Object Lessons: A Novel

NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • In this “charming, compassionate little masterpiece” (The Philadelphia Inquirer), Pulitzer–Prize winning author Anna Quindlen traces the coming-of-age of a young girl struggling to find her way within the tangle of her quirky, loving Irish-Catholic family. “A small triumph . . . elaborate and playful . . . honest and deeply felt . . . Here is the Quindlen wit, the sharp eye for details of class and manners, the ardent reading of domestic lives.”—The New York Times (Best Books of the Year) It is the 1960s, in suburban New York City. Maggie Scanlan and her family are in the thrall of her powerful grandfather Jack Scanlan. In the summer of her twelfth year, Maggie is desperately trying to master the object lessons her grandfather fills her head with. But there is too much going on to concentrate. Everything at home is in upheaval, her grandfather is changing, and Maggie is unsure if what she wants is worth having. . . .

About the Author :
Anna Quindlen is the author of many bestselling books, including the #1 New York Times bestselling novel Rise and Shine, the #1 bestselling memoir Lots of Candles, Plenty of Cake, and A Short Guide to a Happy Life. Her other novels include Blessings, One True Thing, the Oprah Book Club Selection Black and Blue, and Still Life with Bread Crumbs.

Review :
“Set in the 1960s, Object Lessons concerns three generations of a rich Irish clan who live in an established inner suburb of New York City. . . . The patriarch, John Scanlan, is a lively figure. . . . One of [his sons], Tom, rebels by marrying a handsome, lower-class Italian girl. It is their daughter Maggie who is trying desperately to master some object lessons. . . . Quindlen is at her best writing about the dislocations of growing up, the blows a child does not see coming.”—Time   “Anna Quindlen’s first novel is about an experience that is the same for everyone and different for us all: the time when we suddenly see our family with an outsider’s eye and begin the separation that marks our growing up. . . . Quindlen knows that all the things we ever will be can be found in some forgotten fragment of family.”—The Washington Post Book World “A delicate, finely cut jewel of a story . . . Anna Quindlen’s story of Maggie Scanlan’s twelfth year in a Westchester County suburb next to the Bronx is a charming, compassionate little masterpiece—a story so compelling that one wishes at the end that it hadn’t stopped and that one could learn more about Maggie, who, although she doesn’t realize it, is a magic child on the way to being a magic woman. . . . No man could have possibly spun this strong yet gossamer story of what happens to a child when all the clear boundaries of her existence collapse in a single month. . . . It’s a fine novel, a brilliant novel, a story that makes one wait eagerly for Anna Quindlen’s next novel.”—The Philadelphia Inquirer   “Warm and wry . . . Accessible, thoughtful . . . The novel has a quaint, old-fashioned feel. Decisions made early in life are irrevocable; unplanned pregnancy seals a couple’s fate. It isn’t lure of freedom that pulls Maggie Scanlan, the thirteen-year-old protagonist, but the familiar bonds of her life, the lines drawn ‘in her house, her neighborhood, her relationships. . . .’ During the summer that the novel chronicles, all these lines are blurred, shifted, or destroyed.” —San Francisco Chronicle “The characters are quirky and vividly drawn. . . . The writing is lovely, and shows the humor and quiet insight that made Quindlen’s column beloved. . . . Quindlen is an intelligent and imaginative writer.”—The Boston Globe “Rich in the precisely observed . . . With a quiet, sure touch, Quindlen carefully fits together the narrative pieces of individual desires, doubts, and development to create a satisfyingly complex mosaic of communal growth and change. There are dramatic events—a death, a fire, a wedding—but the more important activity of this novel takes place within its characters, as they pursue self-knowledge and closer connections with those they love.”—Newsday