Dinnertime

I read Anne Tyler’s Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant for two reasons. One, my roommate owns it, so I didn’t even have to go to the library before beginning, and two, Nick Hornby said that after reading her novel he decided he wanted to be an author. I already would like to be an author, but, since I really didn’t care for much that I read in October, I thought that duo would really be the thing.

It was. Although I found Anne Tyler’s characters to be just as desperate as Joyce Carol Oates’, their lives somehow seem less bleak. There’s none of the ‘side-splitting’ laughter that I get from Nick Hornby, but I feel that at least the family had half a shot. I really enjoyed the length of time that the characters experienced, realizing that nothing sorts itself out too quickly, but despite your perspective you can live through a fair amount of any situation. There’s just enough lift that even so late in the game, the opportunity to correct one’s vision is possible.

Incidentally, anything I can think to say about this book would just give it away. I keep finding myself doing a mental outline of the course of events. Well, reading will get that across. So, what am I left to determine? The plot is really swift-moving. The characters are full and true to themselves, whether or not true to anyone else. This is really profound, that even the periphery characters don’t budge from what they say and believe and do. There are no wishy-washy add-ons to make a point. Even the most insecure of the group stick to their insecurity or find a new way, have a turning point. Every single person is distinct and discovers a path. It’s a beautiful and engrossing story.