Ordinary People

A deeply moving, thoughtful book, Ordinary People takes a brutally close look at the dynamics of a family coping with the loss of a child. Conrad, the surviving child, struggles with his own guilt and pain by attempting suicide and has just been released from a mental hospital. Calvin, the father, feels as if he has let down both his sons and suddenly feels uncertain, reeling from the fact that he could not protect his own family. Finally, there is Beth, the mother, who comes across as cold and aloof to even her own family, and struggles with finding out that not everything in the world can be perfect and controlled.

Richly drawn, each of the characters feels real and three-dimensional. Conrad is by turns a normal, sarcastic teenager, a show more kid wracked with guilt over his brother's death, and a little boy who doesn't know where to go from here. His grief can be heartbreaking to read, but his desperate attempts to hide it are even more so.

The true stand-out, however, is the mother. Beth is a mystery. While Guest often allows us into Cal's and Conrad's minds, we never see Beth's thoughts, only the perceptions filtered through others' eyes. Much of what she does is up to interpretation: is she truly cold and emotionally unavailable? Or is she simply coping with her loss by trying to ignore it?

If you have ever seen the equally astounding film directed by Robert Redford and starring Timothy Hutton, then you'll find that the screenplay was remarkably faithful to the book; however, I would argue that the book has slightly more nuances with regard to Beth's character.

I am not normally a fan of dramas, but this is one of the most engrossing, oftentimes painful, books I have ever read. show less

I watched the movie when it came out, and loved it. I particularly admired the performances of Mary Tyler Moore and Timothy Hutton. I had the book for a few years and finally decided I'd read it. Honestly, I thought I'd run through it quickly because it isn't large, and I could release one more book into the wild.

It's a modern classic. The story of 17-year-old Conrad Jarret coming to grips with the sudden death of his older brother is, in a way, a coming-of-age story. He isn't the only one growing, however.

Conrad is home from a stay at a psychiatric hospital, where he'd been taken after trying to commit suicide. He is far from "cured", and both of his parents are aware that he's not the same boy he was before his brother's death. While show more his father struggles to find a way to help him, his mother doesn't seem able to grasp that he even needs help. She thinks her husband coddles him. She is uptight and concerned with appearances. Having a child in psychiatric care is not seemly and should not be discussed with others.

Conrad is a good kid. He wants to do the right things, get those straight As again, do well on the swim team, but he finds it hard to care. He becomes more and more withdrawn, until he follows his father's suggestion to see a psychiatrist, Dr. Berger.

The psychiatrist is a laid-back guy who relies on instinct, which seems to be what Con needs. Gradually he helps Con see himself differently, see others differently. The strain of having this troubled teen in the house, however, pulls at the fabric of the marriage.

I think what makes this book a success is the truth in it. Truth that many of us recognize. I could relate to this boy's feelings about himself because I've had them too. I could also relate to his father's sense of loss and lack of control. Even the hard-hearted mother deserves a little attention.

Am I too much a child of the sixties and seventies? Is the shrink savior an outmoded character now? I don't personally think so but I wonder if others do. I am too close to it. I can't help thinking of Good Will Hunting, though. There is much of the same atmosphere here. show less

A profoundly moving, thoughtful book, Ordinary People takes a brutally close look at the dynamics of a family coping with the loss of a child. Conrad, the surviving child, struggles with his guilt and pain by attempting suicide and has just been released from a mental hospital. Calvin, the father, feels as if he has let down both his sons and suddenly feels uncertain, reeling from the fact that he could not protect his family. Finally, Beth, the mother, comes across as cold and aloof to her family and struggles to discover that not everything can be perfect and controlled.

Richly drawn, each of the characters feels real and three-dimensional. Conrad is, by turn, a typical, sarcastic teenager, a kid wracked with guilt over his brother's show more death, and a little boy who doesn't know where to go from here. His grief can be heartbreaking to read, but his desperate attempts to hide it are even more so.

The true stand-out, however, is the mother. Beth is a mystery. While Guest often allows us into Cal's and Conrad's minds, we never see Beth's thoughts; only the perceptions are filtered through others' eyes. Much of what she does is up to interpretation: is she truly cold and emotionally unavailable? Or is she simply coping with her loss by trying to ignore it?

If you have ever seen the equally astounding film directed by Robert Redford and starring Timothy Hutton, then you'll find that the screenplay was remarkably faithful to the book; however, the book has slightly more nuances about Beth's character.

I am not usually a fan of dramas, but this is one of the most fascinating, often painful, books I have ever. show less

I wish I had the skill to truly analyze what makes the difference between a book where the author tries to manipulate the reader’s emotions and only gets an “hmm how sad” from me, or worse, eyerolls, and a book that has me glued to the pages and leaking tears. All I know is that this is one of the latter.

In spite of a story that is almost all character, with almost all events taking place within those characters’ thoughts and emotions and in their interactions with one another, and in spite of a present-tense, stream of consciousness writing style that might have annoyed me in another author’s hands, this story of a family fragmenting and reforming in the aftermath of tragedy absorbed me completely and wrung my emotions show more inside out. It’s been a while since I had a good cry over a book, and it was deeply satisfying.

Vintage paperback, picked up from my public library’s gimme shelves, where they make unusable donated books and culled books available to the public in return for a suggested monetary donation.

I read this for The 16 Tasks of the Festive Season, square 4: Book themes for Penance Day: Read a book that has a monk, nun, pastor / preacher or priest as a protagonist, or where someone is struggling with feelings of guilt or with their conscience (regardless over what). In this book, members of a family are struggling with their sense of guilt or failed responsibility in the aftermath of tragedy (Con over surviving when his stronger brother drowned and Cal over somehow failing his son when he attempted suicide). show less

This book was one of those "multiple copies at the used-book store, so it's either great or terrible" chances. On the one hand, a bigger chance than usual: that bland, uninformative cover wouldn't pass muster today (yet I like it now that I've read the book). On the other hand, it shouldn't be a chance at all: the accolades all over the front and back promise this to be a novel I'll "rejoice" over, "a writer's novel, a reader's novel, a critic's novel," and of course the highbrow-wannabe in me couldn't say no to that. Not for a dollar, anyway. I went into this expecting a literary grandmother of Anna Quindlen; happily, that's what I got. ORDINARY PEOPLE is indeed about its titular cast, and the stakes of the novel are personal/internal show more stakes. The perspective alternates between Cal Jarrett, a successful tax attorney, and his son Conrad, eighteen years old and recently come home from a mental hospital. The reader soon discovers that Cal and his wife Beth "had two sons, but now they have one." What happened to their other son, Buck, is of course revealed bit-by-bit throughout the story.

The author's voice took some time to immerse in, but there's something almost hypnotic about the stream-of-consciousness style. (And I was not expecting present tense from a novel published in 1976. Interesting.) Cal frustrates me to no end, but Conrad makes me root for him. Some of the book's best scenes feature Con and his therapist Berger, as together they unravel what led to Con's suicide attempt and how he can heal. Beth, too, is an interesting character, especially as we only get to see her through her husband's and son's eyes.

This is a thoughtful, quiet, probing novel about things that have been explored since fiction began (living and surviving, guilt and innocence, facades and true selves). It took me a while to get through, partly because it's not about plot escalation--or escalation at all, really. It's about living life every day, even when only surviving is easier. I'm glad I took the time for this book. (Now to watch the film.) show less

This is a comforting read. It's drily funny, and all the characters feel real (with the exception of Dr. Berger, maybe...). Conrad is like a close friend you'd like to throttle for being so stuck in his head. It's best read when one is young, I think. Gift it to your gloomy niece/nephew? That being said, Calvin's perspective resonates with older readers, too. Trying to take responsibility for someone when nobody had taken responsibility for you... and if you are enlightened (!), you will understand (and maybe even love) Beth.

this is a really nice look at what seems to be a typical wealthy american family. from the outside, they seem to be "ordinary people" but a lot is going on inside the family that others can't see. it's really kind of a meditation on grief and living after devastating loss, and the different ways different people handle that and cope with it. the style can be a bit tough, as it's told from the perspective of both conrad (the son) and cal (the father) and it goes back and forth between them in a way that is kind of jarring. con's sections are often a little hard to follow, as well, because he is going through a mental health crisis and the writing can feel unmoored. this reflects what's going on with him, though, so it makes sense.

i liked show more this and found myself very much within the story. the only real complaint i have is the way the therapist spoke with conrad. he never would have said some of the things he said (that he thought of con as a friend, for example) and in a book where everything else felt very real, this took me out of the story a couple of times. otherwise, very nicely done. show less