“His routine is etched in stone.” He rises, runs, eats breakfast and answers a few calls. He repairs elderly folks’ PCs, sometimes by turning them off and turning them back on.Īt the opening, Tyler says, “You have to wonder what goes through the mind of a man like Micah Mortimer,” but she doesn’t wonder very hard. Tellingly, he calls himself the Tech Hermit. Gilded with a patina of quirkiness, Micah is a self-employed computer fix-it guy. The milquetoast protagonist is Micah Mortimer, “a tall, bony man in his early forties with not-so-good posture.” He lives in a basement apartment in Baltimore, which over the course of more than 20 novels has become Tyler’s Yoknapatawpha. Not much of a meal, perhaps, but who could handle more now? Slight and slightly charming, it’s like the cherry Jell-O that Mom serves when you’re feeling under the weather. Anne Tyler’s new novel, “Redhead by the Side of the Road,” is either wholly irrelevant or just what we need – or possibly both.
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