An Ambitious Woman A Novel

She is also the author of the young adult novel Belzhar.

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Wolitzer lives in New York City. It felt true to life.

Her novels blend philosophical matters with acute social commentary, grappling with ideas as robust as the characters she brings to life. A work of imagination and intelligence that deserves a wide readership. The pages are peppered with little bonbons of accuracy.

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Buy the Audiobook Download: Apple Audible downpour eMusic audiobooks. Also by Meg Wolitzer. Inspired by Your Browsing History. Looking for More Great Reads? Download our Spring Fiction Sampler Now. LitFlash The eBooks you want at the lowest prices. Read it Forward Read it first. Man has said let it all be Brooklyn, and it is all Brooklyn.

But the sovereign dreariness of Greenpoint, like an unpropitiated god, still remains.

Its melancholy, its ugliness, its torpor, its neglect, all preserve an unimpaired novelty. It is very near New York, and yet in atmosphere, suggestion, vitality, it is leagues away. No Charon rows you across, though your short trip has too often the most funereal associations. You take passage in a squat little steamboat at either of two eastern ferries, and are lucky if a hearse with its satellite coaches should fail to embark in your company; for, curiously, the one enlivening fact associable with Greenpoint is its close nearness to a famed Roman Catholic cemetery.

It is doubtful if the unkempt child wading in the muddy gutter ever turns his frowzy head when these dismal retinues stream past him. They are always streaming past him; they are as much a part of this lazy environ as the big, ghostly geese that saunter across its ill-tended cobblestones, the dirty goats that nibble at the placards on its many dingy fences, or the dull-faced Germans that plod its semi-paven streets.

Death, that is always so bitter a commonplace, has here become a glaring triteness. Watched, along the main thoroughfare, from porches of liquor-shops and windows of tenement-houses, death has perhaps gained a sombre popularity with not a few shabby gazers. It rides in state, at a dignified pace; it has followers, too, riding deferentially behind it. Sometimes it has martial music, and the pomp of military escort. Life seldom has any of this, in Greenpoint.

It cannot ride, or rarely. It must walk, and strain to keep its strength even for that.

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