Anne Tyler’s 25th novel, “Three Days in June,” is a valentine to readers. It’s funny and touching. The story features a divorced couple thrown together by their daughter’s wedding – one ex-spouse is incorrigibly spontaneous, the other rigid – plus an old, overweight rescue cat. This may be Tyler lite, not as complex as “A Spool of Blue Thread” or “French Braid,” but there isn’t a wrong move in it. It’s the literary equivalent of a box of chocolates with no duds.
The novel, like a well-made play, spans three acts: the day before, the day of, and the day after the wedding of Debbie, Max and Gail Baines’ only child. The Baineses have been divorced for 21 years, and we eventually learn why.
The narrator is 61-year-old Gail, whom no one would ever call easygoing. Her day, which will end with the rehearsal dinner, gets off to a bad start when her boss calls her into her office. Marilee is headmistress of a private girls’ school in Baltimore where Gail has been assistant head for 11 years. Gail is enraged to learn that she’s being passed over for promotion when Marilee retires at the end of the year. Marilee tries to reason with her: “Face it: this job is a matter of people skills. … And surely you’ll be the first to admit that social interactions have never been your strong point.”
Why We Wrote This
Any novel that encourages us to see beyond our own and others’ flaws is welcome. Even more important is the book that shows how extending grace can improve relationships with loved ones.
Gail storms off in a huff. She is also miffed about missing her daughter’s “Day of Beauty,” set up by the groom’s mother, even though she had never before heard of such a thing. In fact, the last time Gail went to a hairdresser, she was in high school.
She heads home to stew in the small house she moved into after her divorce. But who should show up but her former husband, over from Delaware’s Eastern Shore for the weekend’s nuptial events, lugging a duffel bag and pet carrier. Here’s how Tyler introduces him, through the eyes of his ex-wife: “Max was nowhere near fat, but he was weighty, broad-shouldered; he always gave the impression of taking up more than his share of room, although he was not much taller than I was.”
Gail asks why he’s there. Well, he was supposed to stay at their daughter’s, but it turns out her fiancé is “deathly allergic” to cats. Why did he bring his cat? Well, she wasn’t his cat, but her older owner had died, and he’d picked her up at the Delaware shelter where he volunteers, and he couldn’t very well leave her alone, could he? In fact, he is hoping that Gail will adopt the cat. Fat chance. “I didn’t even want a houseplant,” Gail explains. “I had reached the stage of life when I was done with caretaking.”
That’s the setup, and Tyler clearly has fun with it as she returns to a favorite theme: how a marriage, even a failed one, plays out over decades. She throws in a few twists, including some unfortunate dirt on the groom that nearly derails the wedding. The fact that we pretty much know where this is going doesn’t matter, because Max and Gail’s conversations are hilarious, especially when they grope for elusive words.
We learn a lot about these two people in just 176 pages. Both are devoted educators. Neither cares about fancy clothes or food. One lacks boundaries, while the other, by her own admission, “was all about boundaries.” One is giving and forgiving, the other judgmental. One is irrepressible, the other bottled up. But years after their split, they still share some inside jokes.
The narrative chronicles Gail’s gradual recognition that her inflexible standards have impinged on her happiness. At one point she recalls the time Debbie asked why she was an only child. “I explained that we couldn’t afford more children – not if she wanted the very best college education,” Gail tells us. She reports that young Debbie replied, “See there? You’re always trying to do things perfect, when I’d rather do things just so-so but have lots of brothers and sisters.” And what was Gail’s response? “’Perfectly,’ I corrected her.”
The moral of this story? Cut people some slack and forgive their shortcomings – and your own, too! Another takeaway: If you’re looking for a deeply humane writer abounding in wit and wisdom, read Anne Tyler.
