Back When We Were Grownups
Anne Tyler
āļ.āļ. 2001 · Penguin Random House Audio · āļāļĢāļĢāļĒāļēāļĒāđāļāļĒ Blair Brown
headphones
āļŦāļāļąāļāļŠāļ·āļāđāļŠāļĩāļĒāļ
8 āļāļĄ. 57 āļāļēāļāļĩ
āļāļāļąāļāļŠāļĄāļāļđāļĢāļāđ
family_home
āļĄāļĩāļŠāļīāļāļāļīāđ
info
reportāļāļ°āđāļāļāđāļĨāļ°āļĢāļĩāļ§āļīāļ§āđāļĄāđāđāļāđāļĢāļąāļāļāļēāļĢāļāļĢāļ§āļāļŠāļāļāļĒāļ·āļāļĒāļąāļ Â āļāļđāļāđāļāļĄāļđāļĨāđāļāļīāđāļĄāđāļāļīāļĄ
āļāļąāļāļāļąāļ§āļāļĒāđāļēāļāļĢāļ°āļĒāļ°āđāļ§āļĨāļē 10 āļāļēāļāļĩ āđāļāđāļāļļāļāđāļĄāļ·āđāļāđāļĄāđāļāļāļ°āļāļāļāđāļĨāļāđÂ
āđāļāļīāđāļĄ
āđāļāļĩāđāļĒāļ§āļāļąāļāļŦāļāļąāļāļŠāļ·āļāđāļŠāļĩāļĒāļāđāļĨāđāļĄāļāļĩāđ
"Once upon a time, there was a woman who discovered that she had turned into the wrong person." So Anne Tyler opens this irresistible new novel.
The woman is Rebecca Davitch, a fifty-three-year-old grandmother. Is she an impostor in her own life? she asks herself. Is it indeed her own life? Or is it someone elseâs?
On the surface, Beck, as she is known to the Davitch clan, is outgoing, joyous, a natural celebrator. Giving parties is, after all, her vocationâsomething she slipped into even before finishing college, when Joe Davitch spotted her at an engagement party in his familyâs crumbling nineteenth-century Baltimore row house, where giving parties was the family business. What caught his fancy was that she seemed to be having such a wonderful time. Soon this large-spirited older man, a divorcÃĐ with three little girls, swept her into his orbit, and before she knew it she was embracing his extended family plus a child of their own, and hosting endless parties in the ornate, high-ceilinged rooms of The Open Arms.
Now, some thirty years later, after presiding over a disastrous family picnic, Rebecca is caught un-awares by the question of who she really is. How she answers itâhow she tries to recover her girlhood self, that dignified grownup she had once beenâis the story told in this beguiling, funny, and deeply moving novel.
As always with Anne Tylerâs novels, once we enter her world it is hard to leave. But in Back When We Were Grownups she so sharpens our perceptions and awakens so many untapped feelings that we come away not only refreshed and delighted, but also infinitely wiser.
The woman is Rebecca Davitch, a fifty-three-year-old grandmother. Is she an impostor in her own life? she asks herself. Is it indeed her own life? Or is it someone elseâs?
On the surface, Beck, as she is known to the Davitch clan, is outgoing, joyous, a natural celebrator. Giving parties is, after all, her vocationâsomething she slipped into even before finishing college, when Joe Davitch spotted her at an engagement party in his familyâs crumbling nineteenth-century Baltimore row house, where giving parties was the family business. What caught his fancy was that she seemed to be having such a wonderful time. Soon this large-spirited older man, a divorcÃĐ with three little girls, swept her into his orbit, and before she knew it she was embracing his extended family plus a child of their own, and hosting endless parties in the ornate, high-ceilinged rooms of The Open Arms.
Now, some thirty years later, after presiding over a disastrous family picnic, Rebecca is caught un-awares by the question of who she really is. How she answers itâhow she tries to recover her girlhood self, that dignified grownup she had once beenâis the story told in this beguiling, funny, and deeply moving novel.
As always with Anne Tylerâs novels, once we enter her world it is hard to leave. But in Back When We Were Grownups she so sharpens our perceptions and awakens so many untapped feelings that we come away not only refreshed and delighted, but also infinitely wiser.
āđāļāļĩāđāļĒāļ§āļāļąāļāļāļđāđāđāļāđāļ
Anne Tyler was born in Minneapolis, Minnesota and grew up in Raleigh, North Carolina. This is her fifteenth novel; her eleventh novel, Breathing Lessons, won the Pulitzer Prize in 1988. She is a member of the American Academy of Arts and Letters. She lives in Baltimore, Maryland.
āđāļŦāđāļāļ°āđāļāļāļŦāļāļąāļāļŠāļ·āļāđāļŠāļĩāļĒāļāļāļĩāđ
āđāļŠāļāļāļāļ§āļēāļĄāđāļŦāđāļāļāļāļāļāļļāļāđāļŦāđāđāļĢāļēāļĢāļąāļāļĢāļđāđ
āļāđāļāļĄāļđāļĨāļāļēāļĢāļāļąāļ
āļŠāļĄāļēāļĢāđāļāđāļāļāđāļĨāļ°āđāļāđāļāđāļĨāđāļ
āļāļīāļāļāļąāđāļāđāļāļ Google Play Books āļŠāļģāļŦāļĢāļąāļ Android āđāļĨāļ° iPad/iPhone āđāļāļāļāļ°āļāļīāļāļāđāđāļāļĒāļāļąāļāđāļāļĄāļąāļāļīāļāļąāļāļāļąāļāļāļĩāļāļāļāļāļļāļ āđāļĨāļ°āļāđāļ§āļĒāđāļŦāđāļāļļāļāļāđāļēāļāđāļāļāļāļāļāđāļĨāļāđāļŦāļĢāļ·āļāļāļāļāđāļĨāļāđāđāļāđāļāļļāļāļāļĩāđ
āđāļĨāđāļāļāđāļāļāđāļĨāļ°āļāļāļĄāļāļīāļ§āđāļāļāļĢāđ
āļāļļāļāļŠāļēāļĄāļēāļĢāļāļāđāļēāļāļŦāļāļąāļāļŠāļ·āļāļāļĩāđāļāļ·āđāļāļāļēāļ Google Play āđāļāļĒāđāļāđāđāļ§āđāļāđāļāļĢāļēāļ§āđāđāļāļāļĢāđāļāļāļāļāļĄāļāļīāļ§āđāļāļāļĢāđāļāļāļāļāļļāļ
