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My Thanksgiving theme read was terrific. The character development was very interesting, done differently than I'm used to, as each "chapter" is another insight into that character. Some of the topics explored were obvious and some were subtle, which made me think this would be a good book club book. Anyone who has ever been part of a family that had a holiday dinner will easily identify with the dynamics. My favorite line, "As the bowls and platters commenced their orbit around the table, the clank of cutlery filled the room", I think sums up Thanksgiving dinner as well as anything I've read or heard before. ( )
I received this advance copy on Friday and finished reading it on Saturday. Talk about your family gatherings with some drama - this is one that takes it a step further than bickering between siblings. Not only the story, but the characters were what kept me so interested : they are us, me, our families, brothers, sisters, husbands, wives, with their successes, failures and secrets. Anyone who wants to read about a contemporary family will enjoy this and finish it with many things to think about. ( )
The Olson clan gathers at daughter Ginny's house for Thanksgiving dinner and to meet her new adopted daughter Priya. The story progresses through the day but also includes the backstory and thoughts of all the adult members of the family. All along the story hints that something bad is goign to happen but when it happened I found I was more interested in the previous parts of the book recounting the characters lives than I was in the tragic event. ( )
Informação do Conhecimento Comum em inglês.Edite para a localizar na sua língua.
In memory of Jim Higgins (1973-2009)
Primeiras palavras
Informação do Conhecimento Comum em inglês.Edite para a localizar na sua língua.
They had been happy people, thought Eleanor.
Citações
Informação do Conhecimento Comum em inglês.Edite para a localizar na sua língua.
It was lose-lose with primitive cultures—they got you for being a virgin or for being a whore.
His sister's social conscience was a gland that never stopped salivating.
In the taxi to Ginny's apartment, Priya's excited breaths left an oval of steam on the window as she gaped at Manhattan, the gleam of towering glass and metal, sharp and spiky, like a forest of cutlery.
The refrigerator light caught Priya like a paparazzi flashbulb.
After dinner, Ginny bathed her, working the wet washcloth over her spine, the sharp ridges ancient and fishlike.
Ginny drew Priya to her stomach, tucking her under one flap of her cardigan as though shielding her from judgment.
But she couldn't get to anger because grief was in her way.
Through the dark windows lay the towns where all the men seated around him would soon carry their briefcases down silent streets, wipe the bottoms of their polished shoes on a WELCOME mat, greet their aproned wives, kiss their children, and have a conversation about the weather, the grocery bill, new kitchen cabinets.
From time to time these ghosts, these younger, other selves, tiptoed down from the attic, rattled the windows while he slept.
And she recognized the need to convince everyone else you were wonderfully happy, because if others believed it, you might, too.
Eleanor would never harm her children; she would do anything to protect her daughter.
"There should be a way to order pizza and have it delivered to your car when you're stuck in traffic. Maybe a helicopter that drops pizza on parachutes. Like those food parcels in Africa. Now, there's a business idea."
She could not, for the life of her, understand women who worried about quitting their jobs to raise children. Were they retiring from NASA? Were they throwing in the towel midway through mapping the human genome?
Anyone who thought work was a way to create meaning in life had never been poor.
In each room, the strain of their lives could be seen in the frayed and splintered furniture, in the worried look on her mother's face as she set dinner on the table and mentally calculated how much money was about to be devoured.
As the mother of two children, she understood well the parental obligation, the time-tested maternal mandate, to occasionally make shit up.
Men didn't have heroes, they studied heroes, as though greatness and masculinity could be transmitted through reading, as though knowing the lyrics to every Mick Jagger song or the names of the E. Street Band members got them one step closer to playing Madison Square Garden.
That seemed the gift of family: they knew your mistakes and held none against you.
Últimas palavras
Informação do Conhecimento Comum em inglês.Edite para a localizar na sua língua.
Together, now, they slid forward in their seats, remembering, regretting, awaiting the return of hope.
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The character development was very interesting, done differently than I'm used to, as each "chapter" is another insight into that character.
Some of the topics explored were obvious and some were subtle, which made me think this would be a good book club book.
Anyone who has ever been part of a family that had a holiday dinner will easily identify with the dynamics.
My favorite line, "As the bowls and platters commenced their orbit around the table, the clank of cutlery filled the room", I think sums up Thanksgiving dinner as well as anything I've read or heard before. (