StillILearn
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Anne Tyler has a new book out:
Digging to America
Anne Tyler's Baltimore has changed significantly since her first book appeared more than 40 years ago. Until now, though, her voice has remained remarkably consistent. Her prose is at once unpretentious and elegiac, like a photograph by Dorothea Lange, and her imagery has staying power. Taken together, the distinct but overlapping worlds of her novels have formed a Sensurround literary record of the 20th-century American family — or, at least, of the proud but troubled archetypal families that once interested her most.
A writer like Tyler can hardly have been immune to family influence herself. But her inner circle has narrowed. Her husband, the Iranian-born psychiatrist Taghi Modarressi, died nearly 10 years ago, and in January her mother, Phyllis Tyler, an ardent social activist, died at the age of 88. Her obituary in the Raleigh News & Observer reads eerily like a précis of one of her daughter's novels. In the 1930's, she picketed in support of coal miners; in the 1940's, she married and moved with her husband to a commune, where they raised goats and organic vegetables; in the 1960's, she protested against the Vietnam War; in the 1970's, she and her husband took up residence in the Middle East, helping refugees in Gaza; in the 1980's, she fought the death penalty, advocated for battered women and wrote newspaper articles about everyday heroes, like a singing trash man. How could a writer's character not be imprinted by such a presence? In its absence, who do you turn to? One senses that, like Dave Donaldson, the bereaved grandfather of "Digging to America," Tyler has begun to shift her focus as she wrestles with the question of how an individual moves forward. With the map she's sketching, she's no longer in search of buried treasure; she's in search of the road ahead.
Digging to America