Suffering and surviving in a hot-chocolate cosmos: Delinsky (For My Daughters, p. 495, etc.) serves up another successful nontaxing romance to carry women from the stress of their workdays into the untroubled oblivion of sleep. Can a heroine who spends her weekends baking pies, stripping wallpaper from her bathrooms (that's plural), and grinding her own coffee beans for an abusive husband find happiness? At least happiness that any of the rest of us can stomach reading about? Yes, Delinsky manages to make even this woman sympathetic and understandable. But only after she's undergone a lot of terrible pain. Emily Arkin and her two best friends are ladies in their 40s whose daughters have just left for college. They meet weekly, to love and support one another, at a diner in the small Massachusetts college town where they live. Emily needs some support. A loving and nurturing mother who barely looks older than 16, she is tortured by a tragic past—her infant son, Daniel, was kidnapped and never found—and a fairly lousy present. Her husband, Doug, is never home; he says he's working. A sympathetic police chief (everyone loves Emily, and no one likes Doug) brings widowed detective Brian and his motherless baby daughter, Julia, to rent Emily's garage apartment. Together Emily and Brian fix up the apartment, have long talks (over all the correct homemade foods and romance beverages), and fall in love. Emily finds out that Doug has been living with another woman for eight years. And when Brian digs under a neighbor's willow tree, he finds the body of little Daniel. Emily is reforged in her trials by fire and rises up a more independent woman, supported by her friends, her children, and her macho lover. A mushy and comforting romance. Makes a girl want to move to a small town and bake cookies for the police department. ($225,000 ad/promo)
Pub Date: Feb. 1, 1995
ISBN: 0-06-017780-2
Page Count: 384
Publisher: HarperCollins
Review Posted Online: May 19, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Dec. 15, 1994
A strict report, worthy of sympathy.
A violent surfacing of adolescence (which has little in common with Tarkington's earlier, broadly comic, Seventeen) has a compulsive impact.
"Nobody big except me" is the dream world of Holden Caulfield and his first person story is down to the basic, drab English of the pre-collegiate. For Holden is now being bounced from fancy prep, and, after a vicious evening with hall- and roommates, heads for New York to try to keep his latest failure from his parents. He tries to have a wild evening (all he does is pay the check), is terrorized by the hotel elevator man and his on-call whore, has a date with a girl he likes—and hates, sees his 10 year old sister, Phoebe. He also visits a sympathetic English teacher after trying on a drunken session, and when he keeps his date with Phoebe, who turns up with her suitcase to join him on his flight, he heads home to a hospital siege. This is tender and true, and impossible, in its picture of the old hells of young boys, the lonesomeness and tentative attempts to be mature and secure, the awful block between youth and being grown-up, the fright and sickness that humans and their behavior cause the challenging, the dramatization of the big bang. It is a sorry little worm's view of the off-beat of adult pressure, of contemporary strictures and conformity, of sentiment….
A strict report, worthy of sympathy.Pub Date: June 15, 1951
ISBN: 0316769177
Page Count: -
Publisher: Little, Brown
Review Posted Online: Nov. 2, 2011
Kirkus Reviews Issue: June 15, 1951
BOOK REVIEW
SEEN & HEARD
SEEN & HEARD
APPRECIATIONS
The phrase “tour de force” could have been invented for this audacious novel.
Four men who meet as college roommates move to New York and spend the next three decades gaining renown in their professions—as an architect, painter, actor and lawyer—and struggling with demons in their intertwined personal lives.
Yanagihara (The People in the Trees, 2013) takes the still-bold leap of writing about characters who don’t share her background; in addition to being male, JB is African-American, Malcolm has a black father and white mother, Willem is white, and “Jude’s race was undetermined”—deserted at birth, he was raised in a monastery and had an unspeakably traumatic childhood that’s revealed slowly over the course of the book. Two of them are gay, one straight and one bisexual. There isn’t a single significant female character, and for a long novel, there isn’t much plot. There aren’t even many markers of what’s happening in the outside world; Jude moves to a loft in SoHo as a young man, but we don’t see the neighborhood change from gritty artists’ enclave to glitzy tourist destination. What we get instead is an intensely interior look at the friends’ psyches and relationships, and it’s utterly enthralling. The four men think about work and creativity and success and failure; they cook for each other, compete with each other and jostle for each other’s affection. JB bases his entire artistic career on painting portraits of his friends, while Malcolm takes care of them by designing their apartments and houses. When Jude, as an adult, is adopted by his favorite Harvard law professor, his friends join him for Thanksgiving in Cambridge every year. And when Willem becomes a movie star, they all bask in his glow. Eventually, the tone darkens and the story narrows to focus on Jude as the pain of his past cuts deep into his carefully constructed life.
The phrase “tour de force” could have been invented for this audacious novel.Pub Date: March 10, 2015
ISBN: 978-0-385-53925-8
Page Count: 720
Publisher: Doubleday
Review Posted Online: Dec. 21, 2014
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 1, 2015
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
PROFILES
PERSPECTIVES
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