Clock Dance (2018)

I had some problems with this Anne Tyler novel but on balance liked it quite a bit, as much as anything she's written this century short of her last, Vinegar Girl. Willa is 61. Her life is amply sketched out in the first half, as she finds herself dispatched on an unlikely errand in Baltimore. She lives in Arizona with her semiretired second husband, who enjoys golf and conference calls, but most of the present-day events take place in Baltimore, as usual. Willa's husband is not around for much of it, except in glowering moments punctuating the action. Most of the men in Willa's life—her two husbands and her two sons—are unpleasant, good examples of how Tyler's work can be anything but gentle and quirky, even if her favorite characters tend to be so. The Baltimore neighborhood where Willa lands is full of them, and they are wonderful. But watching Willa come to terms with herself and her life, or start to, is the heart of the story, and it is full of sharp edges. All her loved ones and some of her new friends can be astonishingly callous. These excesses we are trained to forgive, but they hurt (Willa herself is almost pathological about seeking forgiveness, even when she's done nothing wrong). Tyler is here to tell us how they hurt. In a way, Clock Dance is perfectly typical of her—Baltimore, quirky folks, a lovable dog, etc.—but she's really got a potent grasp of Willa's ongoing existential crisis, which is many ways is all of ours. The novel is front-loaded with backstory, which slows the first half, though Tyler's writing is insanely warm and engaging as always. The second half is kind of a miracle of a balancing act, insisting on its unlikely premise and making it work. Much of the very real tension is about how long Willa (not Tyler) can keep things going. Not that long, it turns out—less than three weeks. At which point Tyler herself finally seems to flag, with an ending that leaves us pitched over the edge of momentum. It's a classic literary dodge, ambiguous and swift—the lady or the tiger, which do you choose? The fact that I want so badly to know more is testament to Tyler's skill, which I experienced as keen pleasure being in the company of Willa. She's puzzling, unusual, interesting. I want badly to see that next scene. Today I count that as one of my problems with the novel. Maybe down the line I'll appreciate Tyler's wisdom there too.

In case the library is closed due to pandemic.