Marriage and Other Monuments

By Virginia Pye
Koehler Books, 2026, 314 pages
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Sometimes, individuals and communities seek change. Other times, change is forced upon them, gradually or in what can seem like a sudden turn of events. Either way, the people affected must make choices about next steps, and about what their futures might look like–choices that can have lasting consequences. This smart, sweeping, and emotionally resonant novel explores how and why such choices are made within two fraught marriages, at a time when forces of transformation are at play in the larger community. 

The novel unfolds in the summer of 2020: the height of the Covid epidemic and of tensions in the lives of two estranged sisters, Melissa and Cynthia, whose marriages are threatening to come apart. It’s also a time of turmoil in the city the sisters call home: Richmond, Virginia. There, in the wake of the murder of George Floyd, protesters–including Melissa–are rallying against racial injustice and pushing for the removal of Confederate monuments that stand for that injustice.

Although Melissa’s husband, Marshall, is Black, he is far from enthusiastic about her participation in the protests, which sometimes involve potentially dangerous confrontations with the police, and at one point land her in jail. (Melissa is White.) At one point, we get this perspective from Marshall:

But this isn’t the only issue Marshall has with Melissa. At various times, she’s been unfaithful to him, and he’s also felt a growing distance between them. At this point in their marriage, it seems that the only thing that still connects them is their mutual dedication to, and love for, their son. When Marshall insists that he and Melissa take a break from each other, including living apart, this seems to come as a surprise to her, and she reacts to his proposal with anger and frustration. Eventually, though, she goes along with it, albeit reluctantly.

Cynthia’s marriage hits the rocks when she learns that her husband, Bobby, has landed them in dire financial straits. Although Bobby works for his father, Preston Powers, a wealthy and influential businessman, Preston has stopped his salary, meaning that Bobby must rely only on commission from selling condos in a building Preston owns, an endeavor that has not proved fruitful. Cynthia is angry with Bobby for not revealing the financial troubles sooner and frustrated that she must give up the luxurious lifestyle that she’d become accustomed to and had expected to continue.

Perhaps worse, Cynthia seems to have lost respect for Bobby, who in her view lacks the confidence and drive necessary to push back against his demeaning and manipulative father and to succeed in his own right. Cynthia ends up moving out of the house she shares with Bobby and into a rental property owned by her brother-in-law, Marshall, who also owns the adjoining unit, now occupied by Melissa. At least at first, the new living arrangement is far from a bonding opportunity for Cynthia and Melissa, whose relationship soured years before. 

With the four central characters’ lives in turmoil, they must all search for the best way forward for themselves. One of the many pleasures of the novel is Pye’s portrayal of their individual journeys, which though difficult and at times uncertain, hold out the promise of more satisfying lives. 

For Marshall, there’s the possibility of new love, after he reconnects with an old acquaintance, Tyisha Mayfield, whose family used to live near his before moving out of town years before. Now, Tyisha is back in Richmond, and the attraction between her and Marshall is instantly palpable. In time, she also comes to admire Marshall’s passion for restoring a theater he’s purchased in Jackson Ward, a historically Black district of Richmond. And she helps him see ways in which the theater might be transformed into a greater force of good in the community. As for Melissa, she must find her footing without Marshall while seeking ways to keep activism at the center of her life.

For Cynthia’s part, she seeks to reestablish her personal and financial independence, hoping to return to her former career as an accountant, after having made a reputation-threatening mistake at a previous job in the field. In the process, she agrees–reluctantly–to look at the books of her father-in-law’s business, which have been something of a black box due to what seems to be design on Preston’s part. This introduces a suspenseful sleuthing element to the novel, with Cynthia making discoveries that have wide and potentially serious repercussions, including for her and Bobby.

Bobby’s journey forward is especially captivating, partly because of its connection to the James River, which flows through the novel (and through Richmond) like lifeblood, offering moments of reflection and restoration for Bobby and other characters and connecting the past to the present. The writing surrounding the river is unfailingly lovely. Here’s just a sampling of it:

Bobby, who “could feel the wildness of the James in his bones,” has a special love for the river, having spent several summers of his youth there, working for the owner of a canoe-rental shack. When he learns of an opportunity connected to the shack, one that could help him live a far more satisfying life–a life having nothing to do with his father or his family’s burdensome legacy–this underscores a thread that runs through the novel: that upheavals in our lives can sometimes lead us to imagine or take hold of new possibilities, and to follow new paths that feel truer to ourselves and what we really value.

Another thread running through the novel is its clear-eyed, unflinching look at the legacy of racism in Richmond, the effects of which are especially apparent in Marshall’s story. Although he owns and manages property in the city, including the theater he’s restoring in Jackson Ward, we see through his family history the long reach of racial injustice, especially as it relates to the ability of Black citizens in Richmond (and throughout the country) to attain and hold onto property and, as a result, build wealth across generations. As the novel unfolds, we learn how Marshall’s great-great-grandfather, Simon Stone, a staunch opponent of racism in Richmond and for a time a city assemblyman, was pushed from power after White supremacists reasserted control post-Reconstruction. Once the owner of a mansion in the city, Simon eventually lost it after being “ostracized by patrician elites” and forced to fight charges of embezzlement.

Later, Marshall’s grandfather faced a run of setbacks with property ownership. First, he was redlined out of a neighborhood he’d wanted to buy a home in. Then, a home he’d purchased in Jackson Ward was bulldozed to make way for a highway that was built through the neighborhood. The money he was given as compensation for this loss was only enough to buy half of a twin home, which his son–Marshall’s father–sold out from under him in a drug scheme. 

Pye’s writing about these struggles gives us powerful insights into how this history of discrimination has affected generations of Marshall’s family, and Marshall himself. This history ends up being connected to that of Bobby’s racially oppressive ancestors, setting up an opportunity for a meaningful reckoning in the present, one that could make a real difference for Marshall.

The ways in which Marriage and Other Monuments deftly weaves together the stories and struggles of Marshall, Melissa, Cynthia, and Bobby, while grounding the narrative so deeply in a particular place–a city with a rich, if fraught, history–make this novel a true achievement. It’s a pleasure to recommend it.