海角大神

I love Curtis Sittenfeld鈥檚 writing so much that I鈥檇 be content to fill this review with her funny, insightful quotes about marriage, motherhood, and the perils of the smartphone-meets-social-media age. I love it so much that I follow her on Facebook so that, gratifyingly, I saw her geeking out after interviewing fellow St. Louis native Jon Hamm of "Mad Men" fame. I love it so much that I broke up with a boyfriend because he 鈥渓oathed鈥� her debut novel, "Prep"聽鈥� OK, I didn鈥檛 really, but I should have known the moment he slammed down the book (after one chapter!), asking disdainfully of the teenaged narrator, 鈥淵ou don鈥檛 relate to her, do you?鈥� Why, yes, I did (I do!) relate to Sittenfeld鈥檚 protagonists, as they stumble through the unspoken expectations for young women and the nearly invisible, yet intractable markers of class.

In You Think It, I鈥檒l Say It, Sittenfeld鈥檚 teenagers have grown into women navigating an openly hostile political landscape where, as one character says, 鈥渙ur country decided to elect an unhinged narcissist over an intelligent, experienced, qualified woman.鈥澛� In that story, 鈥淒o-Over,鈥� Sylvia invites her former classmate Clay to dinner while she鈥檚 in town on business. At their elite school, they tied in an election for senior prefect 鈥� 鈥渢he fancy term used for student body president鈥� 鈥� but after a run-off, their dean suggested Clay be prefect and Sylvia his assistant, a solution they accepted 鈥渜ualmlessly,鈥� at least in Clay鈥檚 memory. At dinner, he brings it up, acknowledging Sylvia was likely the real winner and apologizing 鈥� Trump鈥檚 election led to his revelation about the sexism of his appointment. (That his father was a trustee is a factor he doesn鈥檛 recognize.)聽 Clay鈥檚 expectation that Sylvia be appreciative of his apology and gracious about what it cost her unhinges her, derailing their evening. It鈥檚 a remarkable story, capturing the rage of some professional women in the wake of the election and the relative complacency of their male counterparts. Reading it is like watching a train wreck except, somewhere along the way, realizing you鈥檙e on it.聽

Sittenfeld is at her best where gender meets class, trafficking in the minor humiliations of fictional women who often self-sabotage, or at least overthink. Yet her stories are not polemical. Clay, for all his entitlement, is sympathetic, and Sylvia is as awkward and hostile as she is vulnerable; her pain is palpable, but so is her neediness. Which is all by way of saying that Sittenfeld鈥檚 characters are grown-ups, neither saints nor sinners. Instead, she shows how privilege can lead to 鈥渓ikability,鈥� whereas facing diffuse unverifiable biases can lead to a kind of petty insecurity.聽

In exploring the way a segment of middle-class women live now, Sittenfeld reveals problems that surface despite or, as often, because of their success. In 鈥淎 Regular Couple,鈥� a lawyer reflects on her new husband, 鈥渋f he were the one earning more money, as in a traditional couple, there were certain ways I鈥檇 probably defer to him, accommodations I鈥檇 make that he seemed either unconcerned with or unaware of: He did significantly less of the cooking, rarely sorted the mail, and never made our bed. He would do any of these things if I asked, but he didn鈥檛 do them, as if they didn鈥檛 need doing, as long as I didn鈥檛 ask.鈥澛�

Then there are the stay-at-home moms. In 鈥淭he Prairie Wife,鈥� one falls down the vortex of cyber-stalking a former friend-turned-celebrity; every night she intends to 鈥渇old laundry or call her mother, while actually [fooling] around on her phone.鈥� Another finds excitement playing a 鈥済ame,鈥� the titular 鈥淵ou Think It, I鈥檒l Say It,鈥� created by a fellow dad who encourages scathing observations of their friends. The gap between what we think and say 鈥� or between what we imagine others think and what they actually think 鈥� can be paper-thin, or wide as a gulf.

These insights may seem dark, but Sittenfeld鈥檚 writing is also terribly funny (her collection was just optioned for a TV series by Kristin Wiig, who is becoming somewhat of a purveyor of great contemporary women鈥檚 fiction, with her appearance in the 2014 film "Hateship Loveship," which was adapted from an Alice Munro short story.)

In one such moment, a newly pregnant journalist is asked by her editor:

鈥�Is this like an NYC single independent woman taking control of her fertility or an Indiana white trash baby mama [screw-up]:)

Good question, Nina had emailed back.鈥澛犅�

Later, when the babysitter texts incessantly that Nina鈥檚 six-month-old is crying, interrupting a potentially career-making interview, 鈥淭here is a part of Nina 鈥� say, 15 percent of her 鈥� that thinks For Christ鈥檚 sake, what am I paying you for?...聽Meanwhile the other 85 percent of Nina cannot bear listening to Kelsey Adams prattle while her daughter cries in the care of a seemingly incompetent stranger.鈥澛�

It鈥檚 comic, but it鈥檚 also commentary on the excruciating act of balancing a career with children in contemporary America.

If a few characters feel slightly too close to "Prep"'s narrator, that鈥檚 in part because social media has put us all back in the mindset of high school, where everyone else has glossier hair, cuter kids, and more glamorous vacations. It鈥檚 also because Sittenfeld specializes in awkwardness, a quality that may diminish after high school but never leaves us entirely.聽

Elizabeth Toohey is an assistant professor of English at Queensborough Community College (CUNY) and a regular contributor.