Okay, disclaimer time: This review is my own opinion. I had friends who liked this book very much, and that's great! If you got something out of it, more power to you! It was well-written, and I was invested, especially at the beginning. I cared enough about it to feel justified holding it a high standard, and it just didn't live up to it for me. If the whole thing had been bad, I wouldn't have cared. But it was just good enough, and its premise just interesting enough, to make me feel disappointed at the clumsy way in which the plot was handled. Okay, on to the review!
There is a Marx Brothers movie called A Night At the Opera. In one scene, someone sabotages the orchestra by placing the score of "Take Me Out To the Ball Game" inside the score of the operatic music they were scheduled to perform. The orchestra starts out with some gentle classical music, but when the conductor turns the page, the musicians switch gears dramatically and start the other song in a completely different style. It's funny for many reasons, not least of which is that no matter what happens, the musicians are together. They all change songs at the exact same time. There is no chaos, no discordant notes: just an immediate switch from one song to another, radically different, one.
This book is kind of like that. Instead of two musical scores getting merged together, it's as though there were two different manuscripts for two different novels, and someone put them together in the same briefcase and mixed up the pages, and then published them as a single hybrid volume. I felt like I was reading one novel, and then I'd turn a page and find myself reading a few chapters that didn't even feel like the same book.
To continue the metaphor, one of those briefcase manuscripts might have been something special.
This could have been a story about a supermodel in a high-stakes world struggling with drug addiction, or an immigrant in an abusive relationship who doesn't have any recourse, or children whose mother dies. When the main character finds herself raising her dead friend's two children, and she moves back across the country to her parents' home to give the kids some stability. She chucks her career, her home, her established life, in order to give the children everything that they need. Her whole world is reframed around those whom she's been entrusted to protect and nurture. If that had been the focus, it might have made a memorable novel. Her parents and grown siblings shine as supportive relatives. The young children understand that their mother is gone, and they are now leaving behind everything they know. One of the children is worried about going to a new school in a small town so homogeneous that he and his sister will be "the only brown kids" amidst a sea of white faces. And this is on top of the domestic violence and personal tragedy he's already endured. A woman with no experience working with children suddenly becomes the center of their lives. Supportive adults (therapists, social workers, teachers, etc.) help the children grow beyond trauma. This might have been interesting.
And then there's the rest of it.
The other story in my tw0-novels-got-spliced metaphor is a romance novel. The main character arrives in her hometown with these two traumatized newly orphaned children and runs smack into her old (married) middle school crush. Will he still like her? Is he still attractive? And of course, the story is peppered with flashbacks to her childhood moments of pining for him. Will he be at the school dance? Will her lip gloss still be shiny in an hour? Aw, gee! The suspense! (Spoiler alert: no. She has to reapply it every hour. Seriously. That's part of the story.) What about now? Does her dress match her earrings? Does her purse clash with her shoes? Whose ponytail is bouncier? Whose skin is clearer? Will he ever notice her? (Spoiler alert: yes. Also, duh.)
Okay, so I'm being harsh. I can see that, and I'm probably not quite being fair. But here are some issues:
• She's not really any more mature as an adult than she was as a kid. Her character is the same in both the past and present storylines.
• The author set up some tough issues early on in the book. How am I supposed to feel invested in shiny lip gloss (or really, any of this) while characters with real problems are suddenly getting sidelined?
• Also, the book takes potshots at religion. I am so tired of the cliché where anyone who is religious is either stupid or mean.
• Also, the book takes potshots at youth. At one point, the heroine even says that teens only go to youth group meetings to make out. It's as though she thinks teens aren't capable of being spiritual, or that they don't have any actual problems that would prompt them to find a trusted adult. This is coming from a character who leads a support group for victims of domestic violence. I would expect a bit less generalization about everybody's home life.
• And what about the heroine? For someone who's given up everything to care for these orphans, she gets to be pretty self-absorbed as soon as HE enters the picture.
• And what about the love interest? The guy is married. To her best friend. With whom, apparently, she's never been completely honest.
I think we're supposed to cheer when he dumps his wife and sleeps with the heroine. The weird thing about it is that his marriage might have made an interesting focus. (Again, if only!) At the beginning of the novel, they both still love each other, but they're starting to realize that they want different things in life. She's a model in her mid-30s, near the end of her career, and she's terrified of losing her livelihood, her friends, her independence, her world. He's former military, so they've spent years of their marriage living apart. Now he's home permanently, and they need to find out who they are together. Of course, this novel isn't supposed to be about them. I think the author must have realized that the wife character was starting to have more depth than the heroine, because near the end of the novel, she starts lying to her husband and stuff, so that he can leave her without the readers feeling too sorry for her.
It's too bad the romance portion, which was mediocre, was the focus.
It's too bad the heroes are all perfect and the villains are all cartoonish.
It's too bad that the problems set up early in the story get sidelined for the bulk of the novel.
The other big problem is that these serious issues turn out to be very easily solved at the end.
Her career is on the skids? No worries! She'll just fly back across the country, embarrass the guy who fired her, get the media on her side with no difficulty, organize a bunch of people to support her, accidentally befriend a millionaire, and create her own business that was even better. Hooray!
Her best friend is divorced? That's okay! She'll step in to console the husband! Hooray!
Her adopted son is worried about school? Not a problem! She'll make him a new T-shirt. Hooray!
She knows some women who have been victims of domestic abuse? Easily solved! She'll make her own support group for them! I think they might even have a few pages of plot here and there. You know, in between the lip gloss scenes.
It's all just a little too pat. It's a bit insulting. To be fair, I don't think that the novel was trying to suggest that the boy would never have any problems as long as he can have fancy new T-shirts. However, that bit with the T-shirt is the happy moment that wraps up his subplot. It's as though the author wanted everything to be resolved so that she could focus on the love story at the end of the book. That child has been through a lot of tragedy, and he will have ups and downs for a long time.
I felt similarly cheated by the humilates-the-bad-guy-and-fixes-her-career-after-being-blackballed subplot. Her career tanks early on in the novel, and she tries to fight back against the unethical businessman who sabotaged her, but he's too powerful and too well-connected, and she has no evidence to back her claims. After her defeat, she adopts the kids, moves away, and starts a new life. I liked that. Things are often hard and unfair in real life, and after we've lost something, we have a chance to rediscover who we are, and to be strong. The instant-happy ending undid any character growth she'd undergone. Who is she without her career? Who is she with a different career? Who is she when she endures humiliation and doesn't let it define her? Who is she when she fight to uphold dignity and honor for herself? I guess it doesn't matter, because when life hands her a get-out-of-every-problem-free card, she just doesn't have to worry about much of anything.
Parts of this book were quite good. It's just that the good stuff was never the focus.