Back When We Were Grownups: A Novel (Ballantine Reader's Circle)

Back When We Were Grownups: A Novel (Ballantine Reader's Circle)

Anne Tyler

Language: English

Pages: 273

ISBN: 0345446860

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub


“A WONDERFUL NOVEL . . . Tyler’s eye and ear for familial give and take is unerring, her humanity irresistible. You’ll want to turn back to the first chapter the moment you finish the last.”
People (Page-Turner of the Week)

“STUNNING . . . ‘Once upon a time,’ the story begins, ‘there was a woman who discovered she had turned into the wrong person.’ . . . With Rebecca Davitch, Tyler has created a character who is brave enough to look back on her life and to imagine herself making different kinds of choices. Brave enough to wonder what honesty looks like, whether there is ever really a single distillation of self that is unshakable and true. . . . Anne Tyler has a talent for spinning out characters . . . who go on living long after their stories end.”
–The Baltimore Sun

“Her characters endear themselves to the reader with their candor and their wit and their simple decency. . . . The charm of an Anne Tyler novel lies in the clarity of her prose and the wisdom of her observations.”
–The Washington Post Book World

“RESEMBLES JANE AUSTEN’S PERSUASION IN THAT IT’S A NOVEL ABOUT SECOND CHANCES . . . The tension that keeps the narrative alive is our desire for Rebecca to get the recognition and respect that we know she deserves from her family, and from herself. It’s always good to have a character to root for.”
–San Jose Mercury News

“Maybe there’s something glorious to be said, after all, for companionship, common cause, and sanctuary. And what there is to say, Anne Tyler has been saying for decades, with gravity and grace.”
–The New York Times Book Review

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feels like? Try it sometime. Try walking not bending your ankles. I clomp to the bathroom like Frankenstein’s monster. And then can’t pee. A simple thing like peeing that you would take for granted. Drip, drip, drip, it finally comes—” “Ooh, gross!” Lateesha said, screwing up her face. Poppy ignored her. “Then getting dressed,” he said. “Socks! Shoes! I have to have a special technique just for putting on my shoes. And Beck here has to tie them. It’s just like being a two-year-old. ‘Mom, will

wearing his first grownup suit, seemed touchingly dignified. The backyard was more or less presentable, if you ignored the sort of wide-wale effect produced by the strips of sod that had not had time to meld together yet; and the dead azaleas (which would have to wait to be replaced by professional nurserymen) had been cunningly costumed in billows of white netting—a solution proposed by NoNo herself, although even she had not foreseen that the netting would attract a flock of tiny yellow

strangers. Oh, I’d love it if you married Will!” “Mother,” Rebecca said. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. I’m sorry now I mentioned it.” Why had she mentioned it, in fact? Almost the instant she woke up this morning, she’d had it in her mind to call her mother and tell her the news. It was like some kind of offering—a mouse she could lay at her mother’s feet. See there? I’m still the old Rebecca after all! “What does he look like?” her mother was asking. “Is he as good-looking as he used to

length of its spine and land in a metal saucer. Each marble was a slightly different size and rang out a different note on the scale: do, re, mi … From the saucer the marbles traveled through a convoluted tube and returned to their starting point, where they rolled down to land once again—do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, ti, DO!, over and over, delicate musical plinks! that could be heard, she belatedly realized, throughout the gym. What caused the marbles’ return, she couldn’t imagine. She was

Flick’s kitchen, though, because when Will opened his door, just off the second-floor landing, nothing but the cold gray scent of newspapers floated out to her. Gazing past him, she saw newspapers everywhere—stacks of them on the chairs, the tables, the windowsills, the floor. “Come in! Come in! Have a seat,” Will said, but there was nowhere to sit. He said, “Oh,” as if he’d just realized. “Here, I’ll …” He tore around the room, scooping up armloads of papers and piling them in a corner. “I keep

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