The Rest of Life is comprised of three novellas. They may as well be one. There is such a strong similarity in these stories of a woman, the lover she changed and the love that changed her. Which would be okay... if the stories were interesting. These were not.What makes Mary Gordon's three novellas particularly ineffectual was the overall lack of story. Yeah, that's that one element, you know, the one which some writers feel is vital, while others think it can be completely discarded. Gordon is obviously in the latter camp. You get quite a bit of internal thought in these stories as the protagonists are pouring a cup of tea, or getting dressed, or sitting in an empty room. Page after page of thought. Then someone speaks, and again the protagonist gets lost in thought. Maybe if these women had some thought that really motivated me to read one... or thoughts that were unique from one to the next... but no--they all just think the same: Will he leave me? I'm sure he will. I hope not, but it's destined. The way he's sitting makes me think of his cock. I love his cock. And his balls. I hope I get to snuggle up against them later before he leaves me. No thanks.There really is little forward movement in these stories. Thus, there is little to recall after finishing them. My complete summary of the book could be summarized by the official synopsis at the top of this page. I have nothing else to add; perhaps because nothing else actually happened.
