She is, however, a keen observer of human relationships and an adept creator of recognizablecharacters, and the way she charts her sextet’s progress from youthful inspiration at the Spirit-in-the-Woods camp to adult disenchantment and resignation, mostly in New York City, is expertly done. Wolitzer is not a flashy prose stylist, and her insights, though often accurate, aren’t particularly startling. But still, one wishes that somebody had asked Eugenides to tone it down a little, because comparing Wolitzer’s astutely observed and carefully plotted generational novel to the most brilliantly inventive novel by the 20th century’s most brilliantly inventive writer sets up an expectation that “The Interestings” can never hope to match.Īnd worse than that, the comparison actually highlights one of the key liabilities of Wolitzer’s saga, which follows a group of six creatively inclined friends from their teenage years at an artsy summer camp to middle age: Like many of the novel’s main characters, who dub themselves “The Interestings” and spend their lives trying to live up to that moniker, the novel seems to suffer from an inferiority complex. We shouldn’t blame authors for the praise they receive from their fellow writers, and careful readers have long since come to understand that a fair amount of hyperbole goes into blurbs.

Now, hold on a second - “ The Waves”? Virginia Woolf? “ The Interestings,” the new novel by Meg Wolitzer, arrives with an endorsement from the estimable author of “ The Marriage Plot” and “ Middlesex,” stating that, “Like Virginia Woolf in The Waves, Meg Wolitzer gives us the full picture here.”

First, let’s get this out of the way: Exactly what was Jeffrey Eugenides trying to say?

The interestings novel