Burnt Mountain by Anne Rivers Siddons

Posted on by marjorieseidenfeld

Even in early days, Thayer felt out of place in her own home. For while her older sister gravitated to shopping for pretty dresses and searching through the fashion magazines treasured by her mother, Thayer was much more likely to be found shoeless, in shorts and tee shirt, at her little makeshift hideaway by the river. While she cared little for fashion, she did love her books, and she adored both her father and grandmother, who both appreciated her for who she was. When a tragedy befell her family, Thayer knew she could turn to her grandmother, and her grandmother was truly there for her. Or was she?

This story began, as most of those written by Siddons, as a beautiful novel that created characters that we love right from the start. Thayer is at once spirited and shy, smart and awkward, and we bond with her and feel for her from the first word. And through the first several chapters, we are still with her as she struggles, experiences her first love, and loss, and tragedy. But the novel then takes a turn toward the bizarre, and that is where I begin to lose my connection to the story. While I still feel for Thayer, the other characters grow so dark and the plot line so vague, that it becomes almost disconnected to reality itself. And yes, I can believe that people can be dark and evil – I live in this world – but this is just suddenly and so weirdly so that it is hard to remain on board.

I am usually such a fan of Siddons’ writing, so this was a bit of a disappointment. I suppose every one of her books can’t be perfect, can they?

On to the next book, I guess!

Long Bright River by Liz Moore

Posted on by marjorieseidenfeld

Mickey is worried about her sister, Kacey, who’s been missing for more than a month. This would not be so unusual – both that her sister has been missing or that she is worried about her – except that there is currently a strangler on the loose who is out for women with exactly Kacey’s description: young, pretty, and addicted to heroin. You would think that Mickey might be able to rely on her family to help. You would also think that being on the police force in Philly would give her an advantage. Neither, sadly, seem to be the case. And apparently, it’s up to Mickey to figure out just why this is so.

This novel, which has recently been made into a streaming series (which I have not yet seen), is quite addictive in itself. The story is engaging from the beginning, growing ever more suspenseful as one turns its pages. And I found the characters to be gritty and vulnerable and often just desperate to find connection, family, and love – just as we all are, really. I felt totally connected to Mickey, even as hard as she had to be.

It’s admittedly a tough read, though, with some scenes that, while brief, depict the lives of those who are under the deeply-unmagical spell of the terrible drugs we’re seeing out there in such high numbers. But while it depicts the deplorable conditions many resign themselves to while in search of that next fix, it also highlights the community, the unofficial network that develops, even the care that some take to watch out for each other. These folks understand that underneath the unwashed desperation and the naked fear, these are human beings, with family who care about them, with complicated histories and feelings, and often with a true yearning to get clean but who just struggle against this horrible disease.

This story also addresses police corruption, which can be rampant in some cities. While I have true respect for officers who defend us honorably – they provide one of the most thankless and important contributions to society that we live with, truly. But I live in fear of those who are dishonorable. The abuse of power is a thing to be feared on any level – but if it’s someone with a weapon, that is terrifying.

On the whole, this is a novel that is hard to put down. If you commit to it, make sure you set aside time – you will not want to do anything else until you get to that very last page!

Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte

Posted on by marjorieseidenfeld

Poor little Jane has found herself orphaned, mistreated by her cousins, and unloved by her aunt who is her only surviving adult relative. While she has been educated, fed (just barely), clothed (in castaway clothing), and housed, she has also been the target of their physical and emotional abuse as well as their general disdain since her arrival at their home following her parents’ sudden death. After a particularly traumatic incident, she is sent away to a boarding school, where her life continues to be difficult but where she finds an inner strength that carries her through her continuous search for happiness and love.

Many of you have likely read this classic – I had not. But after finding myself reading so many novels that referenced it, I felt almost an obligation to enhance my apparently deficient education. So here it is – Jane Eyre, read and appreciated. While I did need a dictionary beside me to ensure I didn’t miss any of it – Bronte’s vocabulary far surpasses mine! – I did find it quite beautiful. The heroine herself is strong, blunt, and unapologetically intelligent. While she is diminutive in size, she is enormous in integrity, humility and character. She is industrious enough to give more than take; wise enough to listen more than speak. She is one we can only aspire to be.

And though the story is a bit far fetched, with coincidences beyond what we might expect to happen in the real world, it is still a plot that captures the imagination and keeps the reader wanting to know what could possibly come next. We are with Jane and her exploits, her journey, all the way. And we root for her until the very end.

This is an old tale, yes, but also timeless. If you haven’t read it, it is absolutely worthwhile. If nothing else, to at least bolster your vocabulary!

Like Mother Like Mother by Susan Rieger

Posted on by marjorieseidenfeld

This story begins at the almost end, at Lila’s memorial service, which, of course, Lila orchestrated just before her death. Even in death, Lila was in control: over the ceremony, over what prayers would be uttered, over what emotions would be kindled. And in life, to the extent that she could, she maintained control, never letting feelings interfere with her success. This to the detriment of her family, particularly as her husband and her youngest daughter, Grace, saw it. For these two, life was hard, as they wanted – no, needed – more from Lila. It was unsurprising, though, that Lila was unable to be motherly, given her origin story, which was still unresolved. Did Lila’s own mother die, as she was told she did? Did she run away from her abusive husband? And could Grace live with this question left unresolved?

This is a fascinating story, in that it leads us to question our expectations of “traditional” gender roles. Lila, a daughter and a mother, is fully self-aware in her inability to mother in the common sense of the word, and prior to her becoming one, she acknowledges this. Though her husband takes on the role of both mother and father, he continues to hope against hope that she will change, but people rarely do – and this remains true in Lila’s case. Lila’s two older daughters are comfortable in their situation because they have each other, being close in age – virtually twins – and they move on. Grace, however, is stuck. Stuck in her determination to want a mother, stuck in her frustration with her not having a mother who bakes for the PTA or who picks her up after school.

But the story also highlights these unfair expectations. Why is it that we expect all mothers to be a certain way? In fact, if the story were told as “Like Father Like Father,” it would not even be elevated to the level of “story” at all. If the father had not been nurturing, if the father had not compromised his career to raise the children, or if the father had not been the “manager” for the family – there would be no story, nothing to see here. In fact, when a father does these things, we laud him, we praise him. He stands out. Worse, too, I found myself falling into this pitfall: I felt shocked by some of Lila’s reactions, I felt appalled by some of her comments. Perhaps because it has been my experience that these responsibilities have been shared, I believe that BOTH parents (if there are two) have an obligation to carry the emotional weight of their children, to manage their lives, to show up for them. And they should both be nurturing in whatever ways they can be.

On a more literary note, the book is also a fun read. The characters are easy to get to know and bond with, and the plot has an underlying tension as we continue to wonder what actually did happen to Lila’s mother. I highly recommend this novel – I believe it will entertain as well as make you think. What more could you ask for?

Tell Me Everything by Elizabeth Strout

Posted on by marjorieseidenfeld

Lucy and Bob have developed a lovely friendship over the years. While they are both either living with or married to other people, they take frequent walks with each other, confiding in each other about their lives, their relationships, even random thoughts in a way that they do with few others. Even when Bob becomes involved in defending someone accused of murder, they continue to bond and share their stories. But will they be able to stay just friends? Will the secrets they harbor bring them closer or keep them apart?

I am still deciding how I feel about this book… While reading it, I felt very indifferent about it, almost deciding to give up on it at some points, but not doing so. I am not entirely sure why this was so, but I believe it was because it felt as though the author herself was indifferent toward the characters, that they were just sort of there, living their lives. And even when the characters were interesting or had something impactful to say, it was all presented in such an off-hand manner that it was hard to get excited about any of it. Even the most endearing character, Bob, who was truly kind to everyone around him, was hard to really grow attached to. Perhaps because the author felt this way too?

I also found the author to make use of the colon (the punctuation mark, not the anatomical part) more than any other than I’ve ever seen and in such bizarre ways. It often felt as though Tell Me Everything was more of an expository essay than a novel, that ideas were presented as lists or facts rather than a telling of a story. This did not appeal to me at all.

On the other hand, as I sit here and contemplate the narrative as a whole, with its stories within the story, I feel that one might find it a meaningful read in that it is a commentary about relationships and people’s stories and, ironically, how they get told. While some are more willing to share their secrets with others, some are reluctant to share what they know, and others have kept secrets to the detriment of those closest to them. This comes out gradually as the plot unfolds, in layers, as if peeling away at an onion. And we often judge others without knowing the secrets they harbor, without knowing what they are carrying around with them.

So this may be one of those novels that has to sit with you awhile, that grows on you after you have completed the task of reading it. Maybe too much work? Maybe worth the effort? I’m curious to hear your thoughts…