While I enjoyed this book and found it to be well-written, it was quite pretentious and I'm not sure who this book is for, exactly. Maybe someone who studies the classics but wants a breezy-ish romantic read? Calhoun references Petrarch, hooks, Hildegard of Bingen, St. Teresa of Avila, Auden, Whitman, Marilynne Robinson, Jules Renard, and Stendahl but also Grey's Anatomy, Weird Science, Parks and Recreation, and Clueless. The book is overflowing with allusions that tend to overwhelm the narrative.

Calhoun's portrait of a woman who finds and falls in love with her intellectual equal, with whom she's addicted to talking and sharing every thought, was effective and well done. I just felt that she skipped over some important parts of the plot in service of showing off her considerable intellect (She never mentions David's relationship status--is he single? Divorced? I guess we just assume he's available. And after all that fretting over how Nate, her son, would take her divorce, there is no mention of how he reacts).

Never let it be said that this book wears its research lightly. There’s scarcely a page that doesn’t quote from one source or another,usually but not always high culture, to remind you that author has done her homework. A philosophical novel about love? Okay. But does it really have to be so top heavy? Having said that, there were moments of enjoyment and humor that leavened the density. But for me it was just a bit too much, the think-y emphasis and reference. Better luck integrating, next time.

I have read all of Calhoun's books and this one, her first novel, was a delight. It definitely feels like auto-fiction in interesting and intriguing ways too. The characters are sharply drawn, and I appreciate Calhoun's close look at family and family systems.