The final paragraph of the story has a promising ring: "I did not look very
much longer, but took a train that got me into Newark just as die sun was rising
on the first day of the Jewish New Year. I was back in plenty of time for work" (p.
97). The image of the rising sun suggests that Neil is going to make a new start in
life, and that Newark, as indicated earlier, is his real home after all. It is not the
region associated widi the parental generation of Jews, but his own Newark, as it
were, a place where he can maintain the self that he has struggled toward during
this summer of lovemaking and taking his own measure against various temptations,
absurdities, and illusions. He returns to the library with a new and greater awareness
of its attractions and limitations. It is, after all, an institution where culture, art,
and dreams are allowed a kind of existence which is impossible in the other environments
that he has known, and it is located in a neighborhood that has preserved
a certain room for individuality and a measure of freedom. It is only here that Neil
may protect and develop, however imperfectly, the identity that is his.
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Rereading the story, it’s interesting to me how completely unlikable both the characters are—and that’s revolutionary. Yes, it’s a love story, but it’s bigger than just about Neil and Brenda. In a funny way, it’s a love story about culture clash and value clash. Mr. Patimkin started out like Neil, with just about nothing, but he grew rich, and to him, giving his kids anything their hearts desire, be it coats or dresses, or a way out of an affair that was meant to wound them, is his pleasure. And because of Roth’s genius, it becomes the reader’s pleasure as well.