Wayward

Samantha Raymond cannot say what it was exactly that lead her to buy a house and to move out of the suburban comfort zone with her husband Matt and their teenage daughter Ally. Maybe Trump’s election, maybe the feeling of menopause hitting her or just the fact that she spends her nights awake pondering about her life and all that is connected to it: motherhood, mortality and the country she lives in. Via the Internet, she connects with some radical women whose notions are new to her. But sorting out her new life also means getting more and more away from her old life and her daughter. Has she ever been a good mom? Didn’t she do all that was necessary to bring Ally up? And what did she use her one life for actually?

In her novel show more “Wayward”, Dana Spiotta portrays a woman at a crucial point of her life. She made some decisions that now come under scrutiny. It is not only the outer, visible elements of her life but much more her inner convictions that have to stand the test. Her first move sets in motion a chain of events that bring her further away from all she has known for so many years and it remains to be seen where this will lead her.

What I liked most was the combination of metaphors the author uses. The old house that Sam finds and is attracted to immediately mirrors her body. Just like the cosy new home, life also has left traces on her body. Just like she renovates the house, she starts to train to get stronger. However, all the renovation cannot hide that the years have left their marks on it and some things simply cannot be redone.

Just as she analyses her complicated relationship with her own mother and also with her daughter, she analyses the state the country is in. The opposing parts become obvious through the segregation between the white and better-off parts of town and her new place which is quite the opposite. Coming from a protected life, she is now confronted with crime which has always been a reality for other parts of society, but not the suburban housewives she has known for so long.

The novel has a clear feminist perspective. Sam volunteers at a small museum that was the home of a 19th century feminist who ignored societal constraints and followed her ideals, also Sam’s mother is an independent woman, whereas she herself had given in to a life that she now is running from. Her daughter also tries to rebel against Sam’s life choices and wants to free herself - in her very own way. All women make choices that have consequences, all woman have to decide between conformity and rebellion, they want their life to be meaningful – but what does that mean and what is the price for it?

An interesting read from a point of view that is slowly expanded to show the bigger picture. show less

I couldn't put it down-- the descriptions of the marital disconnect, the impulsive rightness of a totally different life path, all of it was pitch perfect in the moments the story focused on the central protagonist. Reading through the negative reviews, it seems women will always be condemned --or called spoiled and self-indulgent-- for making audacious independent choices.

Sam is a middle-aged, comfortably-off woman living in a suburb of Syracuse, New York. She has a job, but the hours and pay mean it's almost volunteer work, giving tours of the house of a local suffragette. Her daughter is in the middle of college applications and extracurricular involvement in an entrepreneurial student group and her husband loves her but doesn't really pay attention to her when she's talking. Then she tours an open house for a run down arts and crafts home in a blighted neighborhood and falls in love. As she puts down earnest money, she realizes that she's leaving her husband for a house.

As someone who has, upon occasion, browsed Zillow for run-down Victorian houses and craftsman bungalows, I was all in with the show more opening chapter. And I've loved a previous book of Dana Spiotta's, the wonderful Innocents and Others. Spiotta writes complex, problematic women so well. But as this book went on, I liked it less. Partly, it's the setting - the US in the aftermath of Trump's election, and partly it's how Sam isn't ever portrayed as complex so much as she is just annoying and self-involved. This isn't a bad book, so much as it is ham-fisted. Maybe I need more time before I'm ready for a novel about the Trump years and maybe this just isn't Spiotta's best. show less

As a woman of similar age to the main character in this novel, in this era, I could understand much of what she was going through. The questioning of life, of how to live, of choices made, of trying to be true and sincere, and having things backfire... of changing perceptions that middle-aged women face and endure and accommodate.

As an aside, I really enjoyed the setting of this book (Syracuse, NY, a city I have never visited) and the local history and lore she weaves into the story.

Sam is a woman my age who makes an impulse buy - a house. An adorable old house in the middle of Syracuse; she will live there alone. I.e., she will leave her husband. For the house. For the chance to live in this lovable house alone.

Intrigued by this appealing dream-I-will-never-actually-live, I picked up this novel eagerly, but was disappointed. Sam is just so unlikeable. I mean, I'm unlikeable too, but she is super vitriolic, self-pitying, and self-aware only to the extent that she realizes she's self-pitying and it makes her more self-pitying. C'mon, I'm not THIS bad, am I?

Also, it turned out to be heavy on the mother-daughter stuff that doesn't interest me.

My weird predilections aside, being as objective as I can be, I think the show more book really does suffer from its central character's unlikability, and weird digressive way of wrapping things up. Thumbs down. show less

I had a somewhat mixed reaction to this. On one hand, Sam's dissatisfaction with married, suburban life now that her role as mother has been cast off by her teenage daughter is very authentic. But her reactions, involvements with fringe groups, weight lifting, etc. are just absurd, rather than comic, as I believe they are intended. I would just lose patience with the ramble into eccentric fixations. On the other hand, the overall structure, flipping POV between mother and daughter, made for interesting parallels about being "Wayward." Even the grandmother, Lilly, is wayward in her unwillingness to behave as might have been expected in the face of her illness. The historic character added another, unexpected dimension. The Clara Loomis show more the reader and main character knows from the historic home is quite different from the character revealed by her journals. It poses the question, "you think you know someone." show less

This is basically a story about mothers and daughters and how they find their way on their own, mistakes and flaws and all. It starts out as if it is a light humorous take on a middle aged woman liberating herself from her boring suburban life. But then it gets more real, somewhat depressing, but also honest and then ultimately ends not being depressing at all. I like how the characters are flawed. All of them. And yet everything turns out… fine. And that’s good enough