she is such a satisfying writer: she looks at people—at life—from the inside out. This is a book not just about grief, but about hope . . . The Beginner’s Goodbye is diverting, certainly, but also deeply rewarding. There is, in short, no guilt in the pleasure of a new Tyler. We can only hope for many, many more.” —Sunday Times (UK)
“Beautifully intricate. By the exquisitely romantic emotional climax, Aaron’s ordinary life has bloomed into an opera.” —Entertainment Weekly
“Its insights will keep you up nights. . . . Ranks high in the hierarchy of Tyler’s works. And what a lineup that is.” —Chicago Tribune
“Warm, smart, deliciously written.” —More magazine
“As always, Pulitzer Prize winner Tyler brilliantly explores a stunning range of human emotion, poignantly considering the challenges of death while creating lovable characters whose foibles capture our hearts. Essential reading.” —Library Journal
“One of the things that makes Tyler’s work so radiant is that she seems to believe that people are inherently good and that, thanks to that goodness, ordinary lives can contain moments of great beauty, dignity, and hope. The Beginner’s Goodbye has all three . . . [Told] with characteristic warmth, sympathy and wisdom.” —Daily Telegraph (UK)
“A scintillating gem of a novel . . . Exceptionally lithe and sparkling . . . A funny, sweet, and wise tale of lost and found love.” —Booklist (starred)
“Elegant . . . An uplifting tale of love and forgiveness. By the end of this wonderful book, you’ve lived the lives and loves of these characters in the best possible way.” —Publishers Weekly (starred, Pick of the Week)
“Anne Tyler writes about real life, and in common with the finest fiction writers, such as William Trevor and Alice Munro, she does not engage with fantasy, as she is well aware that the ordinary is sufficiently bizarre . . . She is effortless, wise yet never knowing, and establishes a sense of having thought deeply about the given facts of any story . . . She is also sympathetic without being sentimental . . . Yet again she has articulated the supreme difficulties of human communication in a calmly insightful exploration of love and truth, grief and reality.” —Irish Times
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Read an Excerpt
The strangest thing about my wife’s return from the dead was how other people reacted.
We were strolling through Belvedere Square, for instance, on an early-spring afternoon when we met our old next-door neighbor, Jim Rust. “Well, what do you know,” he said to me. “Aaron!” Then he noticed Dorothy beside me. She stood peering up at him with one hand shielding her forehead from the sun. His eyes widened and he turned to me again.
I said, “How’s it going, Jim?”
Visibly, he pulled himself together. “Oh . . . great,” he said. “I mean . . . or, rather . . . but of course we miss you. Neighborhood is not the same without you!”
He was focusing on me alone—specifically, on my mouth, as if I were the one who was talking. He wouldn’t look at Dorothy. He had pivoted a few inches so as to exclude her from his line of vision.
I took pity on him. I said, “Well, tell everybody hello,” and we walked on. Beside me, Dorothy gave one of her dry chuckles.
Other people pretended not to recognize either one of us. They would catch sight of us from a distance, and this sort of jolt would alter their expressions and they would all at once dart down a side street, busy-busy, much to accomplish, very important concerns on their minds. I didn’t hold it against them. I knew this was a lot to adjust to. In their position, I might have behaved the same way. I like to think I wouldn’t, but I might have.
The ones who made me laugh aloud were the ones who had forgotten she’d died. Granted, there were only two or three of those—people who barely knew us. In line at the bank once we were spotted by Mr. von Sant, who had handled our mortgage application several years before. He was crossing the lobby and he paused to ask, “You two still enjoying the house?”
“Oh, yes,” I told him.
Just to keep things simple.
I pictured how the realization would hit him a few minutes later. Wait! he would say to himself, as he was sitting back down at his desk. Didn’t I hear something about . . . ?
Unless he never gave us another thought. Or hadn’t heard the news in the first place. He’d go on forever assuming that the house was still intact, and Dorothy still alive, and the two of us still happily, unremarkably married.
I had moved in by then with my sister, who lived in our parents’ old place in north Baltimore. Was that why Dorothy came back when she did? She hadn’t much cared for Nandina. She thought she was too bossy. Well, she was too bossy. Is. She’s especially bossy with me, because I have a couple of handicaps. I may not have mentioned that. I have a crippled right arm and leg. Nothing that gets in my way, but you know how older sisters can be.
Oh, and also a kind of speech hesitation, but only intermittently. I seldom even hear it, myself.
In fact, I have often wondered what made Dorothy select the moment she did to come back. It wasn’t immediately after she died, which is when you might expect. It was months and months later. Almost a year. Of course I could have just asked her, but somehow, I don’t know, the question seemed impolite. I can’t explain exactly why.
One time we ran into Irene Lance, from my office. She’s the design person there. Dorothy and I were returning from lunch. Or I had had lunch, at least, and Dorothy had fallen into step beside me as I was walking back. And suddenly we noticed Irene approaching from St. Paul. Irene was hard to miss. She was always the most elegant woman on the street, not that that was much of a challenge in Baltimore. But she would have seemed elegant anywhere. She was tall and ice-blonde, wearing a long, flowing coat that day with the collar turned up around her throat and the hemline swirling about her shins in the brisk spring breeze. I was curious. How would a person like Irene handle this type of thing? So I slowed my pace, which caused Dorothy to slow hers, and by the time Irene caught sight of us we were almost at a standstill, both of us waiting to see what Irene would do.
Two or three feet away from us, she stopped short. “Oh . . . my . . . God,” she said.
“UPS,” she said.
I said, “What?”
“I phoned UPS for a pickup and there’s nobody in the office.”
“Well, never mind. We’re heading back there right now,” I told her.
I used the word “we” on purpose, although Dorothy would most likely depart before I entered the building.
But all Irene said was, “Thanks, Aaron. I must be getting Alzheimer’s.”
And off she went, without another word.
She would really have worried about Alzheimer’s if she had known what she’d just overlooked.
I glanced over at Dorothy, expecting her to share the joke, but she was pursuing her own line of thought. “Wild Strawberries,” she said, in a reflective tone of voice.
“That’s who Irene reminds me of. The woman in the old Bergman movie—the daughter-in-law, with the skinned-back bun. Remember her?”
“Ingrid Thulin,” I said.
Dorothy raised her eyebrows slightly, to show she was impressed, but it wasn’t so very difficult to dredge that name up. I had been enamored with Ingrid Thulin since college. I liked her cool, collected air.
“How long do you suppose it will be before Irene does a double take?” I asked Dorothy.
Dorothy merely shrugged.
She seemed to view our situation much more matter-of-factly than I did.
Maybe the reason I didn’t ask Dorothy why she had come back when she did was that I worried it would make her ask herself the same question. If she had just sort of wandered back, absentmindedly, the way you would return to an old address out of habit, then once I’d brought it up she might say, “Oh! My goodness! I should be going!”
Or maybe she would imagine I was asking what she was doing here. Why she had come back at all, in other words. Like when you ask a houseguest how long he’s planning to stay and he suspects you’re asking, “When can I hope to be rid of you?” Maybe that was why I felt it wouldn’t be polite.
It would kill me if she left. I had already gone through that once. I didn’t think I could do it all over again.
She was short and plump and serious-looking. She had a broad, olive-skinned face, appealingly flat-planed, and calm black eyes that were noticeably level, with that perfect symmetry that makes the viewer feel rested. Her hair, which she cut herself in a heedless, blunt, square style, was deeply, absolutely black, and all of a piece. (Her family had come from Mexico two generations before.) And yet I don’t think other people recognized how attractive she was, because she hid it. Or, no, not even that; she was too unaware of it to hide it. She wore owlish, round-lensed glasses that mocked the shape of her face. Her clothes made her figure seem squat—wide, straight trousers and man-tailored shirts, chunky crepe-soled shoes of a type that waitresses favored in diners. Only I noticed the creases as fine as silk threads that encircled her wrists and her neck. Only I knew her dear, pudgy feet, with the nails like tiny seashells.
My sister said Dorothy was too old for me, but that was just because I had foolishly told the truth when I was asked. Even though she was eight years my senior—forty-three when she died—she seemed younger, because of that good strong Hispanic skin. Plus, she had enough padding to fill out any lines. You wouldn’t really think about age at all, with Dorothy.
My sister also said she was too short for me, and it is undeniable that when Dorothy and I hugged, all the wrong parts of us met. I am six-feet-four. Dorothy was not quite five-one. If you saw us walking down the street together, my sister said, you would take us for a father and child heading off to grammar school.
And too professional, my sister said. Ha! There’s a novel objection. Dorothy was a doctor. I work as an editor in my family’s publishing firm. Not all that great a disparity, right? What Nandina meant was, too intent upon her profession. Too work-obsessed. She left for her office early, stayed late, didn’t greet me with my slippers in the evening, barely knew how to boil an egg. Fine with me.
But not with Nandina, evidently.
Maybe it was just a long, long way to travel, and that’s why it took Dorothy all those months to come back.
Or maybe she had first tried to do without me, the way I had first tried to do without her—to “get over” my loss, “find closure,” “move on,” all those ridiculous phrases people use when they’re urging you to endure the unendurable. But eventually, she had faced the fact that we simply missed each other too much. She had given in and returned.
That’s what I liked to believe.
Meet the Author
Anne Tyler was born in Minneapolis, Minnesota, in 1941 and grew up in Raleigh, North Carolina. This is her nineteenth novel; her eleventh, Breathing Lessons, was awarded the Pulitzer Prize in 1988. She is a member of the American Academy of Arts and Letters. She lives in Baltimore, Maryland.
- Baltimore, Maryland
- Date of Birth:
- October 25, 1941
- Place of Birth:
- Minneapolis, Minnesota
- B.A., Duke University, 1961
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Most Helpful Customer Reviews
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I believe I've read everything Anne Tyler has written and I am a big fan of her books. She has an even-handed quirky approach to life's mysteries; her books are fast-paced and her characters are memorable. My alltime favorite is The Accidental Tourist, closely followed by Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant and Breathing Lessons. TBG is not up to the mark of her previous books. To begin with, it is more a novella, under 200 pages, and her characters are more charictures than full-blown people. Aaron is didactic and caustic, Dorothy is stodgy and clinical, Nandina is hovering and bossy, Gil is salt-of-the-earth. Aaron's turnaround is less than logical, almost an aboutface to hook up with the most vulnerable character in the book. This is close to a romance, which the excellent Back When We Were Grownups skillfully side steps.
Only in his mid-30's, Aaron Wolcott, walks with a limp and depends on a cane for balance. An illness when young left him slightly paralyzed. He graduated from Stanford with a degree in English, but after college ended up working in the family's publishing Company editing books. At 24, he meets Dr. Dorothy, an oncologist, who is 8 years his senior, and, an introvert and loner like himself. After just 4 months, they marry and have a happy marriage of 10 years. Dorothy dies in a freak accident, when a tree crashes through the roof of their small home. She was only 43. The Beginner's Goodbye, is a deeply moving story. It's a story about love, loss, forgiveness and acceptance. The story left me with a lot to think about, and the ending ultimately left me smiling. This is one of my favorites of Anne Tyler. I love the way she writes; she puts so much meaning into the simplest gestures with her perfect word choice. This story is bittersweet but charming and memorable and very heart warming.
Another Tyleresque oddball Baltimorean learns about love and loss. Wasn't sure how much I liked it in the middle, but she gives a good wrap-up at the end, which I quite liked. An engaging read from a dependable author.
I usually enjoy Anne Tyler's fiction, but I cannot figure out if I really liked this book or not. The main character wasn't very likable, although I did find his friends and family amusing and quirky. The premise was interesting and well-drawn, but the ending was a little too pat. The book kept me interested, but I kept waiting for more substance and plot. This latest Tyler endeavor is hard for me to figure out., but it is definitely worth a try. You may love it!
This story deals with a very unusual way in which a man deals with grief. Let's just say you never know what will happen next in his journey. I found it very interesting.
I was a little disappointed with this book. I thought the without could have given a deeper look into the characters. The end came ttoo soon and left me wanting more.
Please keep writing anne,my very favorite writer,
Don't think this was Anne Tyler's best book. It just never grabbed me. There wasn't much character development so you were left wondering about the characters past. It felt to me like there were too many stories going on. And the ending felt like it was an after thought because she couldn't think of a good ending.
As much as I like Ann Tyler's books, this was just, well, tedious
Wonderful perspective on loss, grieving.
Loved it. Couldn't put it down. Great story. She's the best!
In The Beginner's Goodbye, Aaron, the narrator, who has been crippled and fussed over since childhood, must cope with the sudden and unexpected loss of his wife, Dorothy, who is also a bit of a misfit, and rebuild his life without her presence in it. Things are complicated by Dorthy's sudden and periodic reappearances. I enjoyed looking over Aaron's shoulder as he realizes that though he is surrounded by others who are sort of goofy, he is goofy, too (just as he and Dorothy always were, even if they didn't think so at the time), as he learns to say goodbye. An enjoyable novel, with some--as always with Tyler--lovely writing.
I eagerly await the release of each new Anne Tyler book, and I have enjoyed them all, including this one. The only fault that I can find with this book is that it was too short. It was only 146 color nook pages, which seems more like a novella than a book and $12.99 is too expensive for a novella. That being said, I still enjoyed reading this book, and really enjoyed getting to know each character. I'm rating it four stars, taking away one star for the brevity of the book itself.
There is a sample doofus.
I just finished reading The Beginner's Goodbye. It is written by Anne Tyler. It's about this man who looses his wife tragically. He's coping with her loss and dealing with getting his house back in order. He starts seeing his wife in various places months after she dies. He doesn't know why or how it happened. I'm personally on the fence about this book. I loved the storyline itself, but I was not very fond of the way it was written. I feel it could have been more detailed and informative. Some of the parts that I feel were important to the story were chopped and poorly described. I also was not very fond of the main character. I found him very self centered and rude. I'm sure there will be others that will get more out of this than I did. I don't find the book bad at all. I just think it could have been written a little better.
My new favorite of Anne Tyler's books! I originally ordered the Beginner's Goodbye for my Nook, simply because it was written by Anne Tyler. I can't imagine that Ms. Tyler would be able to write a bad book, if she tried. I've read most of them, and haven't been proven wrong yet. But this book ended up being even better than I expected. Beginner's Goodbye, the story of a man dealing with the death of his wife, is the kind of book that can make you late for work, because you make the mistake of thinking "I can read just a few pages," and then you don't want to put it down. It's the kind of book you find yourself thinking about, while you are at work or driving your car. Beginner's Goodbye's characters are like people that we know, or even people that we are. It is an affecting book. Even if you already cherish your spouse, after you read this book, i would be surprised if you didn't show just a little more appreciation of him/her. If you don't get anything else out of this book, you will find a poignant reminder to cherish the precious ordinariness of everyday life, or to quote the protagonist Aaron, to be "happily, unremarkably maried." My favorite quote was this ironic and heart-rending one from Aaron: "That was one of the worst things about losing your wife, I found; your wife is the very person you want to discuss it all with." This book is a quick read, not only because it has fewer than 200 pages, but also because once you start reading it, you don't want to do anything else until you finish it. Don't miss out on this gem.
The beginning really hooked me, but i found the book rather flat and predictable