The Ten-Year Nap finds four friends, women who live in New York, contemplating the choices they made about parenting and professions. The four all gave up their careers about ten years ago (hence the title), and some regret the decision; others are comfortable with the lives they’ve chosen.
It’s a testament to the talents of Meg Wolitzer that even thought I didn’t care for this book, I still borrowed two more of her novels from my local library. She’s very, very funny — keep an eye out for Amy Lamb’s reaction to her son’s favored reading material.
The novel follows all four women, plus one more character who drives the plot, and then veers off to show vignettes in the lives of women related the main characters. I felt that the novel never settled, as if Ms. Wolitzer couldn’t decide which person she was most interested in exploring; there’s fodder here for two or three novels.
Another aggravation for me was the jacket copy (no surprise there), which described the characters as middle class. Um, no. Maybe two of them are middle class by New York standards, as my friend Katie pointed out, but by any other standard these women are wealthy, wealthy, wealthy, with the luxury of choosing whether or not to parent their children at home.
Occasionally they glance at the lives of the less fortunate. Roberta, for instance, flutters in and out of left-wing activism; at the private boys’ school attended by three of the friends’ sons, poor children of color are invited for a yearly visit that is halted after an incident (there’s not too much plot to give away here, but nonetheless, I refrain.). Even Jill, whose adopted daughter comes from an understaffed Russian orphanage, spends her mental energy focused on herself, without much thought for the other children left without adoptive parents. I found these women unlikable, but I suspect Ms. Wolitzer is trying to point out foibles that we might find in ourselves: a tendency, no matter our political leanings, toward self-centeredness. We draw back from the world we see out the window.
The Ten Year-Nap also made me uncomfortable because it hits close to home. I’m the at-home parent to our son, and though he’s too small for school now, I do wonder what I will do, how I will feel, when he’s ten, or twelve, or fifteen. Even if I wanted to enter the workforce right now (I’m ambivalent, given H’s age), or go back to grad school to finish my PhD, we couldn’t afford it. Yes, you read that right. Daycare is so expensive here that it’s cheaper for me to stay home than to work as a teacher. And for other women the situation is reversed: they can’t afford not to work. As I often explain, it’s a complicated calculus, one that will probably hold for the next few years, though I hope not forever. I love my child and will do my best to see that he arrives safely at adulthood as a kind and loving person, and I think that’s a worthy goal, a worthy and difficult occupation. But I want to contribute something more to the world —not necessarily something better, just something more.
To me, The Ten-Year Nap implies that the women it follows had done something wrong, some disservice to themselves, by parenting their children at home. Even the title is diminutive, implying that the women are childish (not a rest or a sleep, but a nap). Maybe it’s the suggestion that these women are asleep to themselves that I find annoying; why can’t one be oneself and an at-home parent too?
Have you read the novel? What did you think?
5 thoughts on “Feeling Restless After The Ten-Year Nap”
Thanks for your review, Carolyn. I had started this but I don’t feel I got far enough to offer any coherent opinions about it. All I know is that coming back to the book each night felt more and more like a chore, and then I thought, what is wrong with this picture?? Especially as I also have a boy around the same age as that of the protagonist. Somehow, though, I guess I didn’t connect enough with her, and the one thing I did realize was that I didn’t really care about any of the characters. Maybe it was like meeting a group of new moms and then realizing that we weren’t clicking, so I would stop going to the meet-ups 😉 It’s a shame, because it would really have been nice to have connected with these women and their stories!
I wanted very much to like the book, since I liked The Wife, but I just didn’t click with the characters, as you say. I’m not sure why I kept reading, to tell the truth, because I’m trying to control my (insane) feeling that I need to finish any novel I start. I guess the writing kept me coming back to the book — Ms. Wolitzer is an amazing stylist.
I appreciate your reflections on the book and your own story. The post caught my eye bc I grew up in NYC. If I may.. I’ve already answered your question:
Thanks for stopping by! I liked your poems very much. Have you read the book? If not, I think you might find it interesting.
Thanks for viewing, C. I will keep the title in mind. Just got in three library books, two of them Fitzgerald. =)