Awkward, At Its Best

It's when you put your coat on inside out on a first date. And run two stoplights. And babble on about "The Rules" while saying goodbye at your front door instead of letting him kiss you. It's when you give a giggly wave instead of a smoldering glance.

It's Gilbert dipping Anne-with-an- e's pigtails in ink. It's Darcy scorning an indignant Elizabeth. It's Inman garnering an introduction to Ada.

Despite the dark violence, Cold Mountain is a love story at its best. Perhaps because, in much of the novel, the two are apart. Inman is trying to make his way home from the war without permission. Ada is an educated woman who doesn't know the first thing about managing a farm. Moments other authors might romanticize, Frazier leaves as is. Goodbyes are honest instead of heartfelt. Letters are left crumpled on the floor, unsent. And a much anticipated reunion is clever in its clumsiness.

Oh, and the end might make you may cry even if it's the fourth time you've read it.

So trip rather than swoon. Tango across the room...badly. You'll have a funny, even romantic, story to tell your grandkids.