Cover of All Fours
    Fiction

    All Fours

    by July;, Miranda
    Miranda July’s 2024 novel All Fours follows a 45-year-old semi-famous artist who disrupts her stable Los Angeles life with her husband and child by impulsively announcing a cross-country road trip. The journey becomes a catalyst for self-discovery as she grapples with midlife crises, sexual awakening, and perimenopause, culminating in an unexpected affair. Blending humor and poignancy, the novel explores themes of desire, identity, and the search for reinvention in middle age. July’s autofictional style and candid portrayal of female experience have drawn comparisons to a “perimenopause novel,” marking it as a distinctive entry in contemporary literature.

    The chap­ter opens with the nar­ra­tor reflect­ing on her delayed jour­ney to New York, which took four years instead of the antic­i­pat­ed six days. Now 49, she ques­tions whether her odyssey—marked by sym­bol­ic ele­ments like cliffs, caves, and a gold­en ring—has tru­ly trans­formed her. She longs for a test to prove her growth, con­trast­ing her cur­rent self with who she was four years ago. As she flies to Brook­lyn for her book tour, she grap­ples with unre­solved feel­ings, scrolling through old pho­tos and hes­i­tant­ly reach­ing out to an old flame, Dav­ey, before final­ly send­ing a casu­al yet loaded text.

    Mid-flight, the narrator’s exchange with Dav­ey becomes increas­ing­ly awk­ward and nos­tal­gic. He responds warm­ly, reveal­ing he’s also in New York and invites her to an event he’s host­ing. Their con­ver­sa­tion dances around the past, with both avoid­ing direct ref­er­ences to their shared his­to­ry. The nar­ra­tor agrees to attend, mask­ing her ner­vous­ness with enthu­si­asm. Upon land­ing, her anx­i­ety man­i­fests phys­i­cal­ly dur­ing a slow cab ride into the city, where hunger and an uniden­ti­fied unease unset­tle her.

    Back in her hotel room, the narrator’s dis­com­fort esca­lates into a bizarre phys­i­cal ordeal: every time she clos­es her eyes, she expe­ri­ences a ter­ri­fy­ing sen­sa­tion of falling. Pan­icked and unable to sleep, she reach­es out to her friend Jor­di for help. Jor­di diag­noses the symp­toms as ver­ti­go, pos­si­bly caused by air pres­sure changes or hor­mon­al fluc­tu­a­tions, and guides her through the Epley maneuver—a series of head move­ments to repo­si­tion a dis­lodged ear crys­tal. The nar­ra­tor attempts the exer­cise, com­par­ing it to a chore­o­graphed dance.

    As the chap­ter con­cludes, the narrator’s ver­ti­go becomes a metaphor for her emo­tion­al tur­bu­lence. The phys­i­cal dis­ori­en­ta­tion mir­rors her unre­solved feel­ings about Dav­ey and the uncer­tain­ties of her new rela­tion­ship. The chap­ter blends humor and vul­ner­a­bil­i­ty, cap­tur­ing the narrator’s strug­gle to nav­i­gate past and present while con­fronting the unex­pect­ed chal­lenges of mid­dle age. The cliffhang­er leaves her mid-maneu­ver, sym­bol­iz­ing her ongo­ing jour­ney toward bal­ance and clar­i­ty.

    FAQs

    • 1. How does the narrator’s planned cross-country trip contrast with her actual journey to New York four years later?

      Answer:
      The narrator initially envisioned a transformative six-day road trip at age 45, framing it as an odyssey with metaphorical “cliffs and caves” that might test her growth. Instead, she flies to New York at 49 for a book tour, reflecting on how time has passed without the dramatic transformation she anticipated. The chapter highlights her unresolved questions about personal change through this contrast—the idealized, rigorous journey versus the mundane reality of air travel and professional obligations (pages 313-314).

      2. Analyze the significance of the narrator’s vertigo episode in relation to the chapter’s themes.

      Answer:
      The sudden onset of vertigo—triggered by a displaced “crystal” in her ear—mirrors the narrator’s broader existential disorientation. Just as she questions whether her four-year journey yielded real growth (“Was I really any different?”), the vertigo physically manifests her instability. The condition’s name (shared with Hitchcock’s film about obsession and illusion) and its cure (the Epley maneuver’s deliberate movements) symbolically parallel her need to methodically reorient herself emotionally, particularly regarding her unresolved connection with Davey (pages 315-316).

      3. What does the exchange with Davey reveal about the narrator’s emotional state and unresolved past?

      Answer:
      Their text conversation oscillates between casualness and tension, exposing the narrator’s lingering attachment. Her impulsive message about the tiles (a shared memory) and subsequent regret show unresolved feelings, while Davey’s nonchalant “Hahaha” and invitation to his event underscore their emotional mismatch. Her deleted draft (“You might recognize some parts”) hints at autobiographical elements in her book, suggesting she still processes their relationship through her art. The interaction leaves her unsettled, mirroring her physical vertigo (pages 314-315).

      4. How does the chapter use humor to undercut the narrator’s anxiety? Provide examples.

      Answer:
      The narrator’s dark humor surfaces in moments of distress, revealing her coping mechanisms. For instance, her frantic joke to the cab driver about a “buoyant forcefield” around Manhattan—which she recognizes as “insane”—contrasts with his practical response (offering gum). Later, her melodramatic internal monologue (“mythological riddle”) about being unable to sleep amplifies her panic, yet the absurdity of comparing vertigo to a labyrinthine trial adds levity. Even the Epley maneuver’s resemblance to an avant-garde dance (Trio A) injects whimsy into her medical crisis (pages 314-316).

      5. Evaluate Jordi’s role as a stabilizing force in the narrator’s crisis. What might this suggest about their relationship?

      Answer:
      Jordi’s calm, solution-oriented support (“Put me on speakerphone… Get some air”) contrasts with the narrator’s spiral, marking her as an emotional anchor. Her immediate research into vertigo and guided instructions (the Epley maneuver) demonstrate reliability, while the narrator’s gratitude (“Dear God, thank you for this woman”) implies deep trust. Their dynamic—avoiding melodrama (“a little new for this degree of shit-losing”)—suggests a healthy partnership where vulnerability is tempered by mutual care, foreshadowing growth beyond the narrator’s past relational patterns (page 316).

    Quotes

    • 1. “In the end it took me four years—not six days—to get to New York, and I didn’t drive there, I flew. The first stop of my book tour was a reading in Brooklyn. I stared out the airplane window and thought about the cross-country trip that was meant to rigorously transform me at forty-five. Now I was forty-nine.”

      This opening passage sets the reflective tone of the chapter, highlighting the gap between expectations and reality in personal growth. The narrator’s delayed journey becomes a metaphor for life’s unpredictable timelines.

      2. “When it’s been long enough you don’t even have to refer to the past, for all he knew I barely remembered him. I chewed ice from my plastic cup.”

      This poignant observation captures the complex emotions of reconnecting with someone from your past. The physical detail of chewing ice subtly conveys nervous energy and emotional distance.

      This transition marks a turning point where the narrator’s physical discomfort mirrors her emotional unease. The mundane observation about blinking becomes significant foreshadowing for the vertigo episode.

      4. “The moment I shut my eyes I felt as if I were falling from a great height such that I immediately sat up and threw my eyes open with a shout.”

      This vivid description of vertigo serves as both a physical crisis and a metaphor for the narrator’s psychological state. The sudden loss of control parallels her earlier reflections on life’s unpredictability.

      5. “‘Vertigo,’ like the Hitchcock movie; it was a real thing. I stepped away from the window.”

      This moment connects the physical symptom to broader cultural references, suggesting the narrator’s tendency to frame personal experiences through artistic lenses. The simple act of stepping away shows her attempt to regain control.

    Quotes

    1. “In the end it took me four years—not six days—to get to New York, and I didn’t drive there, I flew. The first stop of my book tour was a reading in Brooklyn. I stared out the airplane window and thought about the cross-country trip that was meant to rigorously transform me at forty-five. Now I was forty-nine.”

    This opening passage sets the reflective tone of the chapter, highlighting the gap between expectations and reality in personal growth. The narrator’s delayed journey becomes a metaphor for life’s unpredictable timelines.

    2. “When it’s been long enough you don’t even have to refer to the past, for all he knew I barely remembered him. I chewed ice from my plastic cup.”

    This poignant observation captures the complex emotions of reconnecting with someone from your past. The physical detail of chewing ice subtly conveys nervous energy and emotional distance.

    This transition marks a turning point where the narrator’s physical discomfort mirrors her emotional unease. The mundane observation about blinking becomes significant foreshadowing for the vertigo episode.

    4. “The moment I shut my eyes I felt as if I were falling from a great height such that I immediately sat up and threw my eyes open with a shout.”

    This vivid description of vertigo serves as both a physical crisis and a metaphor for the narrator’s psychological state. The sudden loss of control parallels her earlier reflections on life’s unpredictability.

    5. “‘Vertigo,’ like the Hitchcock movie; it was a real thing. I stepped away from the window.”

    This moment connects the physical symptom to broader cultural references, suggesting the narrator’s tendency to frame personal experiences through artistic lenses. The simple act of stepping away shows her attempt to regain control.

    FAQs

    1. How does the narrator’s planned cross-country trip contrast with her actual journey to New York four years later?

    Answer:
    The narrator initially envisioned a transformative six-day road trip at age 45, framing it as an odyssey with metaphorical “cliffs and caves” that might test her growth. Instead, she flies to New York at 49 for a book tour, reflecting on how time has passed without the dramatic transformation she anticipated. The chapter highlights her unresolved questions about personal change through this contrast—the idealized, rigorous journey versus the mundane reality of air travel and professional obligations (pages 313-314).

    2. Analyze the significance of the narrator’s vertigo episode in relation to the chapter’s themes.

    Answer:
    The sudden onset of vertigo—triggered by a displaced “crystal” in her ear—mirrors the narrator’s broader existential disorientation. Just as she questions whether her four-year journey yielded real growth (“Was I really any different?”), the vertigo physically manifests her instability. The condition’s name (shared with Hitchcock’s film about obsession and illusion) and its cure (the Epley maneuver’s deliberate movements) symbolically parallel her need to methodically reorient herself emotionally, particularly regarding her unresolved connection with Davey (pages 315-316).

    3. What does the exchange with Davey reveal about the narrator’s emotional state and unresolved past?

    Answer:
    Their text conversation oscillates between casualness and tension, exposing the narrator’s lingering attachment. Her impulsive message about the tiles (a shared memory) and subsequent regret show unresolved feelings, while Davey’s nonchalant “Hahaha” and invitation to his event underscore their emotional mismatch. Her deleted draft (“You might recognize some parts”) hints at autobiographical elements in her book, suggesting she still processes their relationship through her art. The interaction leaves her unsettled, mirroring her physical vertigo (pages 314-315).

    4. How does the chapter use humor to undercut the narrator’s anxiety? Provide examples.

    Answer:
    The narrator’s dark humor surfaces in moments of distress, revealing her coping mechanisms. For instance, her frantic joke to the cab driver about a “buoyant forcefield” around Manhattan—which she recognizes as “insane”—contrasts with his practical response (offering gum). Later, her melodramatic internal monologue (“mythological riddle”) about being unable to sleep amplifies her panic, yet the absurdity of comparing vertigo to a labyrinthine trial adds levity. Even the Epley maneuver’s resemblance to an avant-garde dance (Trio A) injects whimsy into her medical crisis (pages 314-316).

    5. Evaluate Jordi’s role as a stabilizing force in the narrator’s crisis. What might this suggest about their relationship?

    Answer:
    Jordi’s calm, solution-oriented support (“Put me on speakerphone… Get some air”) contrasts with the narrator’s spiral, marking her as an emotional anchor. Her immediate research into vertigo and guided instructions (the Epley maneuver) demonstrate reliability, while the narrator’s gratitude (“Dear God, thank you for this woman”) implies deep trust. Their dynamic—avoiding melodrama (“a little new for this degree of shit-losing”)—suggests a healthy partnership where vulnerability is tempered by mutual care, foreshadowing growth beyond the narrator’s past relational patterns (page 316).

    Note