CARS FROM A MARRIAGE by Debra Galant
St. Martin's Press, April 27, 2010, 288 pages
Here is a novel guaranteed to liven up any barbecue or beach dinner party discussions you may have this summer—or book club get-togethers, for that matter. Cars from a Marriage is a book about relationships—a topic we are all experts on, but which we never seem to master. If you can corral a small herd of your friends and family—preferably, a coed mix—to read Cars from a Marriage, and then get them all together to analyze it—cocktails optional—you’ll be in for a late evening, a slew of strongly held opinions and plenty of fireworks.
The author uses an interesting prism to chronicle a marriage, as we witness the relationship through the cars the couple drives. Actually, the book is only minimally concerned with the cars, more so with the driving and really focuses on the marriage. The paradigm, though, is apt. I know I’m not alone in judging the health of relationships, starting with my parents and including my own, by how well a couple drives together—which partner does the driving, the critiques from the passenger seat, and how crises or emergencies are jointly handled. The latter usually occurs when the couple finds themselves lost (The ubiquity of GPS systems, although a marital saving grace, does confound my amateur Freudian relationship analysis.).
At the risk of belaboring my psychoanalytical metaphor, this book is a Rorschach test measuring the reader’s view of relationships—who you side with during the book’s spousal confrontations, which of the scenes resonate and how close to the bone the conflict cuts.
As for the storyline, Cars from a Marriage tracks the evolving relationship of Ivy and Ellis, with vignettes from their lives over a 20-year period—their first meeting in NYC, falling in love, marriage, meeting the in-laws, moving to the suburbs and parenthood—all with more than a few trying and marriage buster moments along the way. Many of the scenes occur while the two are inside a car. And similar to the saga of real-life relationships, the chapters progress from cute, quirky, idiosyncratic and even innocent to very serious and grave.
The author provides an interesting twist by telling the story interchangeably from either Ivy’s or Ellis’ perspective. As someone who has spent most of his life clueless as to what the female gender is actually thinking, I understand switching the narrative between the sexes is not easy. Although some of Ellis’ thoughts sounded a tad simplistic to me—I write hopefully—on the whole, most of his musings and quandaries rang true and the author does a good job getting inside the male psyche.
Now for the Rorschach test and my confession. Although Ellis plays much more than simply a supporting role, Ivy is the central character in this book—at least she was to me. And I did not like her—not at all. Going into specifics will spoil the book, but suffice it to say that I found Ivy overwhelmed and controlled by her own demons and unfortunately, rarely aware of it. She is never happy and—this is a major fault on my scorecard—has no sense of humor.
It seemed inconceivable to me that Ellis would marry Ivy, let alone stick with her. And then, of course, I looked around at the world we all live in and at the relationships/marriages I’ve experienced and encountered, and realized Cars from a Marriage is a very poignant, albeit not always happy, snapshot of marriage. So although Ivy confused, angered and frustrated me—I thoroughly enjoyed this novel—even while my teeth were clenched.
This is a relatively quick read, but the story and its characters will stick with you for a long time.
