I picked this book up because I read a good review of it awhile back. I can't remember which publication the review was from - but I was expecting something a bit esoteric, along the lines of The History of Love (perhaps it is just because of the similar title). The prologue kept me fooled - very cryptic, written in the first person about a pregnant woman who seems quite unsure of herself, her past, and her future. But, once it jumped into the regular story, I realized it was basically a more highly evolved form of chick lit. The narrator is 29-year old Emily. She has just broken up with her boyfriend (which everyone tells her is the biggest mistake of her life). She is an attorney at a high-powered Manhattan firm and has been assigned to a toxic torts Erin Brokovich case working for a misogynist partner. Her mother died when she was 14, her father is too important to make a real effort at communication, and her grandfather - the only person she seems to truly love - appears to be on the brink of Alzheimer's. In short, Emily's got issues. At times, the book ventures into the frivolous (and some of the law firm interactions are truly beyond the pale) - she has druken escapades with her girlfriends and seems incapable of having an adult comversation about anything meaninful. But then, Emily will reveal her deeper more insightful self. She develops a charming relationship with an elderly female friend of her grandfather's and her connection with her grandfather is touching and genuine (and it is by no random chance that Emily attends a book club to discuss Bridget Jones's Diary). I wouldn't quite put this in the category of high-brow literature, but for a portrayal of the confusion of being a professional woman in her late 20's, this one isn't that far off the mark.* 100th book I've read this year!
No comments:
Post a Comment