I am an Emily Giffin fan. I am an unabashed, unashamed Emily Giffin fan. Her books pull me in the way a good date does, attracting me with a glossy exterior but keeping me interested by revealing a surprising depth.
LOVE THE ONE YOU'RE WITH contains the usual smart, charmed female protagonist living in a rather romanticized version of New York. But, in the first chapter, Giffin does something different. She introduces us to the main character's tempting dilemma - a charged encounter on the street with a hot, old boyfriend - before even telling us her name.
The character's name is Ellen. She's so analytical that she's practically obsessive compulsive. And she spends a lot of LOVE THE ONE YOU'RE WITH debating what she should - and should not - do about her cute, sweet husband Andy and her smoldering, brooding, dark and troubled ex-boyfriend Leo.
While Ellen's happy with Andy, she keeps thinking, "What if?"
This is the central problem of many a novel, but Giffin manages to hook the reader in with - dare I say it - some of the most erotic, intriguing flashbacks to Ellen's former relationship with Leo.
The husband Andy is a charming character, but, in Ellen's shoes, I would totally bang Leo. Giffin writes him as though he exudes sex through his eyes, through his pores. It's all very hard to resist.
And, it must be said, the inclusion of those scenes alongside many snarky references to my hometown of Atlanta kept me very entertained.
Strangely though, instead of flying all the way through it as I usually do, I flew through to Chapter Ten or so, then found myself taking a small break from it to concentrate on other things. Around the time that Ellen went to the charming, stylized Atlanta for the first time and then to photograph rock star Drake Watters, I was intrigued again.
After that, I was pulled back into the book every time that Ellen's sister Suzanne, a minor character with an edgy point-of-view, appeared on the page, though, for she was the voice I most related to in the long course of the book.
The core family of Ellen's in-laws at the center of the book, though, didn't always have my sympathies. In life, I tend to find those sorts of blessed, charmed, passive-aggressive, let's-put-on-a-smile types suspicious. Giffin makes was a very, very interesting move to have Ellen not just marry a man like Andy, but marry into her best friend and sister-in-law Margot's family. Giffin's excellent at exploring the dynamics of female friendship, and the Ellen-Margot friendship is satisfyingly complicated.
When Ellen is perplexed by her ex, she loses her chief confidante in Margot, for Margot's loyalty might go to her brother when news of what Ellen's secrets might come out.
The changing alliances of the marriage brings out Ellen's insecurity about her place, her feelings about her mother and how her own family must've felt intimidated and outmatched in comparison to the Grahams. Great, great stuff.
Of course, the protagonist Ellen might divide readers, for Ellen's in what many women would consider an ideal, supportive situation with a rich, successful and essentially sweet husband, loving in-laws, a nice house, a good career and such. Some readers might approach the book with the outset of "What the hell is she doing even thinking about infidelity when she's got it made?" But, once again, Giffin impresses by putting her protagonist squarely in the middle of what, at face value, seems like an indefensible position and manages to make her real, charming, vulnerable, reasonable and a heroine worthy of my attention as a reader and even my heart. Ellen, shockingly, considers infidelity for what feels like very valid reasons involving her heart and her choices.
It's a very smart book.
