A review by remlezar
The Position by Meg Wolitzer

5.0

I've read four of Wolitzer's books now. Just like the other three (The Female Persuasion, The Interestings, and The Wife), The Position an incredible piece of work.

One of Wolitzer's powers is her ability to make the characters feel so plausibly real. When her characters fall in love, it's electric. When they cheat on one another, it's heart breaking. When one gets sick, it's terrifying. The lives of these characters could be my friends and family, or they could be me. The situations are believable, the reactions true. It's impressive, moving, and occasionally, devastating.

The way Wolitzer writes about the passage of time and our connections to physical objects is one of my favorite things about her writing. Take this short quote:

Roz closed her eyes for a moment, and then she let them fly open, wanting to be surprised all over again at the way Jack had sifted through their things and ordered them while she was gone. She also wanted to look more closely at all the things they had gathered over time, or that had incidentally gathered around them. It seemed that Roz Mellow was looking at time itself now, which had somehow expanded so greatly that it had managed to fill every closet and room and hallway of this house.


I don't generally consider myself sentimental in regards to the stuff that I own, but sometimes I do think about the objects in my life - cars, books, DVDs, games, clothes, etc., and think about the stories behind them, and the choices that led to them ending up in my day to day life. These choices often seem inconsequential - What color should we paint the bedroom? What couch should we buy? What painting should we hang on the wall? - but how you respond to all these tiny silly situations shapes the world you live in, and that world is all you will ever truly know, and that counts for something, at least to you.

The mug I drink my coffee from doesn't mean anything by itself, but where it came from certainly does. Maybe it's one of the first mugs my wife and I ever picked out together for our house, maybe it's a souvenir from a memorable trip, maybe it was handed down to me from my parents when I first moved out, or, maybe we just bought it one afternoon aimlessly wandering around Target. No matter how it ended up in my life, it did, and here it is. And maybe I'll break it, and it will be gone forever, or maybe I'll keep it until the day that I die, and it will be donated to a thrift store, where someone else will buy it, and it will become part of their story.

Wolitzer captures the wonder of this kind of ordinary in a way that is truly special. The mixed reception for this book makes it obvious that not everyone feels the same way I do, but I am supremely grateful that I discovered her writing. She makes me think about the lives of the people around me more often and with more empathy, and she makes me think about my life in ways that I never have.

As I always do when I read Wolitzer, I highlighted quite a few passages as I read, but I'll leave just one more here that I think illustrates her power.

They thought briefly of their children, as all parents do, picturing a scene of laughter and drinking and jokes with cultural references that neither Roz nor Paul would understand, for references had changed, and jokes had changed, and after a certain age it was just impossible to keep up, and then after a while you didn’t want to try, but left the new references to the newer people and simply kept thinking about the old references, the names from past decades that still rang inside you.