Ex-Wife

De: Ursula Parrott, Alissa Bennett - foreword, Marc Parrott - afterword

Narrado por: Alissa Bennett

Duración: 6 h y 51 m

Resumen del Editor

An instant bestseller when it was published anonymously in 1929—the story of a divorce and its aftermath, which scandalized the Jazz Age.

It's 1924, and Peter and Patricia have what looks to be a very modern marriage. Both drink. Both smoke. Both work, Patricia as a head copywriter at a major department store. When it comes to sex with other people, both believe in "the honesty policy." Until they don't. Or, at least, until Peter doesn't—and a shell-shocked, lovesick Patricia finds herself starting out all over again, but this time around as a different kind of single woman: the ex-wife.

An instant bestseller when it was published anonymously in 1929, Ex-Wife captures the speakeasies, night clubs, and parties that defined Jazz Age New York—alongside the morning-after aspirin and calisthenics, the lunch-hour visits to the gym, the girl-talk, and the freedoms and anguish of solitude. It also casts a cool eye on the bedrooms and the doctor's offices where, despite rising hemlines, the men still call the shots. The result is a unique view of what its author Ursula Parrott called "the era of the one-night stand": an era very much like our own.

©1929 Jonathan Cape and Harrison Smith, Inc.; copyright renewed 1957 by Lindsay Marc Parrott, Jr.; afterword copyright 1989 by Richard Kai Parrott; foreword copyright 2023 by Alissa Bennett (P)2024 Tantor

I loved listening

What a fabulous rediscovery!! Has anything except the dates changed? Nope! The Bennett distinct accent and sultry inflection help to rekindle this author in the present!

Something more than timeless

It’s hard to describe how timeless this book is, how profound it is in many ways and sentimental and silly and frivolous, and just very true to life. This excerpt gutted me and is a perfect representation of Pat’s melancholy and casual self awareness,

“Nelly,” I said, “babies two years old can walk and talk can’t they?”
“Indeed they can talk,” she said, “I remember I taught you a poem to tell your mother when she can back from a trip, you weren’t more than two. It was part of the Wreck of The Hesperus and you didn’t know what any of the words meant but you said them off as nice.”
I stared at the photograph. Young woman, who had been me, need not have been so bewildered, the baby was not a problem long.
Baby, in an absurd frock, with his toes showing under it if one looked for them carefully. His name had been Patrick. He used to feel warm to hold.
I had gotten over any grief for him, and then, as I had gotten over losing him and could not remember very well what he had been like, I went and sat on the edge of Nellys wide bed and I cried against the cleanness of her cotton nightgown.
She patted my head with rough all hands, “there child, “ she said, “you musn’t sorrow over him, he’s a little angel in heaven and I often think your mother must be glad to have him to keep her company. He might have grown to be a disappointment to you, but now he’s an angel with god and in his own time you will see him again, in heaven.”
The gentle voice was all together cheerful. Heaven was as real a place to her as was to me the advertising department where I spent my days. I grew calm under the ineffably calm touch of her hands. I wished that heaven were real to me and wondered why it was not, to me, or any contemporaries I knew. The Victorians had been able to leave things to God, or the next generation but the sound of guns and the knowledge of the immediacy of death and the desire to live as swiftly as possible in the little time that youth and the capacity to live swiftly lasted had gotten between that next generation and any whispering of angels. And perhaps that was it. It did not matter why, really. We had to get on without heaven, as best we could.


- while many themes emerge, each as well thought out as the next, the one that remains and is the strongest is that of the rugged need for individualism through frivolous spending, parties, and interactions all the while acknowledging the complexity and depth and nuance that lives within them. So ahead of its time. I loved this book.