Jul 23, 12
Read from July 02 to 09, 2012
I wanted to love this modern retelling of Edith Wharton's Age of Innocence (one of my all-time, desert island favorite books). And I was cheered to find myself making up reasons to steal away from daily life at any opportunity to turn the pages toward the inevitable, inexorable conclusion. But something about the exposition felt bogged down, like this was an exercise in a college writing class. Segal takes some bold and creative risks -- she mines the setting, the affluent Jewish community in northwest London, for some satisfying and funny parallels to Wharton's Gilded Age New York -- but her story never quite transcends that "training wheels" feeling. I look forward to her next novel, whenever that may be. And I really want someone from my book group to read this so we can discuss it in more depth.