A gorgeously told tale unfolds about this family, The Maytrees. It delves into all that occurs to them throughout the span of their lifetime. At times, it reads like a journal, filled with rhetorical questions, beautiful poetry, and profound philosophizing about everything. But at its core, it remains a lovely tale about life. It is very quiet, even meditative. Why this review is making me write in a similar style as the story, with short sentences and a lovely cadence, I don't quite know. I had to read this for class and am glad that I did. I don't think I would have picked this up on my own initially. I was a kid who was drawn to thrillers, horror books, and supernatural elements. The complete absence of any of those genres in this book initially made it difficult for me to slow down and enjoy. However, this is a kind of "smell the roses" novel that managed to make me stop and take notice. I truly appreciated it and perhaps others will like it too.

I should know better than to be too quick to judge. The beginning of the book seemed overly cute and precious, and I couldn't help but wonder, "Is this all there is to it?" Little did I know that I was still in the "Preface." Part One kicks off on page 61, and from that point forward, it's as sharp, pragmatic, and yet both discordant and melodic as her finest nonfiction works.

I don't believe she perceives the other characters with the same clarity as she does the character of Lou. However, I also don't think she's oblivious to their limitations, especially when it comes to how they view Lou. Perhaps it's not quite as fulfilling as her nonfiction, but it's not that different either, and it's not all that much less engaging. You can almost feel the beach sand between your toes and the dampness in your socks.

By the way, the cover design of my edition is truly perfect. The die-cut letters against the gorgeous blue background add a touch of elegance and charm.

And, of course, I couldn't resist dog-earing pages and savoring the wonderful quotes. From the description of the ocean as a "monster with a lace hem" to this thought-provoking passage: "she agreed with many out here who like her...found it prudent not to waste life's few years cultivating and displaying good taste. To whom? She could be reading."

The Maytrees by Annie Dillard is an outstanding piece of fiction that chronicles the life of a couple, both when they are together and when they are apart. I have a penchant for novels of this kind, where the quiet and profound moments accumulate to form something greater than the sum of its parts.

The author's mastery of language is simply breathtaking. She is a truly talented novelist who manages to pack a powerful punch into a relatively short novel. The sheer depth and complexity of this work are truly astounding. It is an absolutely lovely novel that leaves a lasting impression.

Lou Bigelow and Toby Maytree get married and build a life together in Cape Cod, which is exquisitely described in this quiet and thoughtful novel about intertwined lives. Lou and Toby meet, fall in love, get married, have a child, and settle into a simple life. However, while Lou is occupied with the daily琐事 of life, Toby succumbs to the allure of another woman and runs away, leaving Lou to raise their only child on her own. As the years pass, Lou and Toby's relationship evolves from love to anger, then to affection, and finally, back to love. This evocative novel delves into the fluidity of time and its impact on love, acceptance, and decency, all within the context of the ordinary experiences of life, making it a profoundly graceful and moving work of art.

There are three main reasons that led me to pick up "The Maytrees" by Annie Dillard. They are Provincetown, Marriage, and Pittsburgh, Pa. The book cover itself is quite distinct. With a bare bones design, a plain white background, and the title and author's name in green ink, it seems to convey another theme of the novel - perhaps a deliberate shunning of the book marketing PR culture. Or could it be the opposite - thumbing its nose at the New York Times best books list to attract my attention? Maybe it's both.

"The Maytrees" is a story of marriage that unfolds after WWII in Provincetown, MA. Seen through Dillard's eyes as a cultured scientist/naturalist, marriage is like a seascape.

As for the couple themselves, Toby Maytree adored Lou's laugh the most (as she rarely talked or shared her thoughts). Lou, on the other hand, loved Toby's simplicity and sex (at least that's what I gather). Lou describes herself as "shipwrecked on the sheets" and fully accepts his attentions. They have a son named Pete, a normal boy who grows up to be a fisherman, and Toby and Lou love him dearly, just as they seemingly love each other.

The novel is also a diorama of Provincetown, Massachusetts, and the iconic artist's colony at the tip of Cape Cod where the marriage takes place. When one thinks of P-town, marriage may not be the first thing that comes to mind. It's known for its wild and weird characters who are also artists, the Eugene O’Neil Theater, sexual license (historically gay), and fresh fish. It's like the Rave party of artists’ colonies by the sea.

I had been in Provincetown twice. The first time as a waitress, and the second time as a writing fellow in the acclaimed Writers Workshop. That winter I spent in P-town, pretending to be the writer I aspired to become, I might have crossed paths with the reclusive couple, the sometime artist Lou, and Toby Maytree, the poet and house mover.

The setting of "The Maytrees" overshadows any plot. The pristine and unique descriptions ebb and flow on the pages like the surf. We witness the sunrise over the ocean, the snow on the dunes, and the narrow town on the curled hooked spit of Cape Cod. This rare seascape outshines the "townies", artists, and the never-mentioned tourists who are no more than mere sea urchins washed up by the tide.

Couples also lurked in the background during the winter I spent in Provincetown. There were eccentric, alluring, stylish, and cultured writers and painters with their significant others on their arms. I met charming, long-married artist couples almost every night at the parties they hosted. Most of them were much older, reaching out to us young artists from their charming New England or stark, SOHO-type lofts, homes, cottages, or townhouses. The locals and hangers-on also came to their parties, adding to the juicy gossip of the next new sea-struck day.

I'm not sure if Annie Dillard lived in Provincetown, but both she and I grew up in Pittsburgh, Pa. on the same East Side. I probably passed her in the halls on my way to meet a 7th grader I tutored in the Ellis Library of the school she attended, which was several blocks away from mine. She would have been living the life that would later become her first book, the successful memoir "American Childhood, A Writing Life", which I devoured twenty-five years later. At that time, neither of us was married yet.

The Maytrees have a seemingly idyllic marriage. And then, out of nowhere, catastrophe strikes - the typical adultery, abandonment, and betrayal. Lou’s best friend, the wild, blueblood, and gregarious Deary, disrupts the marriage, if you can even call it that. There's no fighting, no discussion, no tears, no rancor. Just plain old pain for Lou, and I don't know what Toby, the instigator, feels.

In her novel, Annie Dillard, who is both a naturalist and a writer, has created a rare and gentle deviant to the marriage of two minds. If marriage is the message in "The Maytrees", it's hidden away in a bottle that you have to search for. In her special P-town light, Dillard reveals the often hidden truth that any marriage leads to old age and death, and perhaps, the Maytrees can come to terms with that as well.

Much as I liked Pilgrim at Tinker Creek and An American Childhood, this book left me kind of blah.

Maybe that’s because the main character, Lou, is kind of blah herself. She’s more of an interesting idea than she is an interesting person. She's a nonconformist, but that makes me say so what. She seldom speaks, even to her husband, although Dillard keeps insisting theirs is an intimate union. She needs space to think and wants nothing of the things of this world. She lives at a remove, in kind of an emotional flatline, even when Dillard insists she is unhappy.

Everything is tamped down. There’s a lot of musing about the various permutations of love, and I can see that Dillard’s plot is trying to animate some of those ideas. However, it didn't work for me. Perhaps fiction is not Dillard's thing.

As usual, though, Dillard’s descriptions of the natural world are provocative and beautiful. If that had been enough for me, I would have liked this book more. But unfortunately, the lackluster main character and the unconvincing plot overshadowed the otherwise wonderful descriptions of nature.

I still appreciate Dillard's talent for writing about the natural world, but this particular book didn't quite hit the mark for me.

I hesitated to describe this novel as contemporary.

Because it feels historical, elegiac, although the time period it is set in is not that long ago. It's the 1950s - 1970s in Provincetown, Cape Cod, yet it has such a rural, unmodern feel to it.

Toby and Lou are the Maytrees of the title. But if the book is about their love affair and marriage, it must also be acknowledged that their marriage doesn't even last for half of the novel.

There is very little plot to this novel. Even the big event - when Toby runs off with their friend Deary - is handled in a low-key, understated way.

Really, this book is all about Dillard's truly beautiful use of language. Her descriptions are poetic, and indeed the book has to be read much in the same careful, slow way that poetry needs to be read.

It was difficult to get used to the rhythm of the story, which doesn't necessarily move forward in any linear way. It swoops and digresses, and every paragraph seems to sound better on the rereading.

I liked it a lot, in the end - if not at the beginning. But don't read it if you are looking for an absorbing or exciting plot. Do read it if you are attracted to the idea of an unworldly couple who read, between them, about 300 novels a year.

I truly have a profound love for Annie Dillard. It is almost impossible for me to convey just how much "Pilgrim at Tinker Creek" had a profound impact on my world. I can only say that I am extremely reluctant to let anyone borrow my well-worn paperback copy. It's not because I'm overly concerned about not getting it back. Instead, it's because I am deeply embarrassed by some of the thoughts I scribbled in the margins when I first read it at the age of 18. That's just how bad those thoughts seem to me now.

So, it's rather challenging to express the extent of my disappointment with "The Maytrees." This book is far too contemplative to be considered mere fiction, let alone a story about love. Moreover, the characters are so deeply lost in their own thoughts that it becomes extremely difficult to envision them as real individuals. (I don't know about you, but for me, good fiction implies having characters that I can wholeheartedly believe in, regardless of how fantastical their circumstances might be.) I would suggest that Annie should leave those big thoughts for the creek.

However, the redeeming quality of this story, and the reason I'm giving it three stars, is that there are several beautiful moments that serve as a reminder of why I think Dillard is such a brilliant writer. For instance, one day the main character, Lou Maytree, is thinking about her grown son, Petie. Dillard writes that if Lou could have her way, she would gather all the Peties that have ever existed, at ages 0, 2 years, three days and five hours old, 22 years old, and so on, and place them all in a room together. I can easily imagine that for most parents, it must be incredibly difficult to let go of all the different incarnations of their children. This passage, I found, was both touching and beautifully written.

In the meantime, I've made up my mind to give "Tinker Creek" another read...

A bit slow, yet still stunning. It is a story that weaves together two lives through the passage of time and the trials they face. It is, ultimately, a story of love and life. The narrative is intimate and real, drawing the reader in and making them feel as if they are a part of the characters' world.

Dillard's writing is a thing of beauty. She sketches beautiful scenes with vivid language, painting a picture in the reader's mind that is both detailed and enchanting. The descriptions are so vivid that one can almost smell the flowers, feel the breeze, and hear the sounds of nature.

The story unfolds gradually, like a flower blooming in slow motion. Each page reveals a new layer of the characters' personalities and the relationship that is developing between them. It is a journey that the reader takes with the characters, sharing in their joys and sorrows, their hopes and dreams.

Overall, this is a story that will stay with you long after you have turned the last page. It is a beautiful and moving tale of love and life, told with skill and artistry by a master storyteller.

Ms. Dillard's prose has a certain charm that reminds me of Virginia Woolf's 'Jacobs Room'.

Although Lou and Maytree are the main narrators, it seems to me that I am only catching glimpses of their story from the corner of my eye.

We are only presented with brief snippets of their life, with significant portions missing.

The story has a rather monotone quality. It's not that it's boring; rather, it plods along at its own rhythm, skipping ahead five years here and ten years there.

This is a short novella that delves into the themes of love and commitment. It is tightly structured and bounded, perhaps too much so for some readers.

However, there is a certain beauty in its simplicity and the way it presents a fragmented yet poignant picture of a relationship.

Overall, while it may not be a literary masterpiece, it does offer some interesting insights into the nature of love and the passage of time.

The beauty of this story lies in Annie Dillard's prose. Her ability to capture the love between Lou and Toby Maytree and the friendship between them and their friends is truly remarkable. They and their friends are artists and writers, and the book is set in Cape Cod, with its shifting sands, salty brine, and star-lit nights. The war, which is the Second World War, is sometimes referred to, but it is over and only exists in fleeting memories.

Before reading the book, I heard that Dillard's non-fiction books were better than her fiction. However, I disagree. Some people say the relationships in the book are not believable, but I don't think so. It is true that Toby and Lou never argue in a yelling way, but they do have their disagreements. Just because they don't yell and scream doesn't mean they don't hurt each other. Some readers want action and momentum, but in this book, the movement is slow and gradual, yet still powerful.

This is a book about Toby, Lou, and their friends. We follow them from when they first meet until the end, which you will discover. I can tell you that they have a son named Pete, who gets married and has a son too. The writing in this book is utterly gorgeous. It captures how a person thinks, with one thought leading to another. This means you have to pay attention, or you will get lost. It's almost impossible to predict the direction of the thoughts.
I don't have much more to say, except that halfway through, I thought about starting over from the beginning when I reached the end. I didn't because the end is extremely sad. I recommend reading it slowly the first time, savoring the lines and considering all the possible interpretations. Now that I know the characters and how it ends, I might pick it up again in the future. When listening to the audiobook, you don't have enough time to think about the different interpretations. The audiobook I listened to was narrated by David Rasche. His reading was clear and at a good tempo, but I still think it's better to read the paper book if you can, because the lines are so beautiful and full of ideas. I gave the narration three stars. I also gave five stars to An American Childhood by Annie Dillard. Her writing is perfect for me, and I highly recommend you try one of her books.

This is one of my favorite books!

The writing within its pages is truly remarkable. It is so densely filled with profound meaning, yet at the same time, it has a light and airy quality. It's like a delicate cobweb that only hints at the shape of a room, adding an element of mystery and intrigue.

The characters in this book are extremely realistic. They are complex individuals with their own unique personalities, motives, and flaws. What makes them even more interesting is that they often behave in unexpected ways, just like real humans do. It's as if they jump off the page and come to life before your eyes.

I have a special affinity for this book. I could read it countless times and still discover new details and ideas to ponder. Each reading offers a fresh perspective and a deeper understanding of the story and its characters. It's a book that never gets old and always manages to capture my imagination.

I once read an Annie Dillard essay on sight that left me completely disoriented.

So much so that I had to put down the compilation book it was part of for a whole week.

She dissected the sight of birds flocking from a tree in such a detailed and unique way that it made me question my own perception of sight.

We all perceive what we see, but she taught me that there is more to it than meets the eye.

I process the visual information in the same way as any other human, but in the end, I still add my own color and interpretation.

Annie Dillard's work is full of such profound lessons, and I keep coming back to them through the endless possibilities of her language.

Take The Maytrees, for example.

On the surface, it appears to be a fairly simple story.

Toby Maytree and Lou Bigelow grow up in Provincetown, connected by good friends and a deep sense of wonder at the natural world.

They fall in love, get married, and are later separated by another woman.

Years pass, and their loyalty is put to the test when Maytree shows up on Lou's doorstep again.

However, this novel is so much more than its plot.

Dillard has a remarkable ability to bring every event in her work into the great cosmic wonder of the universe.

Everything, from the tiniest detail to the grandest scene, is vital and beautiful.

She makes us see the meaning in the shadows on a white dress shirt or the sight of an escaping split-in-half horseshoe crab.

It might seem overwhelming to some, but Dillard is a master at presenting her images and allowing her characters to comment on them indirectly.

We get to know their hearts as much as possible, and then we have the freedom to take away whatever we want from the images she gifts us.

In The Maytrees, the ebb and flow of the ocean mirrors the couple's marriage, and the sustenance provided by the stars is infinite.

I got lost in Dillard's captivating description of the Milky Way, just like her characters.

Her poetic voice is a perfect fit for this hymn to the planet's ecstasies and love as a lifelong pursuit, always being reborn as part of nature's cycle.