As I tried to finish Cost by Roxana Robinson, I juggled my schedule and made more than one bargain with myself. ”Just one more chapter, then I’ll put away the laundry.” ”If I can finish this section in thirty minutes, I’ll still make it out the door on time.” I love a novel like that; I love it when I just want to keep immersed in the world the author has created.
I suppose I should classify this novel as another piece of “professor literature.” Both of the parents, Wendell and Julia, are professors. They are now divorced, and Julia got the summer house in Maine. I love how professors in books always have a summer house in Maine. Julia is an art history professor and an artist with a studio at the house, so the location plays an important role in the plot. As the novel opens, Julia has invited her aging parents for a visit and is tense about having them in the house. In the beginning, each chapter is from a different character’s point of view. At first I resisted this because I had just finished another novel with the same conceit.
Fortunately, I didn’t let the slow opening stop me. The novel picks up with the introduction of Jack, Julia’s son. Jack is addicted to heroin. While the plot keeps the reader asking, “will he come clean?” and “how bad will it get for the family?”, Robinson uses the situation to explore all of the dynamics of this stiff and distant family. I kept making bargains to spend more time reading because I never knew where the next insight would come from. By pacing the first two-thirds of the novel over the space of three days, Robinson shows how families negotiate the morass of their past while shuffling through the day-by-day minutiae of ordinary life. The big revelations come, not with the big scenes, but in the time the characters must spend waiting and worrying.I found this much more realistic than some of the shouting scenes you get in Hollywood films about families. Because Robinson shifts from the interior thoughts of one character to the next, she’s also able to capture how one family member may have an important insight, but choose not to share it. This would be nearly impossible to capture in a film, but again is a realistic depiction of family life.
For me, this was a thoroughly satisfying book. It was a delight to read such a carefully planned and plotted novel. All the laundry may not be folded, but now I have some good food for thought when I do get to it. As I sort socks, I’ll also be sorting out how the title word, “cost,” played out for each member of the family. What did Jack’s addiction cost, literally and metaphorically? I realize now how thoroughly Robinson drew me into the world of her characters. As each bargained for Jack’s life, I made all those little bargains to keep reading.

Last Thursday while driving to work, I decided to procrastinate just another hour or so. I had purchased all my supplies for my tenure dossier and should have been chomping at the bit. But, before I started sorting through syllabi, e-mail, and committee meeting minutes, I wanted a little slack time. I sneaked off to Barnes and Noble and purchased
As
Early on in graduate school, I was an insufferable snob. I only read fiction worthy of being labeled “Literature” with a capital “L.” I worked at a chain bookstore at the mall and silently grimaced at each customer who happily paid for a stack of romance or mystery paperbacks. Oh, what they were missing! If someone asked for a recommendation, I’d offer up Morrison or McCarthy or someone else who was suitably ’serious.’ Then, one day, I was rushing through the airport, late for an international flight. I hastily bought a frothy , British version of the newly-developing chick lit genre. I had finished all my serious reading on vacation and couldn’t endure a seven-hour flight empty-handed.






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