After a lengthy buildup, which doggedly connects all the characters, however peripheral, there’s a rewarding, bittersweet...
A letter points the way to a castle in Kent, which harbors decades of grim secrets, in Morton’s latest (The House at Riverton, 2008, etc.).
Edie, a young woman underemployed by a London small press, is puzzled when her normally placid mother Meredith receives a long-delayed letter and bursts into tears. The letter, it turns out, is from Juniper, one of the three Blythe sisters who inhabit Milderhurst Castle, where Meredith, as a child during World War II, was evacuated to escape the Blitz. From here the story ricochets between the war years and the early 1990s. The evacuation proves to be an unexpected blessing for Meredith, a shy, bookish girl who’s misunderstood by her working-class family. Her teacher, Thomas Cavill, encourages her to excel in her studies. She finds true kinship with the three daughters of Raymond Blythe, famed author of a children’s classic entitled The True History of the Mud Man. Raymond, demented and delusional, has secluded himself in his tower room. Much to the chagrin of his eldest daughter Percy, Raymond has evinced an intention to disinherit his daughters. Second sister Saffy schemes to escape the castle for London. Percy is alarmed when Lucy, Milderhurst’s last remaining servant, deserts the family for marriage to their clock repairman—Percy's secret crush? Baby sister Juniper meets Thomas when he arrives to check on Meredith. After a whirlwind London love affair, Juniper defies Percy to announce wedding plans. Thrilled, Saffy makes Juniper a party dress and plans an engagement dinner. Juniper and Thomas are due from London by separate trains, but only Juniper shows up. Like Dickens' Miss Havisham, Juniper will grow old, still wearing the tatters of the dress she donned for the fiancé who got away. As Edie plumbs Milderhurst’s many mysteries, she also struggles to learn what short-circuited her mother’s dreams, so briefly kindled 50 years before.
After a lengthy buildup, which doggedly connects all the characters, however peripheral, there’s a rewarding, bittersweet payoff in the author’s most gothic tale yet.Pub Date: Nov. 9, 2010
ISBN: 978-1-4391-5278-2
Page Count: 480
Publisher: Atria
Review Posted Online: Sept. 27, 2010
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Oct. 15, 2010
A quick-witted and ultimately hopeful look at what it takes to make a marriage last.
A couple decides to save their relationship by attempting an open marriage.
Jessica and Mitch Butler have a happy marriage. Well, happy enough. Married for years with two children, it’s inevitable that they won’t feel the swells of passion every day, right? But when their three best couple friends get divorced around the same time, Jessica and Mitch start to reevaluate things. They thought their friends’ marriages were fine, but something tore them all apart. And, naturally, Jessica and Mitch start to wonder if the same thing could happen to them. So, to stave off the divorce that now seems inevitable, they try something dramatic: an open marriage. More specifically, an “evolved” marriage, one that allows each of them to have sex with other people, with several rules in place (no repeats, no one they know, etc.). Jessica immediately hits it off with a young, sexy bartender who sweeps her off her feet, but Mitch has more trouble connecting with women. And both of them realize, with help from their divorced friends, that dating is a lot different now that apps are on the scene. Although Jessica and Mitch’s plan may be a bit out of the box, their relationship and feelings are believable. Norman (We’re All Damaged, 2016, etc.) also creates a plethora of rounded, quirky side characters, including Jessica’s teenage therapy patient Scarlett and Mitch’s nerdy student Luke. When all of those characters come together in the story’s climax, the result is a scene worthy of a Shakespearean comedy.
A quick-witted and ultimately hopeful look at what it takes to make a marriage last.Pub Date: March 17, 2020
ISBN: 978-1-984821-06-5
Page Count: 288
Publisher: Ballantine
Review Posted Online: Dec. 22, 2019
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Jan. 15, 2020
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
A pleasingly dystopian exercise in building a world without social media—and without social graces, for that matter.
The past isn’t even past—but the one postmodern fictionalist Levin imagines is stranger than most.
Levin turns in a big, futuristic shaggy dog tale, except that the dog isn’t so shaggy. In fact, it’s a rather tidy, lovable little critter called a Curio, or “cure,” a sort of emotional support animal that lends itself to all kinds of bad treatment. In Levin’s future—or past, that is, since most of the action ranges between the early 1980s and the early 2010s—the technological advances we’ve become used to are absent: There are no iPhones, no internet, no Facebook. You’d think that such lacunae would make people feel happy, but instead strange forms of life have been concocted, with inanimate objects capable of feeling and voicing discontent and pain as well as acquiring some of the traits the humans around them possess. Levin’s hero in this overlong but amusing story is an alienated memoirist with the science-fictional name of Belt Magnet. But then, everyone in this story has an unusual moniker: Lotta Hogg, Jonboat Pellmore-Jason, Blackie Buxman, and so forth. His cure has the name Blank, “short for Kablankey, the name I’d given it, at my mother’s suggestion, for the sound of its sneeze.” By the end of the story, even though Blank is a mass-produced laboratory thing, the reader will care for him/it just as much as Belt does—and will certainly be shocked by the horrible things some of the characters do to the inanimate and lab-born things among them. Says a guy named Triple-J, brightly, “Let’s use those Band-Aids to Band-Aid a cure to the slide at the playground, throw some rocks at it from a distance, and see if something revolutionary develops—some new kind of Curio interaction that doesn’t end in overload, and that we never would have expected to enjoy.” If Levin’s point is that humans are rotten no matter what tools you put in their hands, he proves it again and again.
A pleasingly dystopian exercise in building a world without social media—and without social graces, for that matter.Pub Date: April 14, 2020
ISBN: 978-0-385-54496-2
Page Count: 784
Publisher: Doubleday
Review Posted Online: Jan. 12, 2020
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 1, 2020
BOOK REVIEW
BOOK REVIEW
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