Alana Estelle

Last March I posted about how I’m fascinated by the topic of adultery in literature, after reading Madam Bovary and Anna Karenina. As I said in that post, I’ll be circling back to this theme from time to time as it’s a topic that is rather common. The question that mainly came to mind was, “What is the difference between how men and women write about adultery? 

Since last spring, I’ve read quite a few books that either feature an adulterous relationship or briefly mention one. Here, I’ve selected four books that raise interesting questions. 

Stoner by, John Williams - Stoner’s marriage is a massive flop and he develops a relationship with a woman at the university in which they both work. Stoner’s life is incredibly melancholy and this brief relationship is one of his only moments of happiness. As a reader, I was incredibly sympathetic towards Stoner and this created an interesting internal tension between his infidelity and his need for someone who truly understands him. 

Someone at a Distance by, Dorothy Whipple - I adore Whipple’s writing and her novels I’ve read thus far. Someone at a Distance is from a wife’s perspective and how destructive adultery is to the family. Her husband is unfaithful to her with a young women and Whipple expertly writes how this family falls apart at the seams. As much as I really disliked what the husband did to this family, through his actions, Whipple made it so that I still wanted this family to work it out. Whipple’s novel also reminds one that no one is immune to situations like this - no matter how happy the family was initially. 

The Odyssey by, Homer- This is an interesting one, because Odysseus is being help captive, against his will, by Calypso. Odysseus longs to get back home to his wife and son, but Calypso’s desire for him technically results in unfaithfulness against his wife. It’s evident that Odysseus does not like being with Calypso and doesn’t have much choice in the matter; Homer gives us images go Odysseus crying and looking out at the sea. Can he really be blamed in this situation when he’s own free will is pretty much non-existent? 

The Weather in the Streets by, Rosamond Lehmann - I just reviewed this a book a few posts ago. Olivia Spencer and Rollo, who is married, begin an adulterous relationship and Lehmann excellently evokes a subtle sense of paranoia throughout the novel. Lehmann doesn’t make excuses for people’s behavior; she’s writing realistically about things that happen and the complexities of relationships and the consequences of the decisions that people make. Like with Stoner, I felt an internal tension because Olivia and Rollo work as a couple, but infidelity is infidelity, plain and simple. 

All of this being said, it continues to fascinate me how complex and interesting adultery in narratives can be. I have noticed that when women write about it, there is a heavier focus on the detriment it does to the family unit and how these women do their best to fight for their marriages. Lehmann’s character Olivia really portrays the emotional turmoil these types of relationship have, even on the mistress. In short, with women, one could argue a more significant focus on the domestic. One does not have to agree with a character’s action to sympathize. In Stoner, we see a man who is so utterly unhappy, in a way we can over look that he’s being unfaithful to his wife and we are more compelled to give him a “pass.” Actually in a lot of the novels focusing on the male, written by the male, the male is incredibly unhappy in his marine. Lehmann actually portrays this with Rollo very well. 

Have you noticed any interesting features in these types of narratives and a difference between how men and women write about them, beyond how narratives like Anna Karenina and Madam Bovary show the hypocrisy between how men and women are treated, who do the same thing. Do you ever feel a bit awkward for rooting for a character or a relationship that is morally wrong? 

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“…he thought he could feel the blood flowing invisibly through the tiny veins and arteries, throbbing delicately and precariously from his fingertips through his body.”

Stoner by, John Williams has claimed one of the covetous slots as one of my favorite novels. Reading this story is like drifting in and out of dream; Stoner’s introverted and sad life is evocative and relatable, yet elusive. Williams’ prose is ethereal; direct and descriptive, but somehow languid. 

This is a novel about loneliness, introversion, depression, existentialism, and hope deferred. We’ve all experienced having a dream and then that hard, sinking feeling when life doesn’t measure up to our expectations.

“He had dreamed of a kind of integrity, of a purity that was entire; he had found compromise and the assaulting diversion of triviality. He had conceived wisdom, and at the end of the long years he had found ignorance. And what else? he thought. What else? What did you expect? he asked himself.”

This is a novel about how one becomes jaded, as life progresses; it’s inevitable. The more life one experiences, the more one has to face the grotesque. 

I cannot rave about Stoner enough and I can’t stop thinking about it. This is a novel about the average life; the seemingly unexceptional life that doesn’t leave a mark on the world, once it leaves. However, these nondescript souls are important; they tell the tale of the common threads of life we can all relate to: love, grief, death, hope, and feeling insignificant in a world that is out of our control. Stoner exemplifies the human condition.  This is a novel that should be read and then re-read through one’s life. It ages like fine wine. 

Rating: 5/5. 

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I first read Stoner by, John Williams exactly seven years ago. I remember liking it then, but at the time I just kind of coasted through it without being blown away. I’m halfway through and I have to say that this novel is a force to behold. 

Stoner is a story about William Stoner, a man who forgoes being a farmer to pursue academia at the University of Missouri. He’s not a remarkable man; he’s ordinary, quiet and unassuming. Williams weaves together the story of Stoner’s life in a way that showcases how the mundane is important. 

 This is an existential novel; Stoner is on a path of self-discovery and his life as a student and then professor of literature is what defines him. However, Stoner’s existential crisis is that his internal brilliance does not fully manifest outwardly; he’s constantly experiencing a discord between himself and the world around him. Many times, he cannot get his physical body to respond to his mind. 

“…he heard his own flat voice reciting the materials he had prepared, and nothing of his own excitement came through that recitation.” 

I constantly feel Stoner’s loneliness and inability to truly connect with the people and the world around him. His marriage is a failure (Edith is infuriating), his relationship with his parents is shallow and even at the university, Stoner always seems to be looking in from the outside. 

Williams frequently alludes that Stoner’s shoulders continue to stoop, though he’s is not an old man. I love this image; it harkens back to Stoner’s existential crisis and how his physical and mental selves are not on one accord, just like how he can’t seem to fully connect with the world around him. 

William’s writing is stunning; simple yet evocative, with beautiful descriptions. The only way I can really describe what it’s like to his prose is to say that it’s like moving in slow motion; time seems to stand still and I get lost in Stoner’s world of introversion, academia and loneliness. I feel as if I can’t decipher Stoner from the physical world around me; I’m so engrossed in his reality and when I put the book aside, I realize that life has somehow occurred around me. Gorgeous. 

Stoner is already on the path to being one of my top reads of the year and it may be squeezing itself into my “Top Novels” list. 

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