I found the characters fascinating. The author's writing insightful. It was not the ending I expected, even though I didn't expect a "happy ending".
The front cover is a bit of a mismatch: the home is on a large lot next to a golf course, not on a residential street. But it does reflect the environment.
Here are the insightful lines I appreciated:
"There has been a house on this spot since 1747, when the first John Forsythe Dunlap turned in his barrister's wig, bought three chickens and two pigs, and moved west from Boston to farm the land." (Page 13)
"Caroline's younger brother, Eliot, the dregs of his parents' conjugal activity, has made it to age ten with a certain degree of grace-virtually unheard of in men of the Dunlap family." (Page 21)
"Storybook air-it actually smells sweet, of strawberries and cut grass." (Page 26)
Editing didn't catch the repeated reference to his parents on pages 49 and 66.
"[Concord] Back then, it was still a simple, small town with no frilly amenities or attractions-'The dullest little next of puritans you've ever laid eyes on,'...Which was exactly what Jack loved about it. The pandering cuteness of its new stores and restaurants makes him want to give up on New England and move out to Idaho or Wyoming, where being American is still a commitment, not just a happenstance." (Pages 49-50)
"'I had a dream last night,' Eliot says-he is looking at the corner of the table rather than anyone in particular-'that you were dead.'
...'Oh, Eliot,' Faith says. There are tears welling up in her eyes. The shadow of the American Legion flag flutters up the side of the building next door like a flame." (Pages 61-2)
It's true; what I recall from life's toughest moments are images of my surroundings and what was going on around me.
"Everywhere she is aware of the scrim of her childhood obscuring the lines and contours of the present-transforming the trees, the street signs, the telephone poles and boxwood bushes, the open vistas and stands of wood into complex forms with double meanings-the overlay of childhood vision onto the here and now." (Page 70)
"What made her sick? Eliot asked his father once, knowing that the word did not really accurately speak to her condition but having no other at his disposal. Too many questions, his father answered. Eliot has never understood whether these were questions that she asked, or that were asked of her. But it was enough to make him stop questioning." (Page 75)
While staying at her friend Lucy's, Faith had slept through breakfast even though Lucy had checked in on her. She is very judgmental of herself.
"Lucy's face peers back around the door...Except this time Faith is dressed, standing at the sink, not lolling like some teenage slut on her bed.
'You're awake! I saved you some breakfast,' Lucy says, coming through the door like a brisk, reassuring puff of oxygen-a safety line thrown out into the dense, gravityless orbit Faith has been floating in." (Pages 82-3)
"The canoe is rounding the uninhabited part of the island, where low scrub pines and rose-hip bushes grow along the headland and large peach-colored boulders rise out of the water like knees from a bathtub." (Page 145)
What an image!
"Outside the window, the world is gray and abandoned-looking. It has been raining and the sky has a concave weight to it like the underbelly of some giant fish." (Page 149)
Another great image!
"The west lobby of the Fair Oaks Retirement Home is a gallery of time's masterpieces-a room littered with bodies from whom all distinguishing marks of sex, experience, and personality have been exchanged for the uniform gray wash of old age." (Page 162)
Can plastic bags be broken? Page 177
Does this sentence make sense?
"The end glows bright when he inhales and then dims, arcing from his lips through the night." (Page 187)
Page 201; it's mOstaza, not mustaza.
"The Harvard crew is out on the Charles, their boats like delicate centipedes skimming the surface of the water." (Page 204)
?
"Jack's brain grows hard and blank around the name, like flesh around a bullet." (Page 206)
Rock was a great character, a light relief.
- At the dentist, "Where was the cheery small talk and reassuring use of euphemisms like "the easy chair" and "Mr. Slurpee"? (Page 213)
- "Rock gets up and stretches his stiff back, reaches his arms high above his head like the yoga woman on the late-night show he watches when he can't sleep. There is the buzz of blood in his ears and the crack of his spine, the feeling that something incredible has happened. He has had a baby. No, Jack Dunlap has had a baby. With his Colombian housekeeper. It sends a little skip of a thrill through Rock's body." (Pages 262-3)
- "Upstairs, Rock uses the bathroom, splashes water on his face, and borrows someone's sparkly purple toothbrush. It makes him feel fresher and more presentable. Clean on the inside, as his mother used to say." (Page 263)
- "From outside there is the swish of the clippers, and Brutus thumps into a new position behind the mudroom grate. Rock feels the table spread between them like a vast and shiny ocean, imagines each of them his or her own landmass with its small supply of soup and pancakes and water; with its own language and terrain and natural resources, its own peculiar breed of new and ancient conflicts, folklore and misunderstanding, with it's own method of mining iron ore, distilling hops, nurturing hope, and interpreting data, with its own extinct native peoples and thriving breeds of feathered scavengers, weeds, and urbanized wildlife, with it's own hampering inefficiencies, corruptions, beachfuls of evolutionary detritus and industrial waste." (Page 267)
Faith:
- "It feels lonely, suddenly, to be in this place that is neither New York or Boston-where no one knows her whereabouts." (Page 238)
- "She lifts her bag and steps onto the escalator. There is the moment of confusion as her bag is on one step, and she on another, and then stability-the hum of unseen machinery, the smooth glide of corrugated metal." (Page 271)
I appreciated the author's note at the end:
"I think of The Hazards of Good Breeding as being about individuals and families and love and frustration more than I think of it as being specifically about WASPs. The Dunlaps, like so many people out there, have hemmed themselves in with their own traditions, sense of propriety, and social insularity-and they are each struggling, in their own ways, to realize essential connections between their lives and the lives of others outside the narrow slice of the world they inhabit. Whether they succeed or not is up to each reader to decide for him- or herself."