Wedding in Great Neck offers the pleasure of reading about a happy family. By that I don’t mean there aren’t plenty of conflicts, and secret agendas, and trouble for McDonough’s characters to create, and get into. But there is the Shakespearean notion that “All’s Well That Ends Well,” as McDonough, holds her invented world in her lovingly cupped hands. This family feels real, as they act out problems that typical families experience, rather than the dark dysfunction and abuse that is the focus of so much written today. McDonough believes in the redemption and necessity of family, not as something that we are condemned to, but as challenging our ability to grow and mature as individuals. And to that end, McDonough's characters are tested. How does a family get threatened, reconfigure itself, and reunite — is the overarching theme (and pleasure) to be found here. Think Downton Abbey. Why are we so satisfied with its story? It’s because, no matter what happens, the family, and in many respects the world the family co-creates, perseveres. They are committed to each other. Also we care about these characters, much as we care about the characters in Wedding in Great Neck. The many narrative voices in Wedding, male and female, young and old, are knitted together over one day, to create the expensive, fairy tale wedding for the beautiful, accomplished, favorite child. There is the appearance of perfection, with all the wonderfully described details contributing, like puzzle pieces, to keep that perfection intact. Meanwhile, everything is being threatened by the tensions roiling beneath—a classic set-up, as well as the fundamental drama driving the book forward. Will the family manage to break through to make appearance and reality congruent is the question that hangs over the “happy” event. How this unfolds is the experience offered. This is a swift read, although you’ll want to savor it. I recommend curling up with this book and allowing yourself to escape into this wedding confection, whose complex needs remind of us of our own family’s, in this vividly imagined world.