Less Is Lost (Arthur Less #2)

by Andrew Sean Greer

But I can say: I have never seen America. But I need to, perhaps to understand my partner—his love of colonial-era ketchup and Prohibition-era “root beer,” the Mont Blanc of ice in every sip of water, his terror of talking about race, his fascination with the island of Great Britain and indifference to the continent of Africa, his defense of the Democratic Party, his defense of the Fahrenheit scale, his belief, despite centuries of evidence to the contrary, that we are free to become our true selves, that we are free to love as we choose, that happiness is within our grasp if we reach for it. Perhaps. But also—to understand myself. What if you had to wake up every day with someone promising a miracle, and every day you believed it, and every day it didn’t happen? Don’t we all look at our beloveds sometimes and think, Why do I stay? Why do we stay? There is something vital in staying.