Terrible, trite, undeveloped, meandering, not worthy of a review.
I felt like I was viewing the characters, Kathryn, Starling, and Luke (three childhood friends who grow up to be adult friends) from afar. There is little dialogue and few descriptions of actual individual events. Lippincott describes summers and school days and parties and meetings, and skips entire years and decades. Big topics, including homosexuality, race relations, WWII, the atom bomb, etc., are touched upon, but do nothing to unify the story or create coherence. The writing was inaccessible, as if Lippincott wanted to prove that, by golly, she is a poet, but the book fails on nearly every level.
A sample of the horror:
"And so the three friends flourished and floundered, floundered and flourished, as the seconds and the minutes and the hours and the days, the weeks and the months and the years, piled up and eventually collapsed and got buried under the sheer accumulation of time."
"And so the years passed, they just swung by, accompanied by and inviolately intertwined with music, and music was nothing but a freight train, a large barge barreling down this track or that river with its incessant and inexorable and indefatigable rhythm, leading our fearless threesome on, pulling them along body and soul..."
"And so the years, like wheels, rolled blithely by, and summertime always came around again-- Katie, Luke and Star had, by now, all three of them, lived long enough to know and feel certain that hey at the very least could count on one thing: and so began the inevitable slow, sly glance toward the future."
"And so the school year passed, and much precious and valuable time was unconsciously and unintentionally wasted."