Peter Taylor (1) (1917–1994)

A very strange thing happened while reading this book. I took it on a trip to New York, and upon returning home, I forgot about it completely and started reading something else. A few weeks later, I started thinking about Stone Mountain (Georgia) and recalling a scene set there that I had read in a novel. It took me a few seconds to remember which book. Once I did, I struggled to try to remember how the book ended. I even checked LibraryThing to see if I had written a review, which I do for show more every book I finish. There was none. I found the book in one of my several computer bags and started reading where I left off. Despite the passage of time, the story was still quite clear in my head. Perhaps this is the difference between a work of "serious fiction" and the types of novel I usually read. In those novels, mostly mysteries, there are events galore, but they tend to run together and be forgotten. They are contrived to create a puzzle that can be solved. Real life isn't like that, and neither is A Summons to Memphis.

The story moves slowly-at least the part taking place in the present. A son, Philip Carver, living in New York as a collector and seller of antiquarian books, is called back to Memphis by his two older, spinster sisters who are trying to prevent their 81-year old father from remarrying. But neither that trip nor subsequent ones goes as planned. The novel defies your expectations about plot, and you realize it is a book, like so many great Southern novels, about history and family and place-all magnified and distorted through the son's resentment of his father for uprooting the family from Nashville to Memphis, then later stopping his plans to marry the girl he met on Stone Mountain. As the son's relationship with his father evolves through the present-day scenes in the novel, the real story of forgetting and forgiving that is the book's center is told.

If a great book requires great events or a cast of thousands, this is not a great book. But if a great book is judged on its telling details about a small number of characters, details that ring true even if those fictional lives are far from our own, then perhaps A Summons to Memphis is a great book. It is these small details that linger with us, such as Philip Carver's dismissal of his friend Alex Mercer's idea near the end of the book, or of Alex's own close relationship with Philip's father, begun in childhood, but extending through the years when Philip was living in New York. So many great books hinge on the honest portrayal of the relationship between and among family and friends. In this quiet, reflective novel, Peter Taylor has shone a light into the lives, pent-up frustrations, and (I think) the ultimate failure of this family to ever honestly come to grips with its feelings about one another. Each has lived his or her life in a way to send messages to the others about their feelings and resentments but has never managed to speak about them openly. In the end, everyone gets what they deserve, and only the portion of happiness they have allowed themselves to have.

As I wrote this review and reflected more on what lingered and what it all meant, I added a half star to my LibraryThing review (making it 4 ½ stars). This is a book that demands the reader give it a little more thought and consideration than it at first appears to require. I suspect its implications will continue to linger with me. show less

This was a recommendation from a book seller who knew of my love for [[William Gay]]. The stories, indeed set in the South and somewhat Gothic in nature, are well-written and expansive; Taylor knows how to take his time and let a story breath. But, if I had to pick a word to describe all of the work, it would be claustrophobic. Every story is told from one of the character's perspectives, most in first-person, and they establish a particular confining feeling from the telling. The stories show more are good, just not my taste.

3 bones!!! show less

Ostensibly, A Summons to Memphis is about an adult son being called home by his older sisters to prevent the marriage of his eighty-one year old widower father. The pace for the book, particularly the beginning, is a slow one, reminding one of a soft Southern drawl, and it is essential that the reader is paying attention to all the subtle nuances of meaning laid between what the narrator says and where the truth actually lies.

The circumstances of his father’s old-age rebellion against the show more control of the sisters, causes Phillip, our narrator, to re-examine his life, the character of his father, and the impact of his fathers decisions upon the family at large. As he begins to see the prevention of the marriage as an act of revenge by the sisters, he begins to reconstruct the origin of the complicated relationship all these children share with their sometimes overbearing and always self-consumed father.
Initially, it is hard to muster much sympathy for Phillip, this fully grown man who seems to operate from such a cold center, but as the book progresses, we begin to see him more clearly and how he has been shaped by the events of his life: the original abrupt move to Memphis from Nashville, the separation from his first and perhaps only love, the usurping of his place in his father’s life by his own best friend, Alex Mercer. Along with his own revelations, we begin to see the sisters more clearly as well, the sacrifices they have made for a father, who possessed more than loved them, and their need to prevent the disruption of this relationship by the admission of any new dynamic, let along a new wife.

I seems to me that Taylor’s interest here is family connections and how individuals inside the circle are affected by one another. In bending to their father’s will, the mother and the children are shaped and reshaped into some lesser version of who they were or who they could have been. The older brother, Georgie, is so anxious to escape that he joins the armed forces and puts himself in the midst of a conflict from which he never returns. Phillip’s relationship with his father, with Alex, and with his live-in girlfriend, Holly, are all affected by Phillip’s early experiences and his changing perceptions of who his father is.

The saddest part of this, for me, was the fact that Phillip never shares any of his feelings with anyone in his life. He pretends to feel as Holly does about the father situation, he never discusses anything of import with the sisters, he holds Alex at an arm’s length and drops him completely after the death of his father, and he never sits down and tells his father how he feels. He buries all his feelings as deeply as he can, even giving up his claim to have once loved someone, in the end.

When I initially finished the book, I was wondering whether I believed it merited a Pulitzer. After a little reflection, I decided it was one of those books that seems to have a simple story, that could never be said to be plot driven, and that appears to only scratch the surface of its characters, but when you keep thinking about it, you realize you are peeling the layers away, like the skin of an onion, and there is a great deal of substance underneath. show less

The premise of the book — "It's about men who disappear" — is intriguing, if somewhat elusive. Overnight, and as I write this, it seems to me that it's about those who disappear from family, friends and their worlds, but, rather, those who never appear to themselves. Nathan Longfort gives us the narrative of his life, beginning with the funeral procession by slow train of his grandfather from DC to TN, introducing us to all of his family tree ... including Aubrey. It's Aubrey's death at show more the end — clearly the end of something — along with Nathan's son Brax's coming of age as an artist that ultimately defines Nathan as someone he didn't quite become. But perhaps we don't define ourselves individually; perhaps we are defined by all of those around us ... show less