{"id":2168,"date":"2025-03-04T11:28:13","date_gmt":"2025-03-04T11:28:13","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/?p=2168"},"modified":"2025-03-04T11:28:13","modified_gmt":"2025-03-04T11:28:13","slug":"this-is-a-love-story-by-jessica-soffer","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/?p=2168","title":{"rendered":"This Is a Love Story by Jessica Soffer"},"content":{"rendered":"

Jessica Soffer\u2019s second novel, This Is a Love Story<\/em>, lives up to its straightforward title while simultaneously subverting expectations of what a love story can be. Unlike her 2013 debut, Tomorrow There Will Be Apricots<\/em>, which explored the complex relationship between a young girl and an elderly Iraqi Jewish widow, Soffer\u2019s latest work examines the profound, sometimes painful love between husband and wife, mother and son, and perhaps most significantly, between artists and their art.<\/p>\n

At its heart, the novel follows Abe and Jane, a writer and visual artist who have been married for nearly fifty years. Jane is dying of cancer, and Abe recounts their life together as she fades, remembering their courtship, marriage, artistic careers, and the complicated relationship with their son, Max. The narrative weaves between perspectives, including Jane\u2019s, Abe\u2019s, Max\u2019s, and even Central Park itself, which serves as both setting and character throughout their decades-long relationship.<\/p>\n

Soffer\u2019s prose is lyrical yet precise, with a distinct rhythm that mimics the ebb and flow of memory. The novel\u2019s structure\u2014fragmented, circular, sometimes disorienting\u2014mirrors Jane\u2019s deteriorating condition and the non-linear nature of remembering a shared life. While this technique creates an immersive emotional experience<\/a>, it occasionally makes the narrative difficult to follow, particularly in the latter half of the book when perspectives shift more rapidly.<\/p>\n

The Park as Witness and Character<\/h2>\n

One of the novel\u2019s most innovative aspects is Central Park\u2019s role as both backdrop and narrative voice. Soffer personifies the Park in interludes that offer a broader perspective on love and relationships:<\/p>\n

\u201cIn the Park, romance is alive and well. Among the tulips, fritillaries, and anemones, juniors from Bronx Science make promises across the Whisper Bench\u2014I want to exist in the same quantum state as you.\u201d<\/h4>\n

These sections provide welcome breathing room from the intensity of Abe and Jane\u2019s story, showcasing Soffer\u2019s talent for observation and her ability to capture the essence of New York City. The Park becomes a sanctuary, a testing ground, and ultimately a constant in the characters\u2019 changing lives. It\u2019s where Abe and Jane meet, where they bring their son, where they walk during Jane\u2019s illness, and where Abe returns after her death.<\/p>\n

However, these Park interludes sometimes feel disconnected from the main narrative, more like beautiful set pieces than integral parts of the story. While they establish atmosphere effectively, they occasionally interrupt the emotional momentum of Abe and Jane\u2019s story.<\/p>\n

The Complexity of Creative Lives<\/h2>\n

The novel excels in its exploration of artistic identity and the tension between creativity and relationships<\/a>. Jane and Abe are both dedicated to their art\u2014she to her visual creations, he to his writing\u2014and this shared passion both binds them together and drives them apart.<\/p>\n

Jane\u2019s postpartum depression after Max\u2019s birth coincides with a creative drought, showing how these aspects of identity are inextricably linked for her:<\/p>\n

\u201cYou remember that it was the longest time in your life without art. Making it or looking at it, or thinking about it even. You had nothing left.\u201d<\/h4>\n

Particularly moving is Soffer\u2019s portrayal of Jane\u2019s gradual return to her art after this difficult period, and how her creative rebirth helps her reclaim herself. This speaks to a larger theme in the novel: that art can be both salvation and separation, a way of connecting to others and a way of retreating from them.<\/p>\n

Abe\u2019s brief affair with Alice, a student in his writing class, serves as a catalyst for examining the costs of creative ambition<\/a>. While this subplot introduces necessary tension, Alice herself remains underdeveloped, functioning more as a plot device than a fully realized character. Her sections, told in third person, lack the emotional resonance of the rest of the novel, making it difficult to understand what drives her beyond a superficial admiration for Abe\u2019s work.<\/p>\n

The Painful Distance Between Parent and Child<\/h2>\n

Perhaps the most heartbreaking aspect of the novel is the strained relationship between Jane and her son, Max. After her postpartum depression creates an initial distance between them, neither can bridge the gap as Max grows older:<\/p>\n

\u201cYou remember sometimes, with him, keeping the words in your mouth like toothpaste water, wanting to spit. You remember wishing you could start over with him. Be a different mother from the get-go.\u201d<\/h4>\n

Max emerges as a fascinating character\u2014talented, charismatic, and deeply wounded. His sections, written in third person, reveal a man who keeps everyone at arm\u2019s length, particularly women. His complex feelings toward his mother\u2014resentment, concern, and a reluctant love\u2014are rendered with nuance and empathy.<\/p>\n

However, the novel sometimes falls into the trap of oversimplifying the causes of this estrangement, suggesting that Jane\u2019s early inability to bond with Max is the primary source of their difficulties. This explanation feels reductive, particularly given the novel\u2019s otherwise sophisticated treatment of family dynamics.<\/p>\n

Strengths and Weaknesses<\/h2>\n

What Works Well<\/h3>\n

The examination of love through time<\/strong>: Soffer skillfully portrays the evolution of a marriage through both mundane moments and major life events.
\nThe portrayal of illness<\/strong>: Jane\u2019s cancer is depicted with unflinching honesty, avoiding both sentimentality and excessive grimness.
\nThe sensory details<\/strong>: From the \u201csalt breeze\u201d at their Orient home to the \u201crose water and oil\u201d Jane uses after doctor\u2019s appointments, Soffer creates a vivid sensory landscape.
\nThe treatment of memory<\/strong>: The novel captures how memories shift and change, how they\u2019re selectively preserved and reinterpreted.<\/p>\n

Where It Falters<\/h3>\n

Pacing issues<\/strong>: The novel moves slowly in places, particularly in the middle sections when Jane and Abe are recounting their earlier years.
\nToo many perspectives<\/strong>: While the multiple viewpoints add richness, they sometimes fragment the narrative unnecessarily.
\nThe Alice subplot<\/strong>: This storyline feels underdeveloped compared to the main narrative.
\nOccasional overwriting<\/strong>: Some metaphors feel strained (\u201cJane is a white leopard in a crocheted dress until the dress pools on the floor like spilled milk\u201d), distracting from the emotional impact.<\/p>\n

Final Verdict: A Flawed but Moving Meditation on Love and Art<\/h2>\n

Despite its imperfections, This Is a Love Story<\/em> succeeds as a meditation on the ways love persists through difficulty, change, and even betrayal. Soffer doesn\u2019t shy away from the complexities of long-term relationships or the sometimes conflicting demands of art and family. The result is a novel that feels honest even when it\u2019s painful.<\/p>\n

For readers of Meg Wolitzer\u2019s The Wife<\/em> or Lauren Groff\u2019s Fates and Furies<\/em>, this novel will resonate with its portrayal of a complex marriage between creative people. Fans of Maggie O\u2019Farrell\u2019s Hamnet<\/em> will appreciate Soffer\u2019s unflinching look at grief and loss. And those who enjoyed Rachel Cusk\u2019s Outline<\/em> trilogy will find similarities in the novel\u2019s meditation on art, identity, and human connection.<\/p>\n

This Is a Love Story<\/em> reminds us that love isn\u2019t always beautiful or easy, but it can be enduring. In Soffer\u2019s hands, even the most difficult moments between Abe and Jane, or Jane and Max, contain a kernel of connection\u2014fragile and imperfect, but undeniably present. As Jane observes near the end of her life: \u201cIt is not that I haven\u2019t had a full life.\u201d<\/p>\n

Readers seeking a straightforward romance may be disappointed by the novel\u2019s complexity and sometimes challenging structure. But those willing to engage with its deeper questions about art, parenthood, and mortality will find much to appreciate in Soffer\u2019s thoughtful, lyrical prose and her clear-eyed view of what it means to love someone, in all their imperfections, through a lifetime.<\/p>\n

Pros:<\/h3>\n

Beautiful, lyrical prose
\nComplex, realistic portrayal of a long marriage
\nInnovative structure and narrative techniques
\nMoving exploration of creativity and illness<\/p>\n

Cons:<\/h3>\n

Uneven pacing
\nSome underdeveloped subplots
\nOccasionally overwritten passages
\nStructure can be disorienting<\/p>\n

For those who loved Soffer\u2019s debut, Tomorrow There Will Be Apricots<\/em>, this second novel shows growth in ambition and technique, even if it doesn\u2019t quite achieve the emotional clarity of her earlier work. This Is a Love Story<\/em> confirms Soffer as a writer of considerable talent and ambition, one who isn\u2019t afraid to tackle difficult subjects with honesty and grace.<\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Jessica Soffer\u2019s second novel, This Is a Love Story, lives up to its straightforward title while simultaneously subverting expectations of what a love story can be. Unlike her 2013 debut, Tomorrow There Will Be Apricots, which explored the complex relationship between a young girl and an elderly Iraqi Jewish widow, Soffer\u2019s latest work examines the […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":0,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2168","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-bookreviews"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2168"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2168"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2168\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2168"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2168"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/bookloves.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2168"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}