Jane Smiley - Duplicate Keys

Jane Smiley is the Pulitzer Prize-winning author of A Thousand Acres and more than ten other works of fiction, including Horse Heaven, Moo, and The Greenlanders. In 2001 she was inducted into the American Academy of Arts and Letters. She lives in northern California.

GOOD FAITH

A vindication of the traditional American novel. It depicts its disquiet by means of rich, seamless prose, scenic immediacy and tight plotting. Its a true winner.
St. Louis Post-Dispatch

Forthright, likable Joe Stratford is the kind of local businessman everybody trusts, for good reason. But its 1982, and even in Joes small town, values are in upheaval: not just property values, either. Enter Marcus Burns, a would-be master of the universe whose years with the IRS have taught him which rules are meant to be broken. Before long he and Joe are new best friendsand partners in an investment venture so complex that no one may ever understand it. Add to this Joes roller-coaster affair with his mentors married daughter. The result is as entertaining as any of Smileys fiction.

Fiction/Literature/0-385-72105-6

THE AGE OF GRIEF

A glorious achievement. Infinitely satisfying. A triumph.
The New York Times Book Review

With a wry intelligence and a lively comic touch, The Age of Grief captures moments of great intimacy with grace, clarity, and indelible emotional power. In The Pleasure of Her Company, a lonely, single woman befriends a married couple, hoping to learn the secret of their happiness. In Long Distance, a man is relieved of the obligation to continue an affair that is no longer compelling to him, only to be waylaid by the guilt he feels at his easy escape. And in the wise and moving title novella, a dentist, aware that his wife has fallen in love with someone else, must comfort her when she is spurned, while enduring his own complicated sorrow.

Fiction/Literature/0-385-72187-0

A THOUSAND ACRES

A full, commanding novel. A story bound and tethered to a lonely road in the Midwest, but drawn from a universal source. Profoundly American.The Boston Globe

When Larry Cook, the aging patriarch of a rich, thriving farm in Iowa, decides to retire, he offers his land to his three daughters. For Ginny and Rose, who live on the farm with their husbands, the gift makes good sensea reward for years of hard work and a challenge to make the farm even more successful. But the youngest, Caroline, a Des Moines lawyer, flatly rejects the idea, and in anger the father cuts her out of the will. This sets off a chain of events that brings dark truths to light and explodes long-suppressed emotions. An ambitious reimagining of Shakespeares King Lear cast upon a typical American community, Jane Smileys Pulitzer Prize-winning A Thousand Acres takes on themes of truth, justice, love, and pride and reveals the beautiful yet treacherous topography of humanity.

Fiction/Literature/1-4000-3383-7

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1

I HAD a key. I was there to water Susans plants, but Ive always had a key. Each of the guys in the band would have one, and other friends, too. Across from Alice, Police Detective Honey jotted something on a pad. When he moved his hand, Alice read, upside down, ? keys out. She said, Once on the subway I overheard a guy with a suitcase say to someone else, Richie knows a place where we can sleep. Hes got a key. I didnt know any Richie, but I cant say I was surprised when the guy on the subway turned up at Susans apartment a day or so later, and let himself in. He wasnt a bad kid. I mean, he came to Manhattan to take a management trainee job with RCA, but nobody knew him, and he did have a key.

Detective Honey looked at her attentively, but didnt write anything down. In the years Alice had lived in New York, she had never actually spoken to a New York cop. Although reassured by his wide, bland face, she wondered if he was on the take. She coughed into her hand, which was trembling, and went on as if with a psychiatrist. It took a long time for the implications of that to faze Denny and Susan, and by that time everyone had a key. Then they talked about changing the locks, but it was a lot of money and trouble, and anyway, Denny was afraid of seeming hostile. Detective Honey grimaced and shook his head. Alice said, I thought it was stupid, too.

You were watering the plants, Miss Ellis?

Mrs. I was supposed to. I told Susan I would come every three days, even if the, uh, men were around, because she didnt really trust them to keep everything watered. Maybe you saw that she has beautiful plants. Thinking of the plants made her think of Denny and Craig. She winced. Detective Honey said, And Miss Gabriel is where?

In the Adirondacks. She should be home tomorrow night.

In the Adirondacks in May?

She usually goes at odd times of the year. Theres a cabin she rents, and its too expensive in the summer.

Have you accompanied her to this cabin?

No one has. It doesnt even have a telephone, and you have to hike in about three miles. Anyway, she hasnt ever really invited anyone. I think she likes the break.

The break?

Alice sat up straighter. Well, getting away. You know. Shes a very busy person, dealing with customers all day, and Her voice faded.

Detective Honey touched the tip of his pencil to the notepad, then suggested, So you were there on Wednesday, and came back today? All of his questions were mere suggestions posed with studied casualness that convinced Alice she was a suspect and made her feel craven. I was there on Tuesday, actually, but I couldnt get back till today. She cleared her throat. I left my place about ten or ten-fifteen. I walked down Broadway, and bought a paper at Seventy-ninth Street. The vendor knows me. Its ten blocks from my place, so it must have taken me about twenty minutes. I didnt see anyone. I let myself in, because there isnt a doorman, and went up the elevator to the sixth floor. Ive been in that building almost more than Ive been in my own, so Im very familiar with everything about it. Nothing was different. I mean, out of place or anything. Honey drew his left hand across the paper and wrote behind it. I opened the door. Everything was very neat. With the light streaming in, arrowing among the spikes of succulents, the ivy vines, the heavy, glossy leaves of avocados, the silvered masses of cyclamen, the rosy coleus. Drapes open, skylights blue with sunshine. Alice swallowed, but something in her throat would neither go down nor come up. The detective said, Did you step into the room before you saw them?