Amazon.com Review
Had Diogenes lived today, instead of searching for an honest man, he would have been swinging his lantern in hopes of hitting a well-balanced psychiatrist. Or so fiction would generally have one believe. Psychiatrists in novels generally fall into one of two categories: they are either cold, insensitive, and all-around clueless when it comes to their nearest and dearest (see
Fear of Flying's Benjamin Wing) or they are wackier than their patients--often in dark and twisted ways. Philip Tate, the hero of John L'Heureux's
Having Everything, belongs to this second group. Married to a beautiful woman, the father of two terrific children, and recently appointed to a prestigious position at Harvard Medical School, Tate would seem to have an ideal existence. Too ideal, of course, or there'd be nothing to write a novel about:
They had everything, their kids and their lives and their health, and they were good-looking, with enough money, and they loved one another--didn't they?--and yet they were wrecking it, somehow, in spite of themselves.
Tate's wife, Maggie, it seems, is an alcoholic. And Tate himself struggles with the compulsion to break into stranger's houses; one night, he goes too far, breaking into a colleague's house with consequences that will haunt him through the rest of the novel. In
Having Everything, L'Heureux suggests that success is only skin deep, and demonstrates how difficult it really is to have it all.
--Margaret Prior
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.
From Publishers Weekly
Boston psychiatrists and their loved ones nearly wreck one another's privileged lives in L'Heureux's witty but labored 14th novel. Philip Tate, 45, has just been appointed a prestigious Chair in the psychiatry department at Harvard Medical School. At first blush, Tate seems to have it all: he is a good-looking man of professional renown with a beautiful, urbane wife, Maggie, and two handsome, serious, over-achieving adult children, Cole and Emma. But it doesn't take long to see what's wrong with this picture: Maggie is frigid, unfulfilled and an alcoholic; passion and sympathy between her and Philip have all but disintegrated. Moreover, Philip has rediscovered his adolescent predilection for breaking into people's houses. When, after a disastrous department dinner, Philip sneaks into the sprawling home of Hal Kizer, an arrogant young psychiatrist with a very public interest in sex, and his gorgeous, unstable wife, Dixie, he sets off a calamitous set of events. Drunk and semiconscious, Dixie becomes enraptured with Philip's gentle manner, and they begin an affair. Meanwhile, Maggie is trying to finish the Ph.D. in English she abandoned to help Philip through medical school. Her bafflement and depression over new-style literary theory exacerbate her alcoholism and resentment. Philip attempts to restore balance by calling upon his esteemed sobriety and resolve. L'Heureux (The Handmaid of Desire) observes Philip and Maggie well enough, but neither the central couple, their offspring, nor their friends ever develop genuinely individuating inner lives. Some characters find redemption in art, one meets a cruel end, and others continue to battle expectations and propriety, armed with selective self-appraisals, therapy and good intentions. Their ineffectual attempts to escape their flaws fail to add momentum to this heavily ironic chronicle of professional success, inward misery, and middle-aged sexual guilt. (Sept.)
Copyright 1999 Reed Business Information, Inc.
--This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.