When my now-husband and I announced we were getting married, my uncle called to congratulate him and offer wisdom. “Remember,” he said, “marriage is an amalgamation of families, not just two people.” At the time, I found this notion appallingly unromantic. I went more for a Pablo Neruda vibe (“where there’s no me or you,/so intimate that your hand is on my chest is my hand, so intimate that/when I fall asleep your eyes close”). I understood that corporate-speak might apply to other weddings but not ours, thank you very much.
Two decades and many family meals and holiday negotiations later, I was reminded of my uncle’s foresight while reading Monica Ali’s fifth novel, LOVE MARRIAGE (Scribner, 419 pp., $27.99)† This elaborate buffet of storytelling begins with the meeting of two families whose grown children—both apparently grown and generally sane—marry. The highly orchestrated breaking of the bread (or, more accurately, the scooping of curry) will take place in the posh London home of Harriet Sangster, mother of the groom. In this setting, the engaged couple, Yasmin and Joe, immediately lose the spotlight to their parents, who are such lively characters, they practically waltz off the page handing readers save-the-date cards.
But let’s not get ahead of ourselves: we are talking about a complicated merger. On the one hand, we have Harriet, an outspoken feminist known for her polyamorous pursuits and intimate portraiture (imagine a cross between Erica Jong and Gloria Steinem); Joe’s father is largely out of the picture. And on the other hand, we have Yasmin’s parents: Shaokat, a doctor who is immensely proud of his daughter for following in his footsteps (unlike her useless brother, Arif); and Anisah, a soap opera enthusiast who pays a lot of attention to the household arts. The Ghoramis come from different backgrounds – “the wealthy Calcutta girl and the poor but smart village boy.” According to family lore, Kismet brought them together.
The meeting couldn’t have been more touching, with Yasmin hoping Harriet won’t mention her latest project (a book of interviews with men about their penises, accompanied by “de-erotic” photos) and Anisah pushing for a more religious ceremony than the couple had in mind. You can remove the awkwardness with a scalpel. But what follows makes Harriet’s condescending musings about her time in India downright tactful.
Ali’s opening salvo is just a prelude to a barrage of secrets, missed connections, and infidelities that will not only topple Yasmin and Joe’s alliance, but force them to see the worlds they come from with fresh eyes. I’ve come to care deeply about this flawed couple, whose fate Ali unfolds with obvious glee and a touch of poetry. (Her debut novel, “Brick Lane,” was a critical darling, but my personal favorite of her books is “Untold Story,” a reinterpretation of Princess Diana’s life.) New alliances are formed. Another family takes shape. Professional loyalty is shifting. I’m tap dancing around a dozen spoilers here – suffice to say there are loads of subplots (sometimes too many) and a character shyness (some easier to follow than others). But somehow, like a loud wedding where everyone ends up on the dance floor, the chaos is part of the fun.