Love, marriage and monogamy
Non-monogamy and polyamory figure in “Next Year For Sure,” true, but reductively describing Zoey Leigh Peterson’s stylish debut novel as “about open relationships” pretty much misses the point.
The novel does provoke, though, in the best ways.
It’s bound to spark reactions about what Margaret Atwood once titled Power Politics (and Anna Quindlen later called “A Great Divide”): Women and men and their evidently wildly differing expectations, outlooks and needs.
And the questions the novel effortlessly incites — such as, “How much and what is fair to ask for in a romantic relationship?” and “When does freedom (or compromise) become damaging?” — are crucial, productive ones to answer.
Opening on a weekend of West Coast camping, “Next Year” traces events over one year (with the exception of “May” to “August,” titles of four grin-inducing chapters that feature no actual content).
The story focuses on a stable and happy seeming pair, Kathryn and Chris.
For a couple approaching a milestone 10th anniversary, they’re admirably in love and smitten with one another.
Evidently unified, they’re honest, kind and caring — the very opposite of Martha and George in “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf.” Neither wealthy nor markedly ambitious, they’re each other’s pillar of support (if lacking pep in the sex department).
When Chris meets Emily, he’s enchanted by her free-spirited je ne sais quoi. Kathryn understands; she gets crushes, too.
Chris asks if going on a date with this woman is acceptable. Kathryn agrees: she’s thought it over, and no truly compelling reason to say no comes to mind.
With that, Peterson’s domino effect begins.
For readers, the plot is naturally enthralling, for not only do we have no idea where Kathryn’s permission will lead, but we can delight in the dry comedy of numerous situations (with a visit from Chris’s unsympathetic mother and Kathryn’s rapidly crumbling relationship with a holier-than-thou brideto-be being particularly amusing), and empathize with the emotional plights of each half.
Better still, Peterson’s a marvel at showcasing her capability for anatomizing a human trait: agreeing to something in principle, but experiencing emotional responses that complicate that rational decision.
And handy too: witnessing Kathryn and Chris’s experiment, we can learn from their mistakes without the pain of the first-hand experience.