Marriage is a hot topic. It is among the most enduring institutions and has stood for security and respectability for ages. Currently, however, it is complicated by divorce, pre-nups, and the inclusion of same-sex marriages. "Matrimony," by Joshua Henkin, is not particularly interested in any of these social or political tensions that surround the wedded state of being. His novel is simply a chronicle of a relationship.
Julian and Mia meet at a fictional New England college where Julian is studying to be a writer. Carter, Julian's friend from creative writing, and Julian are both drawn to Mia's self-possessed beauty when they spot her in the hard copy version of Facebook available in the '80s. By the time either of them meets her in person, however, Carter has a girlfriend of his own, leaving the field wide open for Julian.
What transpires is a typical college romance that becomes more complicated only when Mia's mother is diagnosed with cancer. Her illness spurs their marriage into reality and soon they are living together in Ann Arbor while Mia studies for her graduate degree and Julian attempts to finish his novel.
"Matrimony" deals with a number of complications related to the reality of "for better or for worse." Strains are placed on Julian and Mia's relationship by Carter's friendship, Julian's wealth, and the history of illness in Mia's genes. Henkin both acknowledges the vacillations that occur in a relationship and admits to the endurance of love.
This novel is perfectly enjoyable but it does not mesmerize. The writing is very good and the story that Henkin tells moves along fairly steadily with a number of welcome twists. It is easy enough to sink into, and one can return to the daily tasks at hand with no trouble. "Matrimony" does not haunt you, and Mia and Julian's lives are easily re-shelved until it becomes convenient to dip back into their marriage.
For those intimately familiar with Ann Arbor, New York City, or a small, New England, liberal arts college, there are plenty of moments that will send a thrill of recognition.
Henkin writes well about the epic process that is so often the journey of a writer. The persistence involved is an undercurrent common to both Carter and Julian's efforts, but Henkin also allows for the bouts of compositional epiphany that can change a novelist's fortune overnight.
There seems, at first, little to be learned from this novel. It is not a new story nor is it a startling one. In essence it simply is. This is not a reason to dislike a book but it is not a reason to recommend it either.
What sets it slightly apart from novels that deal with similar themes is the quality of Henkin's observations.
Most of the scenes in this novel are very quiet. Henkin uses this subdued quality to his advantage. He is able to extract the tonalities of a verbal exchange or of a lingering glance and make the moments resonate. He does so without sentimentality or even much emphasis.
Henkin's acuity internalizes the sensations that shape people, and it is through this brush with the casual and everyday that the significance of his characters is recognized.