Warenkorb

Wife M/tv Media Tie-In/e

A Novel

Now a major motion picture starring Glenn Close in her Golden Globe–winning role!

One of bestselling author Meg Wolitzer’s most beloved books—an “acerbically funny” (Entertainment Weekly) and “intelligent…portrait of deception” (The New York Times).

The Wife is the story of the long and stormy marriage between a world-famous novelist, Joe Castleman, and his wife Joan, and the secret they’ve kept for decades. The novel opens just as Joe is about to receive a prestigious international award, The Helsinki Prize, to honor his career as one of America’s preeminent novelists. Joan, who has spent forty years subjugating her own literary talents to fan the flames of his career, finally decides to stop.

Important and ambitious,
The Wife is a sharp-eyed and compulsively readable story about a woman forced to confront the sacrifices she’s made in order to achieve the life she thought she wanted. “A rollicking, perfectly pitched triumph…Wolitzer’s talent for comedy of manners reaches a heady high” (
Los Angeles Times), in this wise and candid look at the choices all men and women make—in marriage, work, and life.
Rezension
A New York Times Notable Book
Portrait
Wolitzer, Meg
Meg Wolitzer's novels include The Female Persuasion; Sleepwalking; This Is Your Life; Surrender, Dorothy; and The Position. She lives in New York City.
… weiterlesen
  • Artikelbild-0
  • The Wife Chapter One

    THE MOMENT I decided to leave him, the moment I thought, enough, we were thirty-five thousand feet above the ocean, hurtling forward but giving the illusion of stillness and tranquility. Just like our marriage, I could have said, but why ruin everything right now? Here we were in first-class splendor, tentatively separated from anxiety; there was no turbulence and the sky was bright, and somewhere among us, possibly, sat an air marshal in dull traveler's disguise, perhaps picking at a little dish of oily nuts or captivated by the zombie prose of the in-flight magazine. Drinks had already been served before takeoff, and we were both frankly bombed, our mouths half open, our heads tipped back. Women in uniform carried baskets up and down the aisles like a sexualized fleet of Red Riding Hoods.

    "Will you have some cookies, Mr. Castleman?" a brunette asked him, leaning over with a pair of tongs, and as her breasts slid forward and then withdrew, I could see the ancient mechanism of arousal start to whir like a knife sharpener inside him, a sight I've witnessed thousands of times over all these decades. "Mrs. Castleman?" the woman asked me then, in afterthought, but I declined. I didn't want her cookies, or anything else.

    We were on our way to the end of the marriage, heading toward the moment when I would finally get to yank the two-pronged plug from its holes, to turn away from the husband I'd lived with year after year. We were on our way to Helsinki, Finland, a place no one ever thinks about unless they're listening to Sibelius, or lying on the hot, wet slats of a sauna, or eating a bowl of reindeer. Cookies had been distributed, drinks decanted, and all around me, video screens had been arched and tilted. No one on this plane was fixated on death right now, the way we'd all been earlier, when, wrapped in the trauma of the roar and the fuel-stink and the distant, braying chorus of Furies trapped inside the engines, an entire planeload of minds-Economy, Business Class, and The Chosen Few-came together as one and urged this plane into the air like an audience willing a psychic's spoon to bend.

    Of course, that spoon bent every single time, its tip drooping down like some top-heavy tulip. And though airplanes didn't lift every single time, tonight this one did. Mothers handed out activity books and little plastic bags of Cheerios with dusty sediment at the bottom; businessmen opened laptops and waited for the stuttering screens to settle. If he was on board, the phantom air marshal ate and stretched and adjusted his gun beneath a staticky little square of Dynel blanket, and our plane rose in the sky until it hung suspended at the desired altitude, and finally I decided for certain that I would leave my husband. Definitely. For sure. One hundred percent. Our three children were gone, gone, gone, and there would be no changing my mind, no chickening out.

    He looked over at me suddenly, watched my face, and said, "What's the matter? You look a little . . . something."

    "No. It's nothing," I told him. "Nothing worth talking about now, anyway," and he accepted this as a good-enough answer, returning to his plate of Tollhouse cookies, a small belch puffing his cheeks out froglike, briefly. It was difficult to disturb this man; he had everything he could possibly ever need.

    He was Joseph Castleman, one of those men who own the world. You know the type I mean: those advertisements for themselves, those sleepwalking giants, roaming the earth and knocking over other men, women, furniture, villages. Why should they care? They own everything, the seas and mountains, the quivering volcanoes, the dainty, ruffling rivers. There are many varieties of this kind of man: Joe was the writer version, a short, wound-up, slack-
In den Warenkorb

Beschreibung

Produktdetails

Einband Taschenbuch
Seitenzahl 304
Erscheinungsdatum 24.07.2018
Sprache Englisch
ISBN 978-1-982110-76-5
Verlag Simon + Schuster
Maße (L/B/H) 18,8/10,3/2,2 cm
Gewicht 167 g
Buch (Taschenbuch, Englisch)
Buch (Taschenbuch, Englisch)
8,99
8,99
inkl. gesetzl. MwSt.
inkl. gesetzl. MwSt.
zzgl. Versandkosten
Versandfertig innerhalb 48 Stunden,  Kostenlose Lieferung ab 30  € Einkaufswert ,  Versandkostenfrei für Bonuscard-Kunden
Versandfertig innerhalb 48 Stunden
Kostenlose Lieferung ab 30  € Einkaufswert
Versandkostenfrei für Bonuscard-Kunden
In den Warenkorb
Vielen Dank für Ihr Feedback!
Entschuldigung, beim Absenden Ihres Feedbacks ist ein Fehler passiert. Bitte versuchen Sie es erneut.
Ihr Feedback zur Seite
Haben Sie alle relevanten Informationen erhalten?
Ihr Feedback ist anonym. Wir nutzen es, um unsere Produktseiten zu verbessern. Bitte haben Sie Verständnis, dass wir Ihnen keine Rückmeldung geben können. Wenn Sie Kontakt mit uns aufnehmen möchten, können Sie sich aber gerne an unseren Kundenservice wenden.

Kundenbewertungen

Es wurden noch keine Bewertungen geschrieben.