THE DAUGHTERS OF ERIETOWN

The evolving role of women in middle America in the second half of the 20th century is illuminated by the story of one Ohio family, its secrets and failures, its hopes and dreams.

The heart of this American domestic epic is expressed pretty neatly midway through by a delivery nurse tending to Ellie McGinty at the birth of her second child, an event missed by her troubled husband, Brick, and coordinated by a neighbor. Was it always like this? asks Ellie. Did women always have to rely on other women? "A woman’s world has always revolved around…other women," the nurse replies. "We love our men, and the idea of a husband is a good thing. What woman wouldn’t want that?” Pulitzer Prize–winning journalist Schultz studies that question through generations of women: Ellie’s paternal grandmother, Ada, who raises the child her son abandoned; Brick’s mother, trapped in a brutally violent marriage that produced 12 children; Ellie herself, whose precipitous marriage to Brick in many ways marks the ruin of both of their lives; their daughter Samantha, who comes of age with Motown and career options. Like Jennifer Weiner’s Mrs. Everything, except with Catholics instead of Jews, the novel sharply illuminates evolving social mores and tucks in plenty of womanly wisdom. We go from Peyton Place (1956) to The Women’s Room (1977)—and, cleverly, both books make cameo appearances in the plot. More cleverness energizes the dialogue. How old were you when you fell in love with Grandpa? asks young Ellie in an early scene. “I’ll let you know,” Ada replies. “We only had five or six boys to pick from, and two got eliminated for inbreeding.” The minor characters in Schultz's fictional Erietown include some from central casting (a spinster aunt with a career, a caring basketball coach) and a few we haven’t seen as much of (including a somewhat sympathetic home-wrecker).

A masterful debut novel.