This book was something of a loosely-collected story of the beginning and… possibly the end… of a marriage. Though it held together as a narrative it resembled a montage of impressions and scenes than a particularly directed plot. I’m not sure what to think of it, really - despite the sad story, the book doesn’t really feel particularly sad. It’s too matter-of-fact for that, too interesting to think about the themes that run through it while losing focus of the larger human drama. In a sense it’s the opposite of The Course of Love in that way. I have to admit: while I enjoyed reading the story, the looseness of the plot made it easy to forget!