I am rarely at a loss for words, but this novel has rendered me so.
I started this review, then stopped it. Deleted everything I wrote. Started it again, stopped it, then walked three miles and thought of three different ways I wanted to approach it, then came home, reread the last couple of pages of the novel and stared at the wall.
Sometimes a book is so meaningful to me, I find it difficult to encapsulate my experience of it.
Also, if I'm being honest, I'm feeling protective of this story. I want others to know how excellent it is, but I also know that it is a story that could be so easily misunderstood.
I find that white, affluent women in literature aren't always received well. Examples that spring to my mind without barely thinking about it: Gustave Flaubert's Emma Bovary, Kate Chopin's Edna Pontellier, and Larry McMurtry's Patsy Carpenter.
I think, sometimes, that these characters are too often marginalized and dismissed, as though being white and affluent is some sort of lifelong shield that is meant to protect these women from toxic parents, abusive spouses, public scrutiny, fears and grief.
Well, remember the saying: “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about.”
Yes, Polly Solo-Miller Demarest (our heroine here) is white and affluent. She also has a gorgeous, successful husband, two beautiful, healthy children, an excellent job, a high-rise apartment (with a doorman and an elevator man), and a summer house in Maine.
She's the kind of friend you'd have on Facebook who would probably make your stomach turn, from time to time, so much so, you might end up unfriending her.
That is. . . if she had any friends, on Facebook (or anywhere else), but Polly doesn't have friends; she has family. A wealthy, demanding, toxic family.
Polly has made every one of her life's decisions based on this family's requirements: where she went to school, what she chose as a career, whom she married, when she had children, and how she spends her time.
She felt a stranger to her own life, an outsider to the things she had created, and an outcast from her own heart.
And, then, one day, Polly decides to do something very different, and a little naughty. . . . and, it turns out, Her real nature, without restraint, would get her into terrible trouble.
I don't know how well this novel would resonate with male readers, and I'm also unsure of its reception among young adults, especially ones who have lived non-traditional lives, but this story, that explores traditional roles, parental expectations, marriage, religion, identity, and love, struck a strong chord in me.
We can all suffer, and we can all thrive, regardless of our circumstances, and, as far as I'm concerned, any story written as well as this one deserves to be told.