David Rosenfelt’s Hounded is the latest installment in the Andy Carpenter series. Despite the fact that this is the twelfth book in this seemingly popular series, this was actually my first book by this writer. While someone more familiar with the impressive list of characters (and there are many) would probably enjoy the book a little more given their familiarity with character histories and quirks, I nonetheless found the book offered a compelling, entertaining and enjoyable read that could easily stand on its own merit without having read the entire series.
In Hounded, Andy Carpenter is a multi-millionaire defense attorney, who along with his girlfriend, Laurie Collins, an ex-cop and investigator is tasked with coming to his good friend’s, policeman Pete Stanton, rescue. While attending a crossword championship with his secretary Edna, Andy and Laurie get a mysterious phone call from Pete asking that they go to a nearby address, which turns out to be the site of a murder. Pete calls in a favor and asks if they would take care of the murder victim’s, Danny Diaz, orphaned eight year old son and basset hound in order to avoid them getting thrown in to the system. Soon Pete needs a much bigger favor from Andy when he’s accused of Danny’s murder. Turning to his unorthodox group of friends and allies, including his accountant and computer hacker Sam Willis, his former client Willie Miller and his mobster friends, and scary bodyguard Marcus, Andy starts to dig for the truth and finds that truth is stranger than fiction in this engaging and fun mystery.
I really enjoyed Hounded. It was a funny, fast-paced and relatively suspenseful mystery and legal thriller. Andy’s character offers the perfect mixture of sarcasm, wit and genuineness that makes you easily relate and fall in love with him. What seemed early on like a straightforward whodunnit actually proved to be an intriguing and original conspiracy that kept me guessing throughout (though I did figure it out three-quarters of the way through). A great measure of how much I enjoyed the book is the fact that upon finishing it, I went to the library and took out the first book in the series Open and Shut, which proved equally gripping with just as much humor and heart.
Author David Rosenfelt proves an interesting character in his own right. Having read two of his books, I went to his website and noted that actually all his books feature a dog in some aspect or another of the tale and as with his main character, dog lover Andy Carpenter, Rosenfelt himself created the Tara Foundation (the name of Andy’s beloved golden retriever), which has rescued almost 4,000 dogs many of them Goldens.
Hounded was a charming, witty and stimulating story featuring a wisecracking and lovable protagonist that will win over old and new (like me) fans alike.
Sharing my thoughts, observations, and ideas on TV, books, life...and so much more
Monday, August 25, 2014
Television's Biggest Night
The countdown is on folks. Yes indeed, today are the Primetime Emmy Awards when we’ll be basking in the luminescent splendor of Hollywood’s A-list celebrities (or as Amy Poehler would have you believe, “the rat-faced people of television”) as they walk down the red carpet to receive their well-earned pats on the back for a riveting season of television. As most of you may know (or maybe not), Emmy nominations were announced a few weeks ago to really no fanfare because it was way too early in the morning, nonetheless, for those of you remotely interested, I’ve provided below a partial list of nominees.
Best Drama Series: “Breaking Bad”; “Downton Abbey”; “Game of Thrones”; “House of Cards”; “Mad Men”; “True Detective”
Best Comedy Series: “The Big Bang Theory”; “Louie”; “Modern Family”; “Orange is the New Black”; “Silicon Valley”; “Veep”
Lead Actor in a Drama Series: Bryan Cranston, “Breaking Bad”; Jeff Daniels, “The Newsroom”; Jon Hamm, “Mad Men”; Woody Harrelson, “True Detective”; Matthew McConaughey, “True Detective”; Kevin Spacey, “House of Cards”
Lead Actress in a Drama Series: Lizzy Caplan, “Masters of Sex”; Claire Danes, “Homeland”; Michelle Dockery, “Downton Abbey”; Julianna Margulies, “The Good Wife”; Kerry Washington, “Scandal”; Robin Wright, “House of Cards”
Lead Actor, Comedy: Jim Parsons, “The Big Bang Theory”; Ricky Gervais, “Derek”; Matt LeBlanc, “Episodes”; Don Cheadle, “House of Lies”; Louis C.K., “Louie”; William H. Macy, “Shameless”
Lead Actress, Comedy: Lena Dunham, “Girls”; Edie Falco, “Nurse Jackie”; Julia Louis Dreyfus, “Veep”; Melissa McCarthy, “Mike & Molly”; Amy Poehler, “Parks & Recreation”; Taylor Schilling, “Orange Is the New Black”
Kudos to all the nominees, but I have a small bone to pick with the Academy so bear with me while I go on a brief albeit pointless rant. Look, I fully grasp that there are so many good shows on TV that it’s hard to nominate everyone worthy, but I refuse to believe that quality television can only be found on cable channels, which is the impression you’d get from the snobs over at the Academy after a cursory review of the above list of nominees, especially in all of the drama categories.
The Best Actor in a Drama category for example is composed strictly of actors on cable shows; not a one, nada, zip, from the broadcast network channels. Really? Really? How about James Spader from The Blacklist, Mads Mikkelsen from Hannibal, or James Spader from The Blacklist? Umm, have I made my bias a little too obvious? Well, now that it’s out there, let me say in my defense that Spader was sheer genius as Raymond Reddington and his scene-stealing performances definitely merited at least a nomination.
Alas, tomorrow is another day (which is pretty obvious), but anyway thanks for letting me vent. Tune in to NBC tonight to watch Seth Meyers crack a few jokes and hand out some shiny trophies to some deserving winners.
Best Drama Series: “Breaking Bad”; “Downton Abbey”; “Game of Thrones”; “House of Cards”; “Mad Men”; “True Detective”
Best Comedy Series: “The Big Bang Theory”; “Louie”; “Modern Family”; “Orange is the New Black”; “Silicon Valley”; “Veep”
Lead Actor in a Drama Series: Bryan Cranston, “Breaking Bad”; Jeff Daniels, “The Newsroom”; Jon Hamm, “Mad Men”; Woody Harrelson, “True Detective”; Matthew McConaughey, “True Detective”; Kevin Spacey, “House of Cards”
Lead Actress in a Drama Series: Lizzy Caplan, “Masters of Sex”; Claire Danes, “Homeland”; Michelle Dockery, “Downton Abbey”; Julianna Margulies, “The Good Wife”; Kerry Washington, “Scandal”; Robin Wright, “House of Cards”
Lead Actor, Comedy: Jim Parsons, “The Big Bang Theory”; Ricky Gervais, “Derek”; Matt LeBlanc, “Episodes”; Don Cheadle, “House of Lies”; Louis C.K., “Louie”; William H. Macy, “Shameless”
Lead Actress, Comedy: Lena Dunham, “Girls”; Edie Falco, “Nurse Jackie”; Julia Louis Dreyfus, “Veep”; Melissa McCarthy, “Mike & Molly”; Amy Poehler, “Parks & Recreation”; Taylor Schilling, “Orange Is the New Black”
Kudos to all the nominees, but I have a small bone to pick with the Academy so bear with me while I go on a brief albeit pointless rant. Look, I fully grasp that there are so many good shows on TV that it’s hard to nominate everyone worthy, but I refuse to believe that quality television can only be found on cable channels, which is the impression you’d get from the snobs over at the Academy after a cursory review of the above list of nominees, especially in all of the drama categories.
The Best Actor in a Drama category for example is composed strictly of actors on cable shows; not a one, nada, zip, from the broadcast network channels. Really? Really? How about James Spader from The Blacklist, Mads Mikkelsen from Hannibal, or James Spader from The Blacklist? Umm, have I made my bias a little too obvious? Well, now that it’s out there, let me say in my defense that Spader was sheer genius as Raymond Reddington and his scene-stealing performances definitely merited at least a nomination.
Alas, tomorrow is another day (which is pretty obvious), but anyway thanks for letting me vent. Tune in to NBC tonight to watch Seth Meyers crack a few jokes and hand out some shiny trophies to some deserving winners.
Tuesday, August 19, 2014
The Colour of Milk
The Colour of Milk by British author Nell Leyshon is a heartbreakingly haunting novel; a beautiful, gut-wrenching and unforgettable read that touches your heart with the simplicity of its words and its heroine. Mary begins her story with the words “this is my book and I am writing it by my own hand,” of significant importance since the previously illiterate farm girl has only recently learned to read and write. With her newfound knowledge and brutal honesty, Mary shares the truth of her tale of woe over the past year.
Beginning in 1830, spirited 14-year old Mary, born with a limp and hair the color of milk, and her three sisters – Beatrice, Violet and Hope – toil from sun up to sun down performing backbreaking work on their brutal father’s farm; bearing his anger and punishment whenever he’s dissatisfied. Determined to make the most of his useless daughter, her father hires Mary out to the local vicar to help with his ailing wife. Forced to leave the only world she’s known and her beloved grandfather, Mary finds her new surroundings foreign and unsettling, yet with her plain spoken ways and unguarded innocence she wins over the affection of her new employers, and goes on to realize her greatest dream, to learn to read and write, though that knowledge comes at a tragic price.
The Colour of Milk is a small book with all the weight and power of an epic saga. Tiny in both size and length, I read this mini-masterpiece in one sitting and cried for longer than it took me to read it. Written in the simple words of a child, each word shared without guile or artifice bears the truth of a life of hardship and struggle, where even dreams are a luxury you can’t afford. In its pages, we are charmed and enchanted by the most winsome of spirits; a child with fire, heart and wisdom beyond her years, whose hopeful spirit and optimism makes our journey with her that much more agonizing.
As gripping, emotional and riveting as Celie’s story from The Color Purple or Precious’ struggles in Push by Sapphire, Mary’s voice will resonate in your heart. You will love her, root for her and even at book’s end, with your broken heart at your feet, smile for this beautiful soul who’s lived her life by no one else’s rules and who finally finds triumph and freedom.
Like I said, the book is tiny, so there isn’t much more to add, other than to say read it. The Colour of Milk is a book whose name deserves to be shouted from the rafters. Yes, it is sad. You will cry. But its beauty is so worth the price of a few measly tears.
Beginning in 1830, spirited 14-year old Mary, born with a limp and hair the color of milk, and her three sisters – Beatrice, Violet and Hope – toil from sun up to sun down performing backbreaking work on their brutal father’s farm; bearing his anger and punishment whenever he’s dissatisfied. Determined to make the most of his useless daughter, her father hires Mary out to the local vicar to help with his ailing wife. Forced to leave the only world she’s known and her beloved grandfather, Mary finds her new surroundings foreign and unsettling, yet with her plain spoken ways and unguarded innocence she wins over the affection of her new employers, and goes on to realize her greatest dream, to learn to read and write, though that knowledge comes at a tragic price.
The Colour of Milk is a small book with all the weight and power of an epic saga. Tiny in both size and length, I read this mini-masterpiece in one sitting and cried for longer than it took me to read it. Written in the simple words of a child, each word shared without guile or artifice bears the truth of a life of hardship and struggle, where even dreams are a luxury you can’t afford. In its pages, we are charmed and enchanted by the most winsome of spirits; a child with fire, heart and wisdom beyond her years, whose hopeful spirit and optimism makes our journey with her that much more agonizing.
As gripping, emotional and riveting as Celie’s story from The Color Purple or Precious’ struggles in Push by Sapphire, Mary’s voice will resonate in your heart. You will love her, root for her and even at book’s end, with your broken heart at your feet, smile for this beautiful soul who’s lived her life by no one else’s rules and who finally finds triumph and freedom.
Like I said, the book is tiny, so there isn’t much more to add, other than to say read it. The Colour of Milk is a book whose name deserves to be shouted from the rafters. Yes, it is sad. You will cry. But its beauty is so worth the price of a few measly tears.
Monday, August 18, 2014
The Fever
The Fever by Megan Abbott sends us careening on an angst-filled trip back to high school as we're introduced to the Nash family in this disturbing drama. Deenie Nash is your typical teenage girl coping with divorced parents, boys, and the social dynamics of high school – the cliques, the caste system of popularity, and the stress of not knowing where you fall in that system on any given day. Eli Nash is a good looking hockey player and the proverbial girl magnet. While dad, Tom Nash is a chemistry teacher, still struggling to wrap his head around his wife leaving him, trying to raise two great kids on his own, as well as adjusting to lonely nights and being single.
Their relatively ordinary life is tossed into chaos though when Lise, one of Deenie’s friends, suffers a violent, terrifying and unexplained seizure in class that leaves her fighting for her life. Before long panic starts to spread among the Nash family, school, and community as the cause remains a mystery and more girls start to suffer attacks. With rumors swirling, the list of probable causes grows, everything from a virulent STD, to the HPV vaccine, to the effects of exposure to an eerie toxic lake with a lore all of its own, and as the paranoia grows secrets are revealed which threaten to destroy the families and friendships they touch.
Definitely not one of my favorite reads to date, The Fever was nonetheless an interesting and at times unsettling read. Narrated by the three main protagonists (Tom, Eli and Deenie), this short novel lags in the middle and falls short of delivering the promised chills and suspense central to the plot’s main mystery, yet through its characters the author does deliver a gripping and insightful look at teenage girls and their psyche– the flashes of anger and petty jealousies surrounding newfound passions and unrequited love, the power struggles on par with that of a small nation that take place in school halls, the frightening grip of those quintessential mean girls that rule over boys and girls alike, and the gut-wrenching insecurities which make the high school experience a nightmare for so many.
As for the tale’s mystery, Abbott throws countless red herrings in the reader’s path that unfortunately go nowhere and serve only to undermine the tale’s resolution with a final reveal that turns out to be rather watered-down, anti-climactic, and ho-hum. Though the kind of slow building or ratcheting up suspense that keeps you on the edge-of-your-seat never quite materializes, I will concede The Fever is infused with a dark, almost sinister tone throughout which sets the mood and piqued my interest enough to keep me reading. In addition to one or two compelling characters, Abbott also smartly conveys the ground swell of hysteria which seems to feed off itself during these type of events as parent’s let misinformation and panic prey on their fears and erase all rational thinking as more and more girls became ill.
I’d seen The Fever on so many summer must-read lists that I thought this would be a sure-fire hit; unfortunately for me, it didn’t live up to the hype. It never quite makes up its mind on what it wants to be - mystery or character-driven tale - and in so doing, doesn’t fully deliver on either front.
Their relatively ordinary life is tossed into chaos though when Lise, one of Deenie’s friends, suffers a violent, terrifying and unexplained seizure in class that leaves her fighting for her life. Before long panic starts to spread among the Nash family, school, and community as the cause remains a mystery and more girls start to suffer attacks. With rumors swirling, the list of probable causes grows, everything from a virulent STD, to the HPV vaccine, to the effects of exposure to an eerie toxic lake with a lore all of its own, and as the paranoia grows secrets are revealed which threaten to destroy the families and friendships they touch.
Definitely not one of my favorite reads to date, The Fever was nonetheless an interesting and at times unsettling read. Narrated by the three main protagonists (Tom, Eli and Deenie), this short novel lags in the middle and falls short of delivering the promised chills and suspense central to the plot’s main mystery, yet through its characters the author does deliver a gripping and insightful look at teenage girls and their psyche– the flashes of anger and petty jealousies surrounding newfound passions and unrequited love, the power struggles on par with that of a small nation that take place in school halls, the frightening grip of those quintessential mean girls that rule over boys and girls alike, and the gut-wrenching insecurities which make the high school experience a nightmare for so many.
As for the tale’s mystery, Abbott throws countless red herrings in the reader’s path that unfortunately go nowhere and serve only to undermine the tale’s resolution with a final reveal that turns out to be rather watered-down, anti-climactic, and ho-hum. Though the kind of slow building or ratcheting up suspense that keeps you on the edge-of-your-seat never quite materializes, I will concede The Fever is infused with a dark, almost sinister tone throughout which sets the mood and piqued my interest enough to keep me reading. In addition to one or two compelling characters, Abbott also smartly conveys the ground swell of hysteria which seems to feed off itself during these type of events as parent’s let misinformation and panic prey on their fears and erase all rational thinking as more and more girls became ill.
I’d seen The Fever on so many summer must-read lists that I thought this would be a sure-fire hit; unfortunately for me, it didn’t live up to the hype. It never quite makes up its mind on what it wants to be - mystery or character-driven tale - and in so doing, doesn’t fully deliver on either front.
Sunday, August 17, 2014
Like Father, Like Son
If you have a child, you know that you've loved him/her since the moment they were placed in your arms. Loved them so deeply and irrevocably, that you can't imagine life without them or life before them. You changed poopy diapers, caressed fevered brows, worried and stressed over the first day of school. Now imagine you're told that this child fully entrenched in your heart is not your child; there was a mix-up at the hospital and you've been caring for and loving a stranger's child. What would you do? Such is the agonizing dilemma facing two very different families in Like Father, Like Son, a Japanese film with English subtitles, winner of the Jury Prize at last year's Cannes Film Festival.
Ryota is a cold and distant businessman, an architect whose ambitions keep him long days and nights in the office and away from his family, while Midori is the stereotypical dutiful wife who cares and dotes on their only son, 6-year old Keita. After the couple is informed of the accidental baby switch six years earlier, the hospital representatives arrange a meeting with their biological child, Ryusei, and the parents that raised him. Unlike Ryota, Yudai (Ryusei's dad) is an appliance store shopkeeper, a big kid constantly tinkering with broken goods and his kid's toys, while mom Yukari is a waitress. Though lacking the fancy home, private schools and piano lessons to which Keita has been privileged, Ryusei has grown up loved, living in a warm and rambunctious home with two younger siblings.
As the families spend more time together, the fact hangs over their head that a swap must be made. Haunted and shaped by his own icy father-son relationship, Ryota struggles to make a decision; torn between the child he's loved for six years or the child, that like his father bitingly reminds him, carries his blood and will one day grow up to look like him. A compelling nature vs. nurture debate which keeps you on the edge of your seat as each family faces the heart-wrenching decision of chosing love or logic.
This was a beautiful, evocative and poignant film. Like Father, Like Son both tugs at your heartstrings and gives you chills as you reluctantly try to put yourself in the protagonist's shoes. A wonderful exploration of what it really means to be a father (or mother), which through the highlighted contrast between each family's means and wealth, also clearly and resoundingly reminds us of the fact that what matters most to a child's happiness is love; to be loved completely and unconditionally, not the trappings of wealth or lack thereof.
The performance by the actress portraying Midori was a standout for me; she's the only one whose heartbreak is palpably conveyed in the way she gazes at this child not of her womb that she's come to love. All three of the other adult protagonists portrayals, especially Ryota as the central character, were almost stoic in the face of this tragic course of events, at times coming across as cold and unfeeling, but I didn't let it color my view of the movie, because in truth their bearing seemed in keeping with my impression of a more reserved Asian society where emotions are kept tightly in check.
Like Father, Like Son is an affecting film straight out of any parent's nightmares. A film that will leave you thinking long after the credits roll.
Ryota is a cold and distant businessman, an architect whose ambitions keep him long days and nights in the office and away from his family, while Midori is the stereotypical dutiful wife who cares and dotes on their only son, 6-year old Keita. After the couple is informed of the accidental baby switch six years earlier, the hospital representatives arrange a meeting with their biological child, Ryusei, and the parents that raised him. Unlike Ryota, Yudai (Ryusei's dad) is an appliance store shopkeeper, a big kid constantly tinkering with broken goods and his kid's toys, while mom Yukari is a waitress. Though lacking the fancy home, private schools and piano lessons to which Keita has been privileged, Ryusei has grown up loved, living in a warm and rambunctious home with two younger siblings.
As the families spend more time together, the fact hangs over their head that a swap must be made. Haunted and shaped by his own icy father-son relationship, Ryota struggles to make a decision; torn between the child he's loved for six years or the child, that like his father bitingly reminds him, carries his blood and will one day grow up to look like him. A compelling nature vs. nurture debate which keeps you on the edge of your seat as each family faces the heart-wrenching decision of chosing love or logic.
This was a beautiful, evocative and poignant film. Like Father, Like Son both tugs at your heartstrings and gives you chills as you reluctantly try to put yourself in the protagonist's shoes. A wonderful exploration of what it really means to be a father (or mother), which through the highlighted contrast between each family's means and wealth, also clearly and resoundingly reminds us of the fact that what matters most to a child's happiness is love; to be loved completely and unconditionally, not the trappings of wealth or lack thereof.
The performance by the actress portraying Midori was a standout for me; she's the only one whose heartbreak is palpably conveyed in the way she gazes at this child not of her womb that she's come to love. All three of the other adult protagonists portrayals, especially Ryota as the central character, were almost stoic in the face of this tragic course of events, at times coming across as cold and unfeeling, but I didn't let it color my view of the movie, because in truth their bearing seemed in keeping with my impression of a more reserved Asian society where emotions are kept tightly in check.
Like Father, Like Son is an affecting film straight out of any parent's nightmares. A film that will leave you thinking long after the credits roll.
Friday, August 15, 2014
Landline
In Rainbow Rowell's latest novel, Landline, Georgie McCool adores her husband Neal and he her, but still their marriage has seen better days. "Things didn't go bad between Georgie and Neal. Things were always bad- and always good. Their marriage was like a set of scales constantly balancing itself. And then, at some point, when neither of them was paying attention, they'd tipped so far over into bad, they'd settled there." With Christmas just around the corner and plans set for Georgie, Neal and their two little ones, Alice and Noomi, to fly home to Omaha for the holidays, Georgie drops the bomb that she can't go. Georgie and her best friend and writing partner, Seth, have finally had their big break - a TV pilot and deal with their dream network - which requires a writing marathon of epic proportions. Sure that Neal will be upset, Georgie's a little disconcerted when he calmly agrees that she has to stay, but, he and the girls are going to Omaha anyway.
Georgie knows in her heart that he's got reason to be upset; Neal is the glue that holds the family together and as a stay-at-home dad he cooks, cleans, does laundry, and takes care of the girls. Not only that, but he's also accepted every one of her late nights at work and every time she's chosen work and her show over her family; so now with a silent house and her family thousands of miles away, Georgie's afraid she's finally done it and totally wrecked her marriage. Georgie's mom Liz seems pretty certain she's done just that and is determined to offer her support with home-cooked meals and sage advice; while her sister Heather is less than reassuring, quickly reminding Georgie that "Neal would totally get custody" if he did leave her - and Georgie knows "He totally would."
When Georgie keeps missing Neal at his mom's house, she starts to feel more than a little panic, but then while staying in her childhood room, which her mom has converted into a pug trophy room (more on Porky and Petunia later), Georgie decides to try him again, and with her cell phone dead as usual, she plugs in her old yellow rotary phone and dials to resounding success, only problem is it's Neal back in 1998, before they were even married. More than a little freaked out by the experience, Georgie considers a number of possible explanations for this interdimensional portal; "1. Persistent hallucination. 2. Really long dream. 3. Schizophrenic episode." or "10. Magical fucking phone." Having settled on number 10 as the most logical explanation, the options on what to do next were limited really; she could call a doctor and possibly end up institutionalized which could help in earning present day Neal's pity, pretend this never happened or maybe, just maybe, keep playing along. After all, this could all be some weird cosmic opportunity to actually save her marriage.
This was such a great book! Hilarious, touching, and insightful, Landline is filled from the first page to the last with great characters and great dialogue. Much like Rowell brilliantly delivered a beautiful and haunting story of first love in her best-selling novel Eleanor & Park, she's once again showcased her talent and witty humor in this honest, real and moving take on love and marriage, capturing all its joys and imperfections. A romantic caper that for all of our protagonists struggles and doubts is dotted throughout with their undeniable love.
The one thing you'll find as soon as you read a Rainbow Rowell novel, this being my second, is that she writes such amazing characters - they are real, human (aka flawed), and so relatable. Every character that's a part of Georgie's life adds a new dimension and texture to the story; from her pug-loving mom, currently on her third marriage to an African American man nearly 20 years her junior, to four-year old Noomi who thinks of herself as green kitty and meows through every conversation, to her sister Heather, who at 18 was a change-of-life-baby "meaning Georgie's mom had decided to change her life by sleeping with the chiropractor she worked for;" to Seth, her sarcastic and fashionable best-friend. Every character jumps off the page, even the ones in passing like the pizza delivery person or the non-human variety like Porky and Petunia, and make you wish you could call them friends.
Alternating between past and present, through flashbacks, we get to see the full span of Georgie and Neal's love and marriage; the ups - before life, work and kids got in the way - and the downs when every day seemed like a struggle, making us love them all the more. Rowell intersperses the countless chuckles and guffaws with simple reminders of the truth of marriage, "You don’t know when you’re twenty-three...You don't know what it really means to crawl into someone else's life and stay there. You can't see all the ways you're going to get tangled, how you're going to bond skin to skin. How the idea of separating will feel in five years, in ten - in fifteen. When Georgie thought about divorce now, she imagined lying side by side with Neal on two operating tables while a team of doctors tried to unthread their vascular systems." Absorbing the depths of feeling in that passage, a reader (especially one not married) can come a little closer to understanding what it really means to share someones life.
Landline offers loads of humor but also an almost poetic wisdom on love and marriage which belies the genre. With depth, heart, and a new cast of quirky and unforgettable characters, Landline reminds us that we have to earn our fairy tale love stories; we have to give a little more, try a little harder, and never take someone's love for granted.
Georgie knows in her heart that he's got reason to be upset; Neal is the glue that holds the family together and as a stay-at-home dad he cooks, cleans, does laundry, and takes care of the girls. Not only that, but he's also accepted every one of her late nights at work and every time she's chosen work and her show over her family; so now with a silent house and her family thousands of miles away, Georgie's afraid she's finally done it and totally wrecked her marriage. Georgie's mom Liz seems pretty certain she's done just that and is determined to offer her support with home-cooked meals and sage advice; while her sister Heather is less than reassuring, quickly reminding Georgie that "Neal would totally get custody" if he did leave her - and Georgie knows "He totally would."
When Georgie keeps missing Neal at his mom's house, she starts to feel more than a little panic, but then while staying in her childhood room, which her mom has converted into a pug trophy room (more on Porky and Petunia later), Georgie decides to try him again, and with her cell phone dead as usual, she plugs in her old yellow rotary phone and dials to resounding success, only problem is it's Neal back in 1998, before they were even married. More than a little freaked out by the experience, Georgie considers a number of possible explanations for this interdimensional portal; "1. Persistent hallucination. 2. Really long dream. 3. Schizophrenic episode." or "10. Magical fucking phone." Having settled on number 10 as the most logical explanation, the options on what to do next were limited really; she could call a doctor and possibly end up institutionalized which could help in earning present day Neal's pity, pretend this never happened or maybe, just maybe, keep playing along. After all, this could all be some weird cosmic opportunity to actually save her marriage.
This was such a great book! Hilarious, touching, and insightful, Landline is filled from the first page to the last with great characters and great dialogue. Much like Rowell brilliantly delivered a beautiful and haunting story of first love in her best-selling novel Eleanor & Park, she's once again showcased her talent and witty humor in this honest, real and moving take on love and marriage, capturing all its joys and imperfections. A romantic caper that for all of our protagonists struggles and doubts is dotted throughout with their undeniable love.
The one thing you'll find as soon as you read a Rainbow Rowell novel, this being my second, is that she writes such amazing characters - they are real, human (aka flawed), and so relatable. Every character that's a part of Georgie's life adds a new dimension and texture to the story; from her pug-loving mom, currently on her third marriage to an African American man nearly 20 years her junior, to four-year old Noomi who thinks of herself as green kitty and meows through every conversation, to her sister Heather, who at 18 was a change-of-life-baby "meaning Georgie's mom had decided to change her life by sleeping with the chiropractor she worked for;" to Seth, her sarcastic and fashionable best-friend. Every character jumps off the page, even the ones in passing like the pizza delivery person or the non-human variety like Porky and Petunia, and make you wish you could call them friends.
Alternating between past and present, through flashbacks, we get to see the full span of Georgie and Neal's love and marriage; the ups - before life, work and kids got in the way - and the downs when every day seemed like a struggle, making us love them all the more. Rowell intersperses the countless chuckles and guffaws with simple reminders of the truth of marriage, "You don’t know when you’re twenty-three...You don't know what it really means to crawl into someone else's life and stay there. You can't see all the ways you're going to get tangled, how you're going to bond skin to skin. How the idea of separating will feel in five years, in ten - in fifteen. When Georgie thought about divorce now, she imagined lying side by side with Neal on two operating tables while a team of doctors tried to unthread their vascular systems." Absorbing the depths of feeling in that passage, a reader (especially one not married) can come a little closer to understanding what it really means to share someones life.
Landline offers loads of humor but also an almost poetic wisdom on love and marriage which belies the genre. With depth, heart, and a new cast of quirky and unforgettable characters, Landline reminds us that we have to earn our fairy tale love stories; we have to give a little more, try a little harder, and never take someone's love for granted.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)





