Two Titles, Two Opinions

Great day at work - out early and no afternoon thunderstorms meant that I could put on those rocker sneakers and take my late afternoon trek around the hood. The only trouble is that I'm listening to a book I had been SO looking forward to and it's been a big disappointment.

 I suspect that the publisher was hoping that Sarah Blake's The Postmistress would be the next Guernsey Literary.....but no such luck. Believe me, I would give it the benefit of the doubt since the WW II era is the time that I'm drawn to, much to Aunt Jackie's dismay. The music, style, history, etc. for some reason have me often feeling that I was born in the wrong time and place.

I'm halfway through and may give it up unless Susan tells me to stick with it (I saw her reading it at work). It's not that I don't like Frankie, the plucky young New Yorker who works for CBS in London, reporting for the radio audience back in the states. She's bright and inquisitive and is an activist for truth, pushed by her former roommate to probe into round ups of German Jews into ghettos. There's at least something to grab onto, but the rest of the story just leaves me flat.

Kudos though to Ms. Blake for a sensitively written sensual love scene - we know these aren't easy and are often ridiculed - in which the title character makes love for the first time. She captured beautifully the initial hesitance, the excitement, the determination and the desire to join with a man in equal communion rather than the old-fashioned "surrender" that's expected of a virgin of a certain age.

Front page of the local newspaper today happened to have an article about cyber-stalking, harrassment by text message. Who'd have thought we'd come to this? Which brings me to a novel that blew me out of the water and which I devoured in 3 days. Admittedly, I've loved Anna Quinden since way back when she used to write her poignant, funny column for the New York Times, when her family was young, and so was I. OK, I'm dating myself.

Then she began writing novels and book groups couldn't get enough of Black and Blue or the devastating  One True Thing which, though it came out ten years after my own mom's death from cancer, set me right back there in the hospital room. Rise and Shine felt too light for Quindlen but now she's back with a vengeance. Every Last One is an unforgettable book about the randomness of life, the time wasted worrying about the little things, the depth of grief and the long, slow process of recovery that cannot be rushed by well-meaning friends.

One wonders how a woman like Anna Quindlen, with the glorious life one surmises she lives, can delve down into the darkest depths of her imagination to write a book of such anguish and loss. This must be a testament to her talent. Ms. Quindlen describes a home which, on the surface, sounds like the one we'd all want to live in; two adults with not too many issues, Glen a doctor, she a landscape architect, and three lovely kids who prefer to bring their friends home than to hang out on the streets. Still, one doesn't have to read too far into the book to discover the cracks in this foundation.

Teenage daughter Ruby suffers from an eating disorder, Max has anti-social anxieties, while his brother Ben is almost too perfect, playing three-letter sports. Then there's Kiernan, Ruby's oldest friend, now lover, who cannot get enough of the Latham family.
Glen and Marybeth have a comfortable, long-term marriage with the requisite, subtle fissures that one assumes will be temporary and dissipate when the kids are grown and gone on their assuredly successful future paths. But for every scene of domestic tranquility that Quindlen dangles in front of her readers, she throws in just enough hints to keep us on edge, waiting for the other shoe to fall.

 And when it does it seems to come out of the blue. The stunning violence just doesn't mesh with this lovely family that seems to be doing every thing "right." This is a must read for anyone who revels in examining the extreme complexity of relationships, be they familial or sexual. For readers who have raised their families safely to adulthood and can now rest on your laurels, this novel may remind you of how very lucky you are.