Memoirs of An Imaginary Friend by Matthew Dicks

Memoirs of an Imaginary Friend: A Novel
by Matthew Dicks

This story introduces us to a parallel world inhabited by imaginary friends whose existence depends upon their “imaginer friends” believing in them.  Narrated by Budo, imaginary friend to Max, an eight-year old boy who “lives mostly on the inside.”  Max is different from most of his peers, and because of this, he is often misunderstood and often bullied. Even his parents are largely mystified by him, and his differences cause much tension between his mom and dad; his mom wants to get him help, while his dad wants to pretend that Max is “normal.”  Only Budo understands Max and accepts him just as he is.

Although the term “autism” is never used in the book, it’s understood that Max has autism.  I have no idea how accurately it portrays a child “on the spectrum,” and I have no idea if the author has any personal connection to anyone with autism.  I’m always wary of reading about Down syndrome, being the parent of a child with Down syndrome – wary of stereotypes and misconceptions, especially when reading things by anyone who doesn’t actually have a personal connection to Down syndrome.  As I was reading this book, I kept wondering how I would perceive it if I were the parent of a child with autism.

In any case, Memoirs of An Imaginary Friend is a novel, and it doesn’t set out to explain or advocate for autism; it sets out to tell a story about a boy and his imaginary friend, and about love and loyalty and sacrifice: ” . . . the hard thing and the right thing are usually the same thing,” Budo realizes when Max is abducted by a disturbed paraprofessional and Budo figures out that the only way he may be able to save Max is to sacrifice his own existence.

Easy read; really enjoyed it.

Call the Midwife: Shadows of the Workhouse by Jennifer Worth

Call the Midwife: Shadows of the Workhouse
by Jennifer Worth

This is actually the second book in a trilogy written by Jennifer Worth, recounting her time as a nurse/midwife in 1950s London.  I read the first book, originally titled, simply, The Midwife, several years ago – back before the PBS television series Call the Midwife was born (which I still have never seen, as I’m not much of a television watcher).  I don’t know if the title of the book was changed after the TV series became a hit, or before, but it is now titled Call the Midwife: A Memoir of Birth, Joy, and Hard Times.  I discovered a long time ago that Jennifer Worth (who died in 2011, apparently) had written two follow-up books to her original memoir, The Midwife, but they went out of print before I could ever get my hands on them, and it was only recently that I realized that they are available, just under the new title, Call the Midwife.

I couldn’t wait to dig into this second book once I discovered it, remembering how much I loved Worth’s first book, and expecting more wonderful birth stories, being the birth-story junkie that I am.  However, Shadows of the Workhouse does not contain a single birth story.  Rather than focusing on her career as a midwife (which, as it turns out, was relatively short-lived; I was disappointed to learn that midwifery was not her “calling,” but rather something she tried her hand at for a few short years.  Her true passion, apparently, was music, and eventually, she left midwifery and nursing to study music), this book recounts the lives of several people with whom Worth became acquainted with during her time working in London’s East End who had grown up in workhouses.  These are stories of almost unimaginable suffering, but also resilience and love and the strength of the human spirit.  My disappointment at the absence of more stories of birth was quickly replaced by an appreciation for Worth’s gift for recounting all sorts of harrowing stories and moving the reader deeply.

I have no idea how much the PBS series follows Worth’s books, but whether you’re a fan of the TV show or not, I really recommend the books.  I have the third book in the series and will be reading it shortly.

And the Winner Is . . .

I randomly drew a name from the pool of commenters on my review of A Complicated Marriage and the lucky winner of a free copy of the book is Anne!

Thanks for your interest, and happy reading, everyone!

The Middlesteins by Jami Attenberg

The Middlesteins: A Novel
by Jami Attenberg

If you’ve followed this blog for any length of time, you’ve probably noticed that I’ve had The Middlesteins in the sidebar under “Currently Listening To” forever.  Or at least for several months.  It’s true that it took me a looooooong time to get through this novel – mainly because, while listening to audiobooks can, theoretically, make “reading” possible virtually anywhere, but especially on the go, the truth is that I don’t really go enough places which would allow for ample opportunity to listen to anything on my iPod for more than five or ten minutes at a time.  My plan at the beginning of the year was to start listening to books when I’m nursing the baby – after all, it seems that I spend half my waking hours in that rocking chair.  But in reality, it’s hard to listen to a book when you have a grabby baby who keeps yanking your earbuds out.  So, I was determined to get back into walking at least a few times a week – exercise and time to listen to books, right?  Well, then I broke my toe a few weeks ago and that plan was foiled, or at least put off.  So I listened to The Middlesteins in fits and starts and it took me approximately four months to get through.

My toe is healed now, in case you’re worried, so this morning I walked for the first time in a long time, and I got through three chapters of my next audio book.  Yay!

But back the The Middlesteins.

First let me say that the audio version is read by Molly Ringwald – yes, that Molly Ringwald – of Brat Pack, The Breakfast Club and Pretty in Pink fame.  I have found that the reader of an audio book can make or break the experience; Molly Ringwald does a fabulous job with this book, switching voices of the characters, adopting subtle accents – really great.

The Middlesteins is a portrait of a Jewish family in contemporary Chicago.  At the heart of the story is Edie, age 60ish, morbidly obese, and killing herself with food.  The story opens with a five-year old Edie, already big for her age, and her parents expressing their love for her with food.  As the story progresses, Edie gets bigger and bigger, eating herself diabetic to the point of requiring stents in both legs and with a bypass on the horizon – and still she can’t (or won’t) stop eating.  Her husband of nearly forty years, suffocating under the weight of Edie’s addiction, ups and leaves her, shocking the entire family.  What kind of man leaves his sick wife like that?  Lines are drawn in the sand, and everyone takes a side – mostly Edie’s side, since she’s clearly unwell.  Edie’s two grown children, her grandchildren, and her daughter-in-law all rally around Edie, determined to get her well.  Of course there is a sad futility to their noble determination.

Meanwhile, Richard Middlestein has a new, if tentative, lease on life, and enters the mature dating scene, hooking up with a hooker, a divorcee, and finally falling in love with a British widow.  Of course he harbors guilt for leaving Edie, but what was he supposed to do – watch her kill herself and die right along with her?  Nobody seems to understand – they all just see him as heartless and selfish, the asshole who left Edie in her time of need.

The characters are complex, and the chapters are told from varying points of view: from Edie herself, who maintains grit and an optimism about life despite her despairing physical condition; Richard Middlestein, Edie’s estranged husband; Robin, the prickly daughter full of pain; Benny, the worried son; Rachelle, the take-control daughter-in-law; the spoiled twins whose b’nai mitzvah is the centerpiece of the novel; and even the elderly Chinese restaurant owner who falls for Edie.

The Middlesteins takes a hard look at the forces that drive people – especially to self-destruction – with humor and compassion, while showing the complex relationships between family members, and what loyalty means.

I did really enjoy this story, and I’m sure would have enjoyed it more had I stuck with it more consistently.

A Complicated Marriage by Janice Van Horne (Review & Giveaway!)

A Complicated Marriage: My Life With Clement Greenberg
by Janice Van Horne

I agreed to read and review this book for TLC Book Tours; it’s not a book I probably would have picked up otherwise, but it’s good to have my horizons expanded a bit once in a while.

The story opens on an Indian-summer night in 1955 NYC, with a young, recently-graduated-from-college Janice Van Horne – or Jenny, as she’s affectionately known – in attendance at a party.  I loved how the opening scene was presented:

There is a young woman, very young, in fact just twenty-one, seated on the edge of a paisley-draped foam couch in the living room.  She crosses and uncrosses her long legs under the midcalf, serviceable gray wool skirt, far too heavy for such a warm night.  Made by a local dressmaker and bought at a Bennington College sale for $12, the skirt is so serviceable that for forty-five years it will hang in her closet, rarely if ever worn.  Besides the moths, maybe it is her memories it will serve.

…

She looks down, appraising her sandals, new, from Fred Segal on MacDougal Street, with leather thongs that lace up past her ankles.  Too tight, they will leave grooves that will take years to erase, but tonight her only concern is that her exposed feet might look too big, which they are.  She smokes a Pall Mall and then another, and holds a glass with a few inches of gin and a dollop of tonic, as if it were her ticket to where the high life might be.

Something about this opening scene brings to mind a curtain rising and revealing a stage set, and the reader is invited to sit back and watch the show.  And no wonder it has this feeling – Van Horne becomes a successful playwright many years after this fateful night in 1955 when a much older man sits down beside her on that paisley couch and enters her life.

That man is Clement Greenberg – or Clem – and he is more than twice the virginal Jenny’s age, with one brief marriage, a grown son, and a string of affairs and girlfriends behind him – in fact, on this night, he is still entangled with another woman also present at the party.  He is also “the most famous, the most important, art critic in the world.”

Eventually this unlikely pair get married – after Clem’s contingency “as long as everything stays the same,” and his offhand reference to an “open marriage,” which Jenny barely bats an eye at because she can’t fathom that he’s serious.  Over the course of their nearly forty-year relationship, Jenny is thrust into the art world where she regularly rubs elbows with many important and influential people, travels the world, and yes, engages in an open marriage.  About half of the book takes place in the 1950s, with the second half covering the ’60s, ’70s, ’80s, and ’90′s.

There were large chunks of the story that kept me engaged, and large chunks – mainly the chapters devoted to describing Clem’s and her relationships with people in the art world (people I’ve never heard of), that bored me and I found myself skimming those portions.  Although the book’s subtitle is “My Life With Clement Greenberg,” it’s really only partly about Van Horne’s life with Greenberg; it’s largely a story of self-reflection and discovery.  Jenny is a hard nut to crack – in the end, I never did figure out if she was happy with her life or not.

I think the title is a little misleading.  It seems as though their agreement to have an open marriage was, in fact, to keep things from becoming too complicated – and I never got the sense that their relationship was “complicated.”  I think “interesting” would be a more apt description.  It’s hard to relate to the idea of an open marriage, but, hey, it seemed to work for them – although it’s hard to imagine their daughter wasn’t deprived of some sense of stability.

In any case, it’s a good book, although it is probably more to the liking of: (a) people interested in and knowledgeable about the art world, and (b) people intimately familiar with that bygone era of 1950s New York.

TLC Book Tours has set aside a copy of this book for me to give away to a lucky winner!  If you’re interested, leave a comment saying so, and I’ll choose a random winner on Monday, May 20.

Mother’s Day Daily Book Giveaway!

My friend and fellow blogger, and soon-to-be-published author, Gillian Marchenko, is hosting a daily book giveaway this week in honor of Mother’s Day.  That’s right: every day this week, someone will be the lucky winner of an excellent book, signed by the author.  Who doesn’t love a free book?

If you’re a mother, or a reader, or a mother and a reader, you don’t want to miss this.  Click here for all the details!

 

The Edge of the Earth by Christina Schwarz

The Edge of the Earth: A Novel
by Christina Schwarz

After reading The Light Between Oceans a few months back, I was eager to read another novel about life in a lighthouse when I came across The Edge of the Earth.  Unfortunately, the latter did not live up to the former.

The Edge of the Earth tells of Trudy, a young, pampered woman from a well-to-do family in late nineteenth-century Wisconsin who wants to break free of the future laid out neatly ahead of her by her parents.  Her future husband has been picked out for her, her future house, and even the flowers that will be planted in her future house’s garden.  Trudy wants adventure; she wants to make her own decisions and experience a life well beyond the suffocating safety of convention.

When Oskar, a cousin of Trudy’s intended husband, comes along, he quickly sweeps her off her feet with his disdain for convention and his appetite for adventure.  Best of all, he sees in Trudy what nobody else seems to want to see: an ability to grab life by the horns and take it for a ride.

Leaving everyone behind and disappointed in the rash choices Trudy has made, the young couple travel to distant Point Lucia, an isolated and desolate part of the California coast, to live and work as assistant Lighthouse Keepers.  The Point Lucia Lighthouse is an actual lighthouse, though it is known as the Point Sur Lighthouse.  Once settled in their new home, Trudy, not surprisingly, realizes that her new husband, whom she saw before as adventurous and unconventional, now seems to be exactly what she had been warned of: flighty, noncommittal, and full of harebrained ideas.

Point Lucia seems to hold some dark secrets, and eventually Trudy begins a quest to unravel these mysteries.  And thus, her real adventure begins.

In all honesty, despite a promising premise, I found the story a little dry and boring.  Although Trudy is painted as a restless young woman itching to make her way in the world, in actuality she comes off as spoiled and pampered and not someone who actually seems likely to break the chains of propriety.  So I found her character to be somewhat unbelievable.  The real action in the story doesn’t begin until about two-thirds of the way through the book; once I reached that point, it kept me turning pages, but it was a bit of a chore to reach that point.  In the end, the author seemed in a hurry to wrap things up neatly, so all in all, I was left feeling unsatisfied.

My take:  eh.