One Small Thing: Anne Tyler

This sampler came down to me from my father’s side of the family.  Maria Louisa Baker was my I-don’t-know-how-many-times-great-aunt.  She probably stitched the sampler at age six or seven, and I’m told she died before she reached adulthood.

Her early death should mean that the sampler would make me sad, and it does, a little; but also I find myself smiling every time I look at it.

Just study it closely for a moment.  Oh, it starts out well, I admit.  The upper-case alphabet is flawless.  But then the lower-case alphabet . . . oh, dear.  A missing j, an out-of-place l.  (“Oops!” I can hear her thinking.  “Well, I’ll just tuck that rascally l in after the n; maybe no one will realize.”)  The cursive alphabet also lacks a J, and now U has gone missing besides, not to mention Z.

Let’s not talk about the backwards s in Louisa.

I love to imagine her hoping against hope that the grownups won’t notice.  And I wonder: surely they did notice, but did they bring it to her attention?  I hope not, actually.  I hope they smiled the way I smile now, and decided to let it pass without comment.  She was so little, after all.  She could stitch better samplers later.

Or so they thought.

What makes me happy is the sense of that distinctive, slapdash, headlong personality, traveling down to me so clearly from all those years ago.  Aren’t human beings endlessly interesting?

In these times, that’s something I’m glad to be reminded of.

From the beloved Anne Tyler, a sparkling new novel about misperception, second chances, and the sometimes elusive power of human connection.

Micah Mortimer is a creature of habit. A self-employed tech expert, superintendent of his Baltimore apartment building, cautious to a fault behind the steering wheel, he seems content leading a steady, circumscribed life. But one day his routines are blown apart when his woman friend (he refuses to call anyone in her late thirties a "girlfriend") tells him she's facing eviction, and a teenager shows up at Micah's door claiming to be his son. These surprises, and the ways they throw Micah's meticulously organized life off-kilter, risk changing him forever. An intimate look into the heart and mind of a man who finds those around him just out of reach, and a funny, joyful, deeply compassionate story about seeing the world through new eyes, Redhead by the Side of the Road is a triumph, filled with Anne Tyler's signature wit and gimlet-eyed observation.

“Anne Tyler has every gift a great novelist needs: intent observation, empathy and language both direct and surprising. She has unembarrassed goodness as well. In this time of snark, preening, sub-tweeting and the showy torment of characters, we could use more Tyler.” —Amy Bloom, New York Times Book Review

“If ever there was a perfect time for a new Anne Tyler novel, it’s now—and this one doesn’t disappoint . . . Heartwarming and very funny—one of Tyler’s best yet.” —People (book of the week)

“Anne Tyler could make even quarantined lives feel expansive and lovely . . . Though we have stripped our daily rituals down to their bare essentials, we remain as big and as loving and as scared and as frustratingly human as we were before the world outside screeched to a halt. Redhead by the Side of the Road is a delicate and moving reminder of this, and proves Tyler’s voice remains as vital as ever.” —Vanity Fair

'Redhead By the Side of the Road' is available from Anne Tyler's local independent The Ivy Bookshop. It is also at Amazon, your local UK indie bookshop at Hive, and at Waterstones (where I couldn't resist ordering a signed copy). 

Stay well, stay safe, stay home.