“Q: Why couldn’t the Buddhist vacuum in corners?
A: Because she had no attachments,”
Don’t be misled by the slim size—this novel packs an emotional wallop. Offill writes in a collage style: she feeds us pieces of a story, compact chunks with both smooth and rough edges, letting readers fill in the gaps.
“The wife” charms us with her whimsical midnight brainstorm to write American-style fortunes: “Objects create happiness; The animals are pleased to be of use; Death will not tough you.” She challenges us with mental exercises pillaged from science, philosophy and religion:“…Courtesy of the Stoics. If you are tired of everything you posses, imagine you have lost all of these things.” We become “the wife,” her profound truths melding with our own.
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