CRUSH

A happily married wife and mother discovers the crazy joy of a new love.

Calhoun’s debut novel, following the wonderful memoir Also a Poet (2022), is chock-full of great lines, both hers and quotations from other writers. At the beginning of the extramarital emotional affair that is the subject of the novel, she observes, “Crushes had always made me feel powerful. This was the opposite. I was lit up, but I wasn’t in control. None of my old tricks worked anymore. I was rich in a defunct currency. A trillion zloty and I couldn’t buy a stick of gum.” While the whole situation begins when her husband, Paul, suggests that they incorporate some flexibility into their marriage, the unnamed narrator’s interest in David, “a handsome friend from college,” quickly outstrips any planned limits and becomes completely consuming. After six weeks of email correspondence comprising 182,000 words in total, they meet on Zoom with cataclysmic results: “We stared at each other. I thought I might die; the cause of death would be a desire to tousle his hair.” Readers of Also a Poet will notice that the narrator’s cranky, ailing, self-centered father seems an autobiographical element, and will appreciate the satisfying resolution of the relationship offered here. The novel bogs down a bit once the crush has peaked; it gets less funny and creeps toward annoyingly rhapsodic. “Since David and I had started talking, I’d had more new experiences than at any time since babyhood, when I was learning to walk and talk and eat solid food. Loving him had been my liberation. Everything had blown up and everything seemed deliriously possible.” But of those possibilities, the one that occurs is exactly what you would expect. Oh, well. That’s delirium for you.

Anything Ada Calhoun wants to write is well worth reading.