Spoiler Alert: I will have a hard time veiling the central plot twist of this novel, so reader, be warned. Every effort will be made in that regard.

All of Meg Wolitzer's choices in this tale of Joan and Joe Castleman's marriage are interesting, painful, and at times, agonizing. Our narrator is Joan, as it really is her story, "The Wife": how she met her future husband Joe, as student to his teacher, a young married, new father and instructor of her creative writing class at Smith; the seduction of student by teacher, what she was later to learn was habitual behavior on his part; his writing career and her primary duty of supporting that, as well as mother of his children; and finally, publicly admiring spouse, on display at readings, awards dinners, and any other time audience was called for. You know from page one that something else is going on here-- Joan knows how to tell a story and keep her audience captivated, after all. Rich irony from the start. You will know all along, but be loathe to admit, what Joan is really sharing in this story, right to the bitter end.

We know from the start that Joan has sacrificed her own writing career to support Joe's; his attraction to her is in part based on his great admiration of her ability. We see the dreadful deal she has made--the misogynist male club of authors and the sexism and cheating that their wives endure, the sacrifice of wives' careers to the male author's lonely pursuit of creating literature. If this were the nature of her sacrifice, it would be awful, but all too common. Male authors were making such demands since forever--read about Charles Dickens and his wife sometime.

What vexes me is, why? I realize her encounter with the female author while at Smith was pivotal for Joan; she saw her future as a female author to be one of obscurity, that the guys would never let her into the boys' club of success regardless of the quality of her work, and she would end up a bitter, lonely spinster with a string of out-of-print novels to show for her efforts. Don't believe this only happened in the fifties--long before and long after, women subjugate themselves, in the name of being a good wife and mother, to sacrificing personal ambitions of all sorts. Joan allowed herself to be fooled into believing that Joe had talent, even in the face of evidence to the contrary. She read his early effort, and saw how shallow and insufficient it was. Did she really believe that their shared recognition and love for great literature would carry them along? Or that such would provide the spark for his successful generation of such work? That seems naive for such an intelligent young woman, but insecurity can make us believe strange things.

A quick word about tone: Wolitzer is masterful at creating an ironic, sardonic, self-mocking voice for Joan. It is very amusing, but has an important purpose-- Joan has almost given away any chance for an intellectually fulfilling life, and is very bitter about that. I think she blamed Joe for a long time, but finally had to come to grips with the realization that she crafted and maintained the artifice that is their lives. She had as much agency as did Joe, and she has to dispense with the blaming in order to claim her chance, and take the risks needed to step forward herself, create, and publicly put her work forward.

When we decide to do a terrible thing, it often happens in small steps--we agree to this small act, that minor concession, until we find ourselves doing things we never dreamed we'd agree to, and years, or even decades can elapse, until it is almost too late to walk it back, or make a better choice. Such is the bargain Joan makes. We are left hanging--will she honor her talent, and courageously step into the arena? I think the reader will root for Joan in the end. She nearly threw away all opportunity for the recognition she deserved, but fate saw fit to grant her one more chance, if she has the courage to seize it. I still cannot reconcile my question of why? Why did she agree to engage in that level of self-denial? Much to discuss and debate with this book--book clubs should love it. I know I did.