Great writing, but I was not as engaged as I was with Hamnet. I hate comparing the two books, but I kind of HAD TO. The marketing of the book was capitalizing on the success of Hamnet. Look at the covers:
Not really relevant but bothers me that the covers are so similar.
The writing is good, of course, but I was not as drawn into the characters and the story as I was with Hamnet. Maggie is still a favorite author - don't get me wrong!
And the theme is borrowed from Dostoyevsky's "Brothers Karamazov, another Succession-like tale.
This was a very intersting book, but a bit long, I thought.
From the Guardian review:
"...a writer cutting through the darker depths of what it means to be treated as an outsider in America. At the novel’s halfway point we are confronted with the words “THREE MONTHS LATER”. The central events on which the plot turns have taken place off stage, in an unlit space. Chang is more interested in consequences, and she has great fun unpicking the slightly breathless trial that occupies the final third of the book."
Here's a book I should read again, for sure.
I thought at first that the "killer" was obvious, but in the end, I was wrong! I will just say that because I was so certain. And if I had been correct, I would not have liked the book as much as I did.
Most interesting was the character of Molly. A bit on the spectrum, I would say and so interesting and likeable. Not always accessible to those around her.
It's a quick and fun read and I recommend it highly if that is what you are looking for.
It is in essence, a book about domestic violence, but much more than that. Much of it is hard to read - especially the second half of the book - but it is very much worth it.
I loved her writing and her ability to express conflicting feelings so well.
From Kirkus:
The characters are unflinchingly honest as they explore their emotions in a manner that is both refreshing and haunting. The novel is similarly unapologetic as it tackles difficult questions about abusive relationships, toxic secrets, and romantic and familial betrayals. While certain subplots do little to advance the narrative, this difficult story is sufficiently high stakes and relentless that it remains gripping throughout.
A bold and remorseless debut about the agony and affection that are attendant to complicated families.
Lucy is a character that appears in so many of Strout's books, and as soon as I finished this book, I learned that the newest Strout book will be released momentarily! (Lucy by the Sea)
From Kirkus:
While "Anything Is Possible" (2017) told the stories of people among whom Lucy grew up in poverty in Amgash, Illinois, this new novel returns to the direct address of My Name Is Lucy Barton (2016). Lucy’s beloved second husband, David, has recently died, and “in my grief for him I have felt grief for William as well,” she tells us. Her stuttering, stop-and-start narrative drops this and other pronouncements and then moves on, circling back later to elucidate and elaborate. After the pain of their separation subsided, Lucy and William became friends, close enough so that when he begins having night terrors at age 69, he confides in Lucy rather than his much younger third wife. (Wife No. 2 was among the many infidelities that broke up his marriage to Lucy.) Perhaps it’s because the terrors are related to his mother, Catherine, who “seemed central to our marriage,” Lucy tells us. “We loved her. Oh, we loved her.” Well, sometimes; Lucy’s memories reveal a deep ambivalence. Catherine patronized her, referring frequently to the poverty of Lucy’s background and her unfamiliarity with the ways of more affluent people. So it’s a shock to Lucy as well as William when he learns that his mother was married before, abandoned a baby daughter to marry his father, and came from a family even poorer than Lucy’s. Their road trip to Maine prompts William’s habitual coping mechanism of simply checking out, being present but not really there, which is the real reason Lucy left him. Strout’s habitual themes of loneliness and the impossibility of ever truly knowing another person are ubiquitous in this deeply sad tale, which takes its title from Lucy’s head-shaking acknowledgment that her ex will never change, cannot change the remoteness at the core of his personality.
It is a surprising look at Jackie before she was that Jackie. And in best-selling author Louis Bayard’s witty and deeply empathetic telling, Jackie & Me is a page-turning story of friendship, love, sacrifice, and betrayal— and a fresh take on two iconic American figures.
I recommend it!
