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 details the nar­ra­tor’s metic­u­lous prepa­ra­tions for a cross-coun­try road trip from Cal­i­for­nia to New York, span­ning six days each way. They out­line a pre­cise route, includ­ing stops in Las Vegas, Zion Nation­al Park, and Sali­na, Utah, with plans to stay at the Car­lyle in New York. Prac­ti­cal con­cerns like cruise con­trol, Power­Bars for effi­cien­cy, and audio­books for enter­tain­ment are weighed against anx­i­eties about fatigue and safe­ty. The narrator’s to-do list grows with items like car inspec­tions and sun-pro­tec­tive cloth­ing, reflect­ing both excite­ment and under­ly­ing stress about the jour­ney.

    A deep­er emo­tion­al under­cur­rent emerges as the nar­ra­tor grap­ples with the prospect of being away from their child, Sam, and part­ner, Har­ris, for over two weeks. They ratio­nal­ize the sep­a­ra­tion by acknowl­edg­ing Sam’s “out-of-sight-out-of-mind” nature but con­fess a fear of mutu­al forgetfulness—a theme rein­forced by mem­o­ries of their mother’s cog­ni­tive decline. This vul­ner­a­bil­i­ty con­trasts with the prac­ti­cal logis­tics, reveal­ing a ten­sion between adven­ture and famil­ial attach­ment. The narrator’s insom­nia and reliance on Benadryl fur­ther under­score their emo­tion­al fragili­ty beneath the trip’s struc­tured sur­face.

    The night before depar­ture, a ten­der bath rit­u­al with Sam high­lights their bond. The child’s request for a dog upon the narrator’s return sparks a play­ful yet poignant exchange, reveal­ing Sam’s per­cep­tive­ness and the narrator’s reluc­tance to make promis­es. Their con­ver­sa­tion shifts to how the nar­ra­tor dif­fers from “oth­er moms,” with Sam teas­ing­ly cri­tiquing their reserved praise. This moment blends humor and warmth, show­cas­ing their unique dynam­ic while sub­tly address­ing broad­er themes of par­ent­ing and iden­ti­ty.

    The chap­ter clos­es with nego­ti­a­tions over trip souvenirs—Sam’s desire for toys clash­es with the narrator’s pref­er­ence for nat­ur­al memen­tos like rocks or seedpods—a metaphor for their con­trast­ing per­spec­tives. This mun­dane yet inti­mate dis­agree­ment encap­su­lates the chapter’s cen­tral con­flict: bal­anc­ing per­son­al free­dom with the respon­si­bil­i­ties and emo­tion­al com­plex­i­ties of par­ent­hood. The narrator’s jour­ney, both lit­er­al and emo­tion­al, is framed by love, fear, and the inevitabil­i­ty of change.

    FAQs

    • 1. What preparations does the narrator make for their cross-country road trip, and what do these reveal about their personality and concerns?

      Answer:
      The narrator meticulously plans a six-day driving route with eight-hour daily segments, stopping at specific locations like Las Vegas’s Bendita restaurant and Zion National Park. They prepare PowerBars for efficient breakfasts, compile audiobooks and playlists, and gather practical items like therapeutic back support and rosacea gel. The inclusion of extra Benadryl for sleep issues reveals underlying anxiety and insomnia struggles. This extensive preparation shows the narrator’s tendency toward thoroughness and control, yet also highlights their vulnerabilities—particularly the fear of emotional disconnection (evidenced by worries about forgetting loved ones) and physical exhaustion during the journey.

      2. How does the narrator’s relationship with Sam reflect both intimacy and underlying tensions?

      Answer:
      The narrator shares a tender ritual with Sam—weekly baths where they discuss “big thoughts” and express love—yet their interactions also reveal complexities. Sam’s request for a dog and the narrator’s noncommittal response (“Let’s take it as it comes”) hint at differing expectations. Sam critiques the narrator’s parenting style, comparing it to more effusive “other moms,” which the narrator attempts to mimic unsuccessfully. This dynamic showcases their deep bond but also the narrator’s self-doubt and Sam’s precociousness. The fear of mutual forgetfulness during the trip underscores the fragility the narrator perceives in their connection.

      3. Analyze the significance of the narrator’s fear of forgetting and being forgotten. How does this theme manifest in the chapter?

      Answer:
      The narrator’s existential anxiety about memory permeates the chapter. They worry that a 2.5-week separation from Sam might lead to mutual forgetfulness, comparing it to their mother’s cognitive decline (e.g., introducing herself on calls). This fear reflects deeper insecurities about love’s permanence and identity—whether as a parent or partner. The narrator’s meticulous trip planning becomes a countermeasure against disconnection, yet their reliance on Benadryl for sleep hints at unresolved trauma. The theme culminates in the bath scene, where Sam’s request for keepsakes from each state symbolizes a desire for tangible proof of remembrance, contrasting with the narrator’s abstract fears.

      4. How does the chapter use humor and irony to balance its emotional weight? Provide examples.

      Answer:
      Dark humor and irony soften the chapter’s heavier themes. The narrator jokes about cruise control feeling “as safe as a self-driving car,” undercutting their anxiety with hyperbole. Sam’s deadpan critique of parenting (“Kids aren’t good at [taking things as they come], Mom”) and eye-rolling at the narrator’s forced “COOOL!” add levity. Even the prep list’s absurd specifics (e.g., “sun-protective driving outfits”) contrast with existential fears. The irony of planning a trip to “see friends and galleries” while dreading emotional detachment highlights the narrator’s contradictions, making their vulnerabilities more relatable through wit.

    Quotes

    • 1. “The real fear was that we would forget each other. That was always my underlying fear: that someone I loved would look at me like a stranger.”

      This poignant reflection captures the narrator’s deep-seated anxiety about separation and memory loss, both in her relationship with her child and echoing her mother’s cognitive decline. It reveals the emotional core of her cross-country journey’s stakes.

      2. “Sam often explained things like this to me, as if they’d been a kid for longer than I’d been a mother.”

      This humorous yet insightful observation illustrates the unique dynamic between the narrator and her child, showcasing Sam’s precociousness while subtly commenting on the universal experience of parents learning from their children.

      3. “We ate apple slices dipped in honey, our wet crunching the only sound until one of us said something about water or time or our bodies—in this otherworldly place we had only big thoughts, like proper stoners.”

      This beautifully descriptive passage encapsulates the sacred intimacy of the bathing ritual between mother and child, transforming an ordinary moment into a meditative space where profound connections occur.

      4. “You show them something you made and they’re like, ‘COOOOOL, I LOVE IT!’… I know, you just say it more like you’re talking to an adult.”

      This exchange highlights the narrator’s distinctive parenting style and her child’s awareness of social norms, offering a thoughtful commentary on authenticity versus performative enthusiasm in parent-child relationships.

    Quotes

    1. “The real fear was that we would forget each other. That was always my underlying fear: that someone I loved would look at me like a stranger.”

    This poignant reflection captures the narrator’s deep-seated anxiety about separation and memory loss, both in her relationship with her child and echoing her mother’s cognitive decline. It reveals the emotional core of her cross-country journey’s stakes.

    2. “Sam often explained things like this to me, as if they’d been a kid for longer than I’d been a mother.”

    This humorous yet insightful observation illustrates the unique dynamic between the narrator and her child, showcasing Sam’s precociousness while subtly commenting on the universal experience of parents learning from their children.

    3. “We ate apple slices dipped in honey, our wet crunching the only sound until one of us said something about water or time or our bodies—in this otherworldly place we had only big thoughts, like proper stoners.”

    This beautifully descriptive passage encapsulates the sacred intimacy of the bathing ritual between mother and child, transforming an ordinary moment into a meditative space where profound connections occur.

    4. “You show them something you made and they’re like, ‘COOOOOL, I LOVE IT!’… I know, you just say it more like you’re talking to an adult.”

    This exchange highlights the narrator’s distinctive parenting style and her child’s awareness of social norms, offering a thoughtful commentary on authenticity versus performative enthusiasm in parent-child relationships.

    FAQs

    1. What preparations does the narrator make for their cross-country road trip, and what do these reveal about their personality and concerns?

    Answer:
    The narrator meticulously plans a six-day driving route with eight-hour daily segments, stopping at specific locations like Las Vegas’s Bendita restaurant and Zion National Park. They prepare PowerBars for efficient breakfasts, compile audiobooks and playlists, and gather practical items like therapeutic back support and rosacea gel. The inclusion of extra Benadryl for sleep issues reveals underlying anxiety and insomnia struggles. This extensive preparation shows the narrator’s tendency toward thoroughness and control, yet also highlights their vulnerabilities—particularly the fear of emotional disconnection (evidenced by worries about forgetting loved ones) and physical exhaustion during the journey.

    2. How does the narrator’s relationship with Sam reflect both intimacy and underlying tensions?

    Answer:
    The narrator shares a tender ritual with Sam—weekly baths where they discuss “big thoughts” and express love—yet their interactions also reveal complexities. Sam’s request for a dog and the narrator’s noncommittal response (“Let’s take it as it comes”) hint at differing expectations. Sam critiques the narrator’s parenting style, comparing it to more effusive “other moms,” which the narrator attempts to mimic unsuccessfully. This dynamic showcases their deep bond but also the narrator’s self-doubt and Sam’s precociousness. The fear of mutual forgetfulness during the trip underscores the fragility the narrator perceives in their connection.

    3. Analyze the significance of the narrator’s fear of forgetting and being forgotten. How does this theme manifest in the chapter?

    Answer:
    The narrator’s existential anxiety about memory permeates the chapter. They worry that a 2.5-week separation from Sam might lead to mutual forgetfulness, comparing it to their mother’s cognitive decline (e.g., introducing herself on calls). This fear reflects deeper insecurities about love’s permanence and identity—whether as a parent or partner. The narrator’s meticulous trip planning becomes a countermeasure against disconnection, yet their reliance on Benadryl for sleep hints at unresolved trauma. The theme culminates in the bath scene, where Sam’s request for keepsakes from each state symbolizes a desire for tangible proof of remembrance, contrasting with the narrator’s abstract fears.

    4. How does the chapter use humor and irony to balance its emotional weight? Provide examples.

    Answer:
    Dark humor and irony soften the chapter’s heavier themes. The narrator jokes about cruise control feeling “as safe as a self-driving car,” undercutting their anxiety with hyperbole. Sam’s deadpan critique of parenting (“Kids aren’t good at [taking things as they come], Mom”) and eye-rolling at the narrator’s forced “COOOL!” add levity. Even the prep list’s absurd specifics (e.g., “sun-protective driving outfits”) contrast with existential fears. The irony of planning a trip to “see friends and galleries” while dreading emotional detachment highlights the narrator’s contradictions, making their vulnerabilities more relatable through wit.

    Note