WE ARE TOO MANY

Conversations, remembered and imagined, surrounding a divorce.

Pittard, author of several novels, begins this deconstruction of her marriage—her less successful writer husband, Patrick (names are changed), left her for her so-called best friend, Trish—with an introduction justifying its existence. In 2017, the author published a long essay in the Sewanee Review about the situation, but readers wanted more—“the nasty bits.” Clearly, it’s about more than just that: "What began as a response to curious readers has since morphed into an investigation into the intersection of memory, self, honesty, and personal accounting—an investigation that sharply questions the legitimacy, ownership, and accuracy of personal and shared memories." The first half of the book, which is interesting to read in a salacious, other-people's-private-business way, presents a series of scenes, written in script format with stage directions, between her, Patrick, Trish, and a few other characters. Scenes include: "July 2016—Hannah Discovers Her Husband Is Having an Affair"; "June 2012—Four Years Earlier, Patrick Proposes”; "Fall 2005—Hannah & Trish Discuss Live Bands and Eating Disorders”; "February 2014—Nine Years Later, Hannah & Patrick Discuss Having Children." The fractured chronology sometimes makes it tricky to follow, but overall this part is snappy and controlled, an addition to the growing canon of women writers figuring out fun formal ways to liven up a sad story of betrayal. The second section is less charming, envisioning a dialogue in second person with an imagined version of her husband. Here, bitterness and TMI prevail. About his career, she says, "It’s like you took one look at me—simple, boring, uptight me—and thought, Jesus, if she can do it, then surely so can I….But nothing got taken; nothing got published." In response, the imagined husband says: "This is gross. I feel dirty even tolerating this conversation."

Connoisseurs of divorce memoirs will enjoy the inventive style choices and unusually nasty details.