He loves me, he loves me not. If you love something, set it free. You only hurt the one you love. Love conquers all.
We’ve all heard these clichés a million times, but you know what they say – it’s a cliché for a reason. These are all age-old sayings generally based in truth, which Emily Giffin confronts and examines in her novel “Love the One You’re With” (yet another aptly put cliché), a story about a newlywed’s struggle with what love and marriage should be, finding an identity in and out of her relationship and letting go of past lovers.
Ellen Graham, the novel’s main character, is recently married to Andy, her best friend’s brother, and thinks she has her whole life figured out. However, a chance encounter with her only significant ex, Leo, throws her for a curve she never expected and catapults her into unfamiliar territory as she questions the authenticity of both her current feelings for her husband and her supposedly long-gone feelings for her ex.
It all starts when Ellen and Leo literally run into one another on a crowded New York sidewalk and begin an increasingly frequent and inappropriate correspondence that makes Ellen question just where the line should be drawn when it comes to relationships with ex-lovers – especially sexy, passionate ex-lovers who seem to incite an excitement that Ellen is afraid is fading from her marriage.
The internal turmoil Ellen faces every time Leo contacts her or when she gives in to her pressing desire to speak with him raises the question of just how close of a “friendship” is appropriate with significant exes once married – and if the very fact that the ex is considered significant negates the possibility of a friendship being deemed acceptable.
While this may all seem a bit trite or even over-done, Giffin’s witty and easy-to-read writing creates a feeling of sympathizing with a good friend rather than making it easy to condemn Ellen for her desires.
As the main character, Ellen is likable and generally down-to-earth – a very important trait in a character teetering on the brink of cheating on an overall nice guy. Despite her shortcomings, Giffin kept me rooting for Ellen, and in doing so, also kept me engrossed in how the story would play out.
Rather than allowing either Andy or Leo to be the obvious pick throughout the novel, Giffin creates two such strikingly different men that neither one can be demonized, and thus shows the way that love can be unsure – even after marriage. Even though Ellen’s indecisiveness grows a little frustrating, Giffin manages to keep the book from being predictable by making both Andy and Leo legitimate choices.
Ellen’s teeter-totter between her artistic, emotional side that draws her to Leo and her huge desire to feel the sense of belonging that pulls her to Andy is further intensified by her family history. Giffin interweaves a troubled childhood centered around Ellen’s mother’s premature death into every facet of her adult life.
It is this lack of strong family ties that causes her to cling to Andy’s “perfect” family and their total envelopment of her as one of their own – which raises the questions of how far you should go to fit into your spouse’s world and at what point fitting in begins to feel like changing who you are. This inclusion of family issues adds another dimension to the story that keeps it from seeming played out or inconsequential at times.
Overall, I found “Love The One You’re With” to be a fun read without being too light. Although it was a welcome escape from biology textbooks and medieval literature, it still made me think and kept me guessing. There were flaws – the ending, although satisfying, felt a little rushed, and Ellen’s constant flip-flopping grew annoying – but altogether, Giffin created another gem in her already impressive collection of books written in the same vein. I’ve come to expect thought-provoking, relatable novels that still provide the much-needed diversion that any homework-weary college student craves. This one was no exception.