Showing posts with label mother/daughter relationships. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mother/daughter relationships. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 6

Carol Goodman: Arcadia Falls

A young widow battling to make ends meet accepts a dream job at an exclusive arts school, a place where not only can she pursue her doctoral thesis (which addresses the life and work of the school’s co-founders) but ensure the quality of her daughter’s education.
No sooner does she arrive when a tragic accident claims the life of one of the school’s most promising students. Reminded of her own recent loss and troubled by her daughter’s emotional distance, she throws herself into her research and soon discovers the private diary of one of the school’s founders. What she reads within its pages, together with what she picks up from the student body and the attitude of the local sheriff, leads her to suspect that the student’s death was no accident after all. But she has no real proof and the school is riddled with suspects, from the elderly head mistress right down to a competitive classmate of the dead girl.
The more she investigates the past, the more enlightened she becomes about the present, until finally, with the ‘suicide’ of a colleague, everything falls into place. However, her knowledge has put her, and by proxy, her daughter, in grave danger.
It is only with the help of the sheriff that she eventually manages to save herself, her daughter and another student from murderous intent and achieve the life she had hoped to have when she first accepted the teaching position.
I feel this mystery novel, with decidedly gothic overtones, overreaches itself. The plot is unnecessarily convoluted and the characters’ motivation thin at best. I couldn’t relate to the heroine at all. She, like most of the other characters, simply didn’t have enough depth to create any real interest. And the romance subplot was completely unconvincing.
However, to damn with faint praise, the story wasn’t really that bad. Though I feel it was poorly executed there was a lot of potential. With a less contorted plot, more developed characters and a greater sense of place this could have been an outstanding work rather than an average one.
Simply due to that potential I would consider another of Goodman’s works but I’ll not be rushing out for one.-Lynn

Tuesday, August 3

Lost and Found - Carolyne Parkhurst

Laura hoped that competing on "Lost & Found," a reality TV show that combines travel, team work and problem solving, would bring her closer to her daughter Cassie. Well aware that she let Cassie down at the time her daughter needed her the most, Laura can see that her very eagerness to be close and to please is counter-productive, but can't seem to stop. And when things are going well with Cassie, she always tries to take advantage of the bond, ruining the moment in the process.
Cassie has secrets her mother knows nothing about - including the fact that the show's producers not only know all about it but that the rift, and its cause, is the reason they're on "Lost & Found" to start with. They're one of half a dozen other couples who have pre-existing relationships - brothers Carl and Jeff, geeks Riley and Trent, formerly gay born again Christian husband and wife Abby and Justin, where-are-they-now childhood TV stars Dallas and Juliet, long-ago high school sweethearts Jason and Betsy - competing for a million dollars. But all the competitors will find, and lose, things they never expected.
This is the first book I've read twice since beginning this blog and, not yet having re-read my initial review, I'm interested to see how my reading has changed in the last year. Although I remembered a lot of the basic plot, including the event that drew attention to, rather than caused, the rift between Cassie and Laura, many of the plot details had faded a little.
Something more of a reality TV watcher than I care to admit in real life, I strongly engaged with the premise, and anticipate my viewing of the latest season of "The Amazing Race" to be a little enhanced by my increased awareness of the production side of reality television, including the use of carnets to facilitate passing through customs. I remember wanting to watch the show on my first reading, and that certainly hasn't changed - I'd love to see "Lost & Found" broadcast!
The characters are beautifully and sparsely drawn - they all have clear motivations and are easily destinguishable, not always the case in a relatively slender, well-populated novel. Although the action is important, relationships are at the heart of this novel, and I really enjoyed the layered, resonant portrayal of these, particularly the mother-daughter relationship.
From Laura's perspective, everything changed when she was woken by Cassie in the middle of the night to find herself a grandmother. Berating herself for not noticing Cassie's pregnancy or her withdrawal, Laura bitterly regrets her first, angry response to the news, and her guilt is still twined with anger. But for Cassie the baby is just part of a growing estrangement - from her oblivious mother, more focused on a post-weight-loss relationship than on her daughter, and from her best friend and now not-so-secret crush.
The mother-daughter dynamic is captured for me here:
I wanted to say something... "I'm having a little trouble with this," I said.
Cassie yawned. "I'm sure you are," she said.
"You could have told me," I said, trying hard not to sound critical.
Cassie looked down... when she spoke, her voice was careful and even.
"You could have noticed," she said.
There are a number of sub-plots running alongside the main relationship development. I was particularly interested in the 'formerly gay' couple, and in the whole behind the scenes production aspect, from host Barbara's deliberate on-air persona construction and need for "Lost & Found" to succeed and rescue her career, to the agendas of the support crew. but there are no wrong notes - from dialogue to character, narrative arc to premise, the whole novel was a delight the second time around. - Alex

For my initial review of Lost & Found click here; for Lynn's review click here.

Sunday, May 16

The Master Quilter - Jennifer Chiaverini

When Sylvia Compton wed Andrew in a quiet service on New Year's Eve, without the fanfare they'd planned, the Elm Creek Quilters feel cheated of their opportunity to show their founder how much she meant to them. That is until they have the brilliant idea of making her a wedding quilt, with pieces from quilting friends and students past and present. The Quilters secretly send out letters to everyone on their mailing list and Sylvia's address book, inviting them to contribute a block in green, rose, cream, gold and/or blue cotton, in a pattern that reflects "how Sylvia had influenced you as an artist, teacher, or friend." Their plan is that the incoming blocks, which they hope with approximate a hundred and forty, into a queen-sized memory and tribute.
The Quilters expect that life will get in the way of creation for at least some of their potential contributors. They don't expect the same to be true for themselves. But as each member of the group tries to work on her own block - selecting the most appropriate pattern, seekinga out the perfect fabric - her life intrudes. As relationships shift, financial pressures mount, and the tensions between the want and expectations of loved ones war with the artists' own needs, creating their pieces becomes harder work than any of them anticipated.
Chiaverini's characteristic elements are present - her women are strong, intelligent, focused but flawed, coloured by their experiences and with lives sometimes unexamined. She interweaves social commentary with the plot, creating an unobtrusive but strong message. For example, she presents the male domination of academia, as Gwen is passed by for department chair in favour of a woman whose work concentrates on topics more 'hard and substantial' than quilting, while countering the claim with evidence that quilts are both art and relevant to social historians.
And when Summer, who has accepted her mother's attitude about relationships and self-worth without examination, she hides the changing status of her latest relationship, Chiaverini beautifully depicts the tension between private thought and public display.
I'm pacing myself a little better with this series than with my devouring of Ms Shinn's work, but it's a struggle. And now I know an author I can turn to when I need writing that soothes, satisfies, challenges and engages. - Alex

The Elm Creek Quilt series:
1. The Quilter's Apprentice
2. Round Robin
3. The Cross-Country Quilters
4.
The Runaway Quilt
5. The Quilter's Legacy
6.
The Master Quilter
7. The Sugar Camp Quilt
8. The Christmas Quilt
9. Circle of Quilters
10. The Quilter's Homecoming
11. The New Year's Quilt
12. The Winding Ways Quilt
13. The Quilter's Kitchen

14. The Lost Quilter
15. A Quilter's Holiday
16. The Aloha Quilt

Saturday, March 20

Along for the Ride – Sarah Dressen

Auden has always known what her parents expect from her – older brother Hollis is wild and untamed, but Auden is reliable and well behaved, academically minded and somber, making no demands on her remarried father and presenting no competition for her flirtatious mother who holds soirees with her (male) undergraduates. When a confluence of events causes Auden to act spontaneously, she finds herself staying with her father, annoyingly buoyant stepmother Heidi, and baby half-sister Thisbe for the summer. In the process she learns more than she thought possible, about her parents, her brother and herself, and about an enigmatic and attractive local boy.
There’s something enchanting about Dressen’s writing – she beautifully captures the voice of adolescent girls and combines this with a relatable but fresh plot that incorporates coming of age with transformation through self-realisation. Auden manages, in the space of a few months, something that many of us never manage – being able to see her parents as individuals, separate from their parental roles, flawed and human, and in the process detach from a lifetime of feeling responsible for them.
I think I could find it easy to glut on Dressen’s work, and am therefore resisting the urge to immediately go out and borrow more novels until I need a lift from a morass of less engaging and uplifting work - Alex

Tuesday, March 16

Round Robin - Jennifer Chiaverini

Elm Creek Manor has become known as a great retreat for quilters new and experienced - women come from all around the US to spend a week focusing on technique, reinvigorating their creativity, and making friends with like minded new friends. And the enterprise has spelled success for the Elm Creek Quilters, who pitch in as teachers for various sessions.
the women decide to make a Round Robin quilt - each woman contributes to the boarder of a central piece. And as each member of the group works on her piece her life significantly changes. From infidelity to a change in relationship with a son, from illness to conflict between mothers and daughters, the quilt reflects the women's lives.
The Quilter's Apprentice, the first book in this series, had its share of conflict, but most of that centred around Sylvia Compton, who fell out first with her town and then with her sister and sister-in-law, in the years of the Second World War. In Round Robin the other women's rocky relationships are exposed, revealing long hidden truths, assumptions and hurts.
Chiaverini portrays these layered emotions and events beautifully, no better than in the relationship between Sarah and her mother - the past is very present, not only for Sarah who, like many adult children, is holding on to slights from her adolescence and childhood, but also for Carol. We see how, in her determination not to be her mother, Carol becomes a different kind of unsatisfactory mother and how, in her eagerness to spare her child the pain she endured, she has driven her daughter away by imposing over her son-in-law a picture of her husband.
This is a very fine, readable, accessible but complex novel that manages to satisfy and warm. Not everything is resolved, not everything ends harmoniously, but I came away from Round Robin not only at peace but also filled with resolution to approach my own familial relationships with more honesty. - Alex

The Elm Creek Quilt series:
1. The Quilter's Apprentice
2. Round Robin
3. The Cross-Country Quilters
4.
The Runaway Quilt
5. The Quilter's Legacy
6.
The Master Quilter
7. The Sugar Camp Quilt
8. The Christmas Quilt
9. Circle of Quilters
10. The Quilter's Homecoming
11. The New Year's Quilt
12. The Winding Ways Quilt
13. The Quilter's Kitchen

14. The Lost Quilter
15. A Quilter's Holiday
16. The Aloha Quilt

Monday, January 4

Cycler - Lauren McLaughlin

Jill McTeague is a run-of-the-mill American teen – she’s neither an outcast nor most popular, enjoys school for the most part, and really wants her secret crush to ask her to prom. But four days a month Jill isn’t quite so run-of-the-mill – though her teachers and friends think she has a medical problem that requires monthly transfusions, ever since she was fourteen Jill has spent four days a month as a boy, complete with genitals and attitude.
After seeking medical advice, to no avail, Jill’s mother decided to lock Jack away from the world, protecting Jill from the publicity and scrutiny the alternative would cause. But Jack’s becoming less happy about a life that consists of one small house and not so much as an internet connection to let him interact with the world, and he’s emerging more often.
I was captivated by this premise when I first came across the book a couple of years ago, and when I found my library had no plans to purchase it bought a copy myself. Jack is by far the most dynamic character, though throughout the novel Jill becomes more aware of the confines her very controlled mother has placed on her, and on the passive role her father plays in their life.
The parent relationship is interesting, and somewhat under-explored, though this is understandable given the narration of the text by Jill and Jack. I was also a little disappointed that Cycler ends at the most narratively interesting point. There’s some interesting, but somewhat masked, aspects of gender and sexual identity brought up in the text, and the romantic hero identifies as bisexual which is unusual in the genre and worthy of note, particularly the response of his classmates. All in all, though, I was a little disappointed in Cycler, which I think could have spent a little less time on the more vapid aspects of Jill’s personality (like the intricately planned and doomed Operation Swoon, designed to entice her target into inviting Jill to prom) and more time on these interesting aspects. – Alex

Sunday, January 3

Home Safe - Elizabeth Berg

Helen Ames is still devastated by the sudden death of her husband over breakfast one morning - it may have been eleven months ago but the shock is as new as it was when she turned around to see him slumped on the floor. Dan took care of the details of their life together, leaving Helen to write the novels that contribute the bulk of their income. Since his death she just can't write, and though her publisher seems calm, she knows that's because they don't understand that Helen will never be able to write again - all the things that used to inspire and calm her now serve only to remind her of what's missing. And nothing works the way it used to, most of all her head, but also her relationship with her single daughter, Tess - whatever Helen tries to do seems to annoy Tess, and the harder she tries the angrier Tess gets, even though Helen's just trying to help.
When her accountant rings to say that Dan withdrew $750,000 almost a year ago, Helen's stunned. She can't imagine what he would have spent the money on, and over and over again in her mind she looks at the mild, loyal husband she thought she knew .
It was when I wrote up my end of year summary that I realised I hadn't read a single Berg novel in twelve months, and I'm so glad I returned. Her books may deal with serious, significant themes and devastating events but they're also uplifting, comforting and deeply satisfying. There were a couple of elements in Home Safe that particularly resonated with me - the first was the exploration of mother-daughter relationships, both Helen and Tess's but also the briefer but vibrant exploration of Helen's relationship with her mother, Eleanor. Reading these passages made me resolve to be more compassionate and giving in my own mother/daughter relationship, though that's sometimes easier in the abstract than in reality.
I also really liked the moment when the deeply feeling, sensitive Helen is confronted by her tolerant best friend Midge, who Helen thinks doesn't understand the depths of her despair and grief:
"Let me tell you something, Miss I-Feel-the-Pea. I feel the pea, too! All of us feel the pea! The difference is what each of us chooses to do about it!". ... Helen has always thought of herself as being different, as feeling more than others.
Sometimes she views it as a gift, more often as a curse. But it had not fully occurred to her, until now, that if someone doesn't react as she does, it doesn't mean they feel any differently...
"You know the story of the person who's thirsty?" Midge says. "Well, the person is complaining and complaining and complaining that she's so thirsty. 'Oh, my God, I'm thirsty, I am so thirsty. She's given a drink of water. And you know what happens then? She says, 'Oh, my God, I was thirsty, I was so thirsty!'"

And this is what I love about Berg's writing - it reflects truths about ourselves and others. Oh, and it's uplifting, comforting and deeply satisfying! - Alex

Wednesday, November 18

How It's Done - Christine Kole MacLean

Grace feels stifled by the expectations of her religious father - he's so sure about who she is and what she should do that Grace doesn't feel as though she can object. But when he considers her good behaviour of over two months is insufficient to outweigh breaking her curfew by five minute, causing her father to forbid her to go the the senior concert, Grace is primed for rebellion. Liv, her best friend, convinces Grace to go with her to a college literature class for extra credit Liv badly needs if she's ever going to escape her alcoholic parents. Slipping out part way through for a toilet break, Grace meets Michael - witty, urbane and over a decade older, Michael's a lecturer at the university.
When they meet again, by chance, at a coffee shop a brief attraction becomes something different, and Grace loses herself in a relationship with a man who challenges her, attracts her, makes her feel things she never dreamt of, and who offers her a way out. The question she doesn't ask is - into what?
MacLean sustains a strong degree of tension throughout How It's Done - Grace is not only torn between the traditions she was raised to respect and new mores Michael confronts her with, but also a growing awareness of her parents' marriage as a distinct entity, and the demands of a friend who expects favours Grace is uncomfortable asking for.
I found elements of How It's Done reminded me of Twilight, primarily the concept of a love-starved, insecure adolescent girl who, despite the protests of her family, is bewitched by an attractive, attentive older man with a dark side. MacLean manages to illustrate some of the concerns I had with that series here. Michael is not a blatantly bad person - he doesn't beat Grace or abuse her, but his motives are complex and he's not entirely honest.
However, my recollections of my reading experience are strongly overshadowed by a list of twenty discussion questions at the end of the novel. While I can see the need for analysis when a book is read for English literature class, or for a book group that's unable to come up with their own questions, or a texturally deep novel that has sold widely and that demands deeper analysis, in this case it came off to me as presumptuous and annoying. The questions weren't particularly insightful ("How are Grace's father and Michael the same or different?"), and I didn't think there was enough going on below the surface to warrant the inclusion of the questions. I am not, I acknowledge, the likely target audience of this YA novel, but it still rankled. If you decide to read it, consider stopping at the novel's end. - Alex

Tuesday, November 10

The Good Daughter - Amra Pajalic

Sammie was happy with her life in Thornbury - her mum was cooler than most of the other mothers, she had a best friend and could slide along at school without any worries. But when her grandmother died and her Dodi came from Bosnia to live in Melbourne everything changed. She went back to being Sabiha, they moved to St Albans to be closer to family and the Bosnian community, and all of a sudden she had to start acting in accordance with community standards.
Irritated by her mother's attempts at finding a suitable boyfriend, frustrated by the close supervision of a neighbourhood where everyone knows your business and reports to your family, and disappointed at the disintegration of her friendship with Kathleen, Sabiha's fifteenth year is not a happy one, and it's all the fault of her stupid grandfather.
Pajalic fits a lot into this YA novel about identity and discovery. All the secondary characters have secrets and back stories that Sabiha is unaware of when the novel opens, predominantly dealing with betrayal and forbidden loves of all kinds.
The reflection of how the dissolution of communism in Yugoslavia changed the cultural norms and identity of Bosnians is interesting, and I liked the way this tension was differently portrayed across the generations.
For the most part Pajalic does a credible job of working this and other background unobtrusively into the text, and Sabiha's own lack of familiarity with her faith allows a degree of explanation that isn't slab-like exposition. That said, I did find the first section, where Sabiha explains why, though they're Muslim, Bosnian women don't wear hijabs and the men are neither turbaned nor bearded, a little forced.
From time to time there are nice turns of phrase, like "Now I had all this Bosnian baggage to drag around and I didn't know how to carry it." I also really liked a discussion between Dido and Sabiha's mother, Bahra, about conventional medicine versus faith healing:
"Have you been taking your tablets?" Dido asked.
"I don't need them any more." She smoothed her skirt.
"Why?"
"All I need is to pray."
"If you don't take your tablets you'll get sick," Dido said gently.

Mum shook her head vehemently. "I pray to Allah and I won't get sick."
"And Allah hears your prayers, but he created medicine so it helps you."
Much of Sabiha's angst is due to her forays into the world of dating, as she finds herself attracted to several boys but indecisive and unsure. Her attitude to male/female relationships is coloured by her mother's experiences as both an abandoned wife and as a sinner (at least in the eye of the community, for she dated several Bosnian men and lived with an Australian), and also by being molested a few years earlier by one of Bahra's male friends. The effects of this traumatic experience, as well as the distress caused by Bahra's illness when she was younger (and Sabiha's subsequent surveillance care taking) are well done.
Despite my concerns that this might be jumping on the band wagon of recent young-Muslim-women-growing-up-in-the-West novels, The Good Daughter is readable, the coming-of-age plot is fresh, and the secondary plots are relatively substantive. There were a few loose ends (the severing of Bahra's relationship with her former closest friend is never well explained), but I'm not a fan of every little detail being accounted for, so that wasn't a problem.
Yet for some reason The Good Daughter felt flat to me. While not everything was wrapped up, there is a markedly last minute transformation, as in the space of a few pages Sabiha becomes sensitive to the needs and concerns of her mother, her grandfather, her friend Brian, her cousin Dina... that seemed a little abrupt. That doesn't account for my lack of enthusiasm throughout, though. After much thinking about why, I think it's because Sabiha is not particularly sympathetic. Though self-centredness is typical for teens, Sabiha almost never sees anything except in relation to its effects on her. She seems sulky, moody and inflexible, and as the novel is told in first person this is something of an achievement by the author. The Good Daughter is certainly accessible to a wider audience, and I'm interested to see what she writes next. - Alex

Monday, August 24

Whispers and Lies – Joy Fielding

Forty-year-old Terry Painter has hopes that the son of her favourite patient might be interested in her as more than just his mother's nurse. Otherwise her life is quiet and predictable, and that’s the way she likes it. Her colleagues at the hospital where she works are friendly but not friends, and since her mother died she's moved out of the flat out back and into the main house.
Her first experience with a boarder wasn't very successful, but Terry has high hopes for Alison Simms, a young girl who rapidly becomes the only real friend she's ever had. When she reflects on it, Terry realises that she knows very little about Alison, and she has suspicions about her the relationship she has with a man they claim is her brother. But not all is as it seems, and as events unfold Terry's quiet, tranquil life changes in ways she couldn't imagine.
Fielding writes domestic horror, and though it's been many years since I read her novels, they used to be something of a staple for me about a decade ago. I was prepared to accept the really strong foreshadowing and unlikeable protagonist as stylistic choices that, though they didn't appeal might suit the work. Certainly I liked the unfolding picture of Terry's distorted relationship with her now dead mother, and the way that affected her adult life was beautifully portrayed. However the power of the book rests with the surprise twist, and sadly I spotted it very early on, leaving the unappealing central character, heavy foreshadowing and rather pedestrian plot unredeemed. - Alex

Sunday, August 16

Breathing in Colour - Clare Jay

Alida Salter's life has been, to a great extent, on hold since the tragic death of her infant daughter Kizzy thirteen years ago. When she receives a call in the middle of the night notifying her that her other daughter, Mia, has not been seen for a week and is feared dead, Alida flies to India to search for her, despite the protests of her ex-husband Ian. As she tries to find the daughter she lost the day Kizzy died, Alida discovers herself.
I was initially tempted to put Breathing in Colour aside - part of Jay's Creative Writing PhD, it was irritatingly overwritten and heavy on the shadowing, with lines like "As usual Alida tried to shift her thoughts away from the event that had destroyed their happy balance"; "the telephone shrilled; a shocking sound in the silence which caused Alida to quickly swivel around in her chair to stare at it"; "her room was steeped in expectant silence"; and "in one smooth motion she gathered her limbs and leapt from the bed." I grant you, none of these in itself is particularly objectionable but, as is obvious from the last few posts, I'm not in a particularly indulgent place right now, and these grated. I also found the notification call, which is all Alida's responses, particularly annoying. However, mindful of the unprecedented number of books I've cast aside within a few pages of late, I decided to give Breathing in Colour more time to prove itself.
I'm so glad I did. Combining Alida's present time journey with chronological snatches of Mia's memories, Breathing in Colour portrays a story of deep betrayal, loss, grief, joy, art, discovery, forgiveness and colour. India is the ideal setting, as that richly tapestried land beautifully complements the explosive assault to the senses Mia intermittently experiences - she has synesthesia, a condition where senses are cross-experienced so that noises have colour, textures are flavoured, and colours are textured.
The new setting allows Alida to reexamine her past and her relationship with Mia. This is aided by the presence of Taos (rhymed with house), an Australian artist who encouraged Mia to express her lucid dreams as collages, which is turn provide Alida with clues about Mia's location. As Alida retraces Mia's footsteps, through a combination of knowing her daughter and these clues from Mia's abandoned room, Alida begins to express her own experiences through writing.
Taos is travelling his own journey of exploration, and together they examine the weight and impact of memory and loss, grief and rebirth, patterns and numbers, the nature of self and the way we choose to view what happens to us. Vital to the narrative is art and self expression, and the role of the artist is explored in a way I both connected with myself (not an artist), and that an artist friend found resonant.
I have long been fascinated by synesthesia, and this fictionalised account of the experience added a dimension to what would otherwise have still been an interesting, albeit less engaging, novel. Maybe I ought to revisit some of those works I recently thrust aside on only preliminary exploration. - Alex

Sunday, August 9

Lost and Found - Carolyn Parkhurst

Laura and her teen daughter Cassie are taking part in the global scavenger hunt that is reality TV's newest offering, "Lost and Found." As they travel the globe, solving clues and carrying unwieldy souvenirs (including a ski pole and a live parrot) while racing to win the grand prize, Laura has recently lost 100 pounds, and is coming to terms with how this has changed the way other people respond to her. More importantly, she hopes to reconnect with the daughter she's recently become estranged from.
Told from the perspectives of each of the contestants still playing when the novel opens, we learns about a variety of relationships - the middle-aged brothers, the former childhood sweet-hearts, the converted-to-straight Christian couple, the former child stars - and the secrets they're all keeping.
Lost and Found is one of those books I have no recollection of picking up, but there it was in my pile of library books. I picked it up with low expectations, and was captured from the opening line:
By the sixth leg of the game, we have accumulated the following objects: a ski pole, a bishop from a crystal chess set, a sheet of rice paper, a trilobite fossil, an aviator's helmet and a live parrot.
The plot alone was interesting - the event at the centre of Laura and Cassie's estrangement slowly emerges, from both perspectives, discover a secret Laura is unaware of, and see the other relationship change along the way too. While some of these are less surprising than others (the formerly gay couple are still attracted to their own gender), Parkhurst's characterisation and delivery makes their revelations suspenseful and interesting.
The reality TV context added a unique element that I, as a huge fan of The Amazing Race, welcomed. It not only framed the action, creating a situation where contestants couldn't leave or take things at their own pace, and creates external tension and urgency. Not only was there all the behind the scenes stuff the audiences misses (like how the producers avoid relationships developing between cast and crew, and tweaking to add suspense) but the show itself was something I'd love to watch. I particularly liked the deviousness of the clues - TAR is increasingly less clue-oriented and more directive: "go here and do this," and I miss the harder elements present in the earlier seasons. But I digress.
This is Parkhurst's second novel, after Dogs of Babel, which my library has on order, so I don't know if this is typical of her work or a stunning aberration. I will, however, keep a look out and keep you posted. - Alex

I've re-read Lost & Found since this review; for my other review click here. For Lynn's review click here.

Friday, July 24

Sweet Love - Sarah Strohmeyer

Julie Mueller connects cooking with her mother's subservient domestic role - Betty has always had a meat, two veg and salad on the table by six, with something sweet to follow. A single mother, reporter, and part of the 'sandwich generation,' Julie has no time for such nonsense, particularly when shes's angling for one of the competitive places on the electoral team, following one of the candidates for the months leading up to the next election.
Betty thought she was doing the right thing when she ended her daughter's crush on Michael, the boy next door; at twenty-one he was four years older, and his white trash parents were an ominous predictor of his future despite the nurturing Betty had done. Now, twenty years on, Betty's not so sure she was right after all. To make amends she gives Julie a dessert making course at Boston's famed Cooking School, and engineers Michael to join the class to. Can love rise like a twice-baked souffle?
I've had mixed success with Strohmeyer's novels - I somewhat enjoyed one, and loathed another, so I approached Sweet Love with a little trepidation. The blurb is a little misleading - though the romance with Michael is present, it plays a secondary role to Julies acclimation to middle age - her daughter will be leaving for college in a few years, who parents are getting older, and she';s reevaluating her career and her life in general.
The mother-daughter relationships in the novel, between Julie and Betty, and between Julie and her teenaged daughter Em play a far more significant role than the relationship between Julie and Michael. Through the course of Sweet Love we get to know more about the women, particularly how a family history of breast cancer has shaped their lives, and discover how Betty's relationship with her somewhat distant husband has coloured Julie's picture of marriage and support.
Julie is relatively complex, has ssituations where career advancement battle ethics, and Strohmeyer clearly articulates her frustration at being an aid to those around her rather than being perceived as an individual with needs of her own - this is strongest when Betty assumes Julie can spend an afternoon taking her for an eye exam, not knowing Julie and Michael have plans of their own.
Despite these multiple elements, Sweet Love felt flat and undefined - the characters aren't very well presented, so we never have a strong sense of why Julie was attracted to Michael apart from habit, who Michael was himself, how he changes and why he was attracted to Julie, why Betty drew so much comfort from her emotionally and often physically absent husband, the relationship between Julie and her father, the relationship between Julie and her ex-husband, the relationship between Em and her father...
In many ways Sweet Love reminded me on an autobiographical first novel - though the writing was fine it felt as though Strohmeyer was working through some issues of her own. I say this because the character development wasn't as strong as I expected, and it ended with something of an 'eh' for me. Perhaps I approached Sweet Love as the romance it's very clearly presented as - title, pink cover, romance-focused blurb - but, as I said earlier, isn't. The book brought up some nuggets that caused me to reflect on my own mother-daughter relationship, but I didn't go into it with that expectation and so was left feeling rather flat. i think this is a third strike for me. - Alex

Wednesday, April 29

The Mercy Rule - Perri Klass

Pediatrician Lucy Weiss works for the state, assessing parents whose children are in foster care. It's work that's close to her heart, because Lucy was brought up in the system herself after her mother died. Her own children are deeply loved and live an upper-middle class lifestyle of soccer lessons and beach side holidays.
Lucy reflects on her upbringing, from her barely remembered parents to the abuse of a foster-sibling, and her eventual adoption, and observes her own parenting. She worries about her children, prickly adolescent Isabel and first grader Freddy (who they're hoping is only very-eccentric-and-very-bright) and her marriage (to Greg, an academic), and she worries about her patients.
The Mercy Rule is a beautiful, sparse slice of life. I'm usually annoyed by novels that lack an arc, but though The Mercy Rule is essentially a sequence of linked vignettes I thoroughly enjoyed the reading experience. Freddy is captivating, and Lucy's encounter with a similarly precocious child on a plane trip was particularly well written. The home setting is contrasted with Lucy's professional experiences, particularly those dealing with the mothers she feels bonded to, women whose circumstances will never change despite the support and encouragement Lucy gives.
The narrative third person voice is authentic and crystalline, and the writing is lucid and subtle.I only wish I'd reviewed this a little closer to when I read it, so that my review could be more useful. - Alex

Friday, October 24

Range of Motion - Elizabeth Berg

Lainey simply can't believe that her husband could be taken from her by a freak accident. Yet there he is, in an impenetrable coma after being knocked out by a falling chunk of ice. Despite everyone's belief that she should accept he'll never recover, Lainey knows that if she can just make a connection, Jay will come back to her. Even after he's transferred to a nursing home, and despite the open scorn of many of the nursing staff, Lainey dresses Jay in familiar clothes, brings in his favourite foods, encourages her young daughters to visit, plays music, talks to him as though he never left his life, and performs the vital range of motion exercises that keep his limbs flexible for when he resumes his life. And through it all she rehearses how she'll tell the story of his recovery: "I turned an afternoon movie on his television. Black and white. Bette Davis. I started to tell his to pay attention, this was a good part, and he woke up. That's all. that's it. You just have to wait. You just have to believe."
But real life goes on despite her. Younger daughter Amy's started wetting the bed, older daughter Sarah's becoming combative and hostile, and Lainey's closest friend and neighbour, good hearted but plain Alice has issues of her own. And while they're something of a comfort, the visions Lainey has of the woman who used to live in their house are becoming clearer by the day, and when Evie starts talking to her Lainey feels alarmed as well as reassured.
The beauty of Berg's writing is its truth. When Lainey notes that her daughter "is turning into herself in these little ways. She is like stepping into a garden every day, when you know something is new, different from the day before" it so perfectly captures the infinitesimal but constant change of children that it rings. She observes the little moments and minute pleasures (accused of being "the kind of person who gets happy if the leftovers fit exactly into the Tupperware container," Lainey admits that she "get[s] a little charge when everything fits") as much as the devastation and ecstasy of the big things.
I was a little uncomfortable with Lainey's confidence in the face of Jay's diagnosis, and particularly wary of the novel giving false hope to the unfortunate families for whom an awakening will never come. I was also concerned about the other ending, of Lainey losing her hope and faith, of the extinguishing of her light. Though Range of Motion doesn't always go where I expected, and was a delight, I am still a little concerned about laypeople trusting more in hope than medical prognosis. On the other hand, I've seen enough doctors make enough unmet dire predictions to know that you never know, and that's part of what's at the heart of this very good novel. - Alex

Friday, September 26

By The Time You Read This - Lola Jaye

Twelve year old Lois Bates is miserable - her dad died of a mysterious (to her) illness when she was five and her mum's now remarrying a man she met at the bingo. She just knows if her dad was still around everything would be much better than it is. So she's excited, and a little nervous, when her father's' sister gives her a manual written just for her by her father. There are rules: the manual is private between the two of them, and she can only read a birthday entry on her birthday, but she can read the miscellaneous advice and Kevin facts any time she needs to. For the next eighteen years, until the ancient age of thirty, Lois will have her father to guide her through every stage, from starting high school and changing friendships to her first job and buying a car.
The author was inspired by news stories about dying parents leaving their children mementos, usually in the form of DVDs etc; she wondered what it would be like for someone living in the early 1980's, when that technology wasn't available, and the idea is certainly intriguing.
However, I found Lois' voice annoying (though this improved over the course of the novel), and her self-focus grating (which didn't change). Over the eighteen years we see Lois grow up: her mother has another child, who Lois deliberately stays distant from, at least until a near tragedy forces her to face her feelings about the moppet); she avoids her mother and new husband as much as possible, never revisiting her adolescent perceptions; she worships her dead father over the living people in her life; and she leaves relationships before the men in her life can leave her.
I should have related to this character, particularly as my grandmother died when my mother was the same age as Lois (and was never really mentioned again, like Lois's father). I get a little choked up whenever I think of my mother and her twin sister looking around the house for evidence that they hadn't made their mother up, but was wholly unmoved by Lois and her journey through life. Plus, I found the fact that her dad always had the right advice really annoying. Seriously - every time? That's pretty comprehensive for a guy who has only a few months to live. And yet there's barely a thing, especially in the beginning entries (where one would imagine it was the most important) on thinking about her mother's feelings, or it being okay for her to remarry. Later on there are a few mentions of it, but by that stage Lois's dislike of her new "dad" is deeply entrenched.
I certainly finished By The Time You Read This, but only because I bought it and am in Rome, with limited English-language reading material available (and my Italian is very much at the "Spot has a baby sister. Say hello, Spot" level).
So, rule five of buying books - don't buy on impulse or in panic at the airport. It's great that you can buy 3 books for the price of 2 (or buy one, get one half price) but if you don't like the book then it's a waste of time and money.
And rule six - don't let your choice of books in said situation be influenced by the opinion of your friend, particularly if she doesn't have the same taste as you and (though specifically asked which she thinks she'd like to read when you're finished with it) declines to take it when you've finished.
And most of all, remember rule two. - Alex

Tuesday, September 23

Birthright - Nora Roberts

Promising young archaeologist Callie Dunbrook is on what could be the dig of her career - a pre-Neanderthal site discovered during preparation for housing estate in Maryland. The dig is only slightly marred by the presence of her gorgeous ex-husband, anthropologist and site guardian Jacob Greystone. Well, that and the murder of the estate developer. And the revelation that Callie may not be the only child of dearly loved Bostonian parents but the kidnapped baby daughter of a devastated local family. The lawyer she hires also has a connection with the Cullen family, and unresolved issues of her own.
As a romance reader and an occasional lurker at Smart Bitches, I've heard a lot about the apparently incomparable Nora Roberts so, when I spied a book of hers on the recently returned trolley of my local library I decided to see what all the fuss was about. I like mysteries and archaeology, and those elements were quite good. There was certainly a fair sprinkling of both romance and lust, though the romantic hurdles were a little sketchy, and there was a lot of bickering between them.
I quite like Callie, but she often acted in an impulsive and unconsidered way (like chasing a potential murderer into a wood, in the middle of the night, alone and armed only with insect spray). I prefer consistently intelligent heroines, although I suppose we're all entitled to having blonde moments.
I liked the idea of revisiting the family of an abducted child some decades on, though I found Callie's (possible) biological mother's obsession over it, to the point of interrupting the relationship with the son who remained, a little distressing. The resolution of that mystery (if she is the missing child, are Callie's parents baby snatchers?) gave rise to its own implausible heroine-in-peril moments.
I found Lana (Callie's lawyer) a more mature and interesting character, and think the entire abduction plot - though adding a layer of complexity - detracted from what could have been a more interesting whole. I'll try another Roberts, but won't be rushing out to buy her entire oeuvre. - Alex

Saturday, May 17

Certain Girls - Jennifer Weiner

Joy Shapiro-Krushelevansky's about to turn 13, and that means a bat mitzvah. It also means changes in her relationship with her best friends (twins Todd and Tamsin), and a new tension with her mother. Everything about her mother is wrong - her huge bust, her over protectiveness, her weird family, the way she won't let Joy grow up and do things normal girls do... all Joy wants to be is normal.
Thirteen years ago Cannie Shapiro could never have seen that her life would be so perfect - she has an amazing husband, who loves her even though she's fat and he's a fat doctor ("bariatric physician!"), a fabulous home, a relatively good relationship with her out and proud mother and with her irresponsible baby sister, a career she enjoys (pseudonomously writing a FSF series), a negotiated peace with the father of her perfect daughter... all Cannie wants is for Joy to be safe and happy.
This sequel to Weiner's debut novel Good in Bed captures many of the elements that made the original a succes, without retracing old ground. The novel alternates between Cannie and Joy's perspectives, and Weiner has done a great job of capturing the angst of adolescence, the differences perspective makes (Cannie sees her younger sister as feckless and irresponsible, Joy sees her as fun and daring), and the tensions between mothers and daughters that don't go way just because the daughter's an adult too.
Strong, powerful, warm, complex and with a devastating ending, Certain Girls is a must-read for anyone who enjoyed Good in Bed but would also be rewarding for those new to Weiner's work. - Alex