Fates and Furies

Fates and Furies Cover Image

Fates and Furies

Author: Lauren Groff

Publisher: Riverhead Books, 2015 (Hardcover, 390 pages)

Rating: 5owls

Thoughts:

This was the tale of a marriage between two very complex individuals, Lotto & Mathilde. I enjoyed the structure of the book very much; the first half of the book is told through Lotto’s point of view and the second half through Mathilde’s. Not all is what it seems in this relationship and Lauren Groff does a great job of of unveiling all the layers in the best way possible.

Memorable Quotes:

“Bumblefuck Pie, a hick to these boys from Boston and New York. Zitty, the childhood loveliness vanished, too tall, too skinny. A Southerner, inferior. His wealth, which had once singled him out, unremarkable among the wealthy.” p. 23

“Luxuriating in horror, he was. In the unhappiness of being broken. There was not not a kind of wallowing joy in this.” p. 103

“For many months up there he had looked down and considered how the lifespan of a sunflower reflected the lifespan of man: hopeful, beautiful, brightly shooting out of the ground; broad and strong, with a face turned full and dutiful toward the sun; head so heavy with ripe thoughts it bowed toward the ground, turned brown, lost its bright hair, grew weak on its stalk; mowed down for the long winter.” p. 128

“He would have liked to go deeper into her, to seat himself on the seat of her lacrimal bone and ride there, tiny homunculus like a rodeo cowboy, understand what it was she thought. Oh, but it would be redundant. Quiet daily intimacy had taught him. Paradox of marriage: you can never know someone entirely; you do know someone entirely.” p. 202

“Somehow, despite her politics and smarts, she had become a wife, and wives, as we all know, are invisible. The midnight elves of marriage. The house in the country, the apartment in the city, the taxes, the dog, all were her concern: he had no idea what she did with her time.” p. 244

“It occurred to her then that life was conical in shape, the past broadening beyond the sharp point of the lived moment. The more life you had, the more the base expanded, so that the wounds and treasons that were nearly imperceptible when they happened stretched like tiny dots on a balloon slowly blown up. A speck on the slender child grows in to a gross deformity in the adult, inescapable, ragged at the edges.” p. 354

Advertisements