A taut, groundbreaking new novel from bestselling and award-winning author Elizabeth McCracken about a writer’s relationship with her larger-than-life mother — and about the very nature of writing, memory, and art.
Our narrator takes us on a journey that leaves you wondering about the writer’s mental stability. We go to London, and sometimes we are in the writer’s memories, then we are in the present. There isn’t any reason to think your chaotic thinking is your fault; it’s not, we are wandering around the mind of an intelligent woman. Every now and then, the chaotic nature of the story makes sense, then again, reality hits you, and you’re back in London with the writer’s mother. Secrets are shared, but should they have been told?
I found it strange the denial of her mother’s death, and at times, it turned into a mish-mash of ideas. I have no doubt that author Elizabeth McCracken is a talented writer, but her writing style doesn’t go very well with my armchair and cushion. She has great insight into the reality of death, grief, and memories, but I must confess her writing became repetitious, and I like my reading straightforward.
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