When Julia was eight, she was asked to be a bridesmaid at her beautiful cousin Iris’s wedding. Her mother saw this as a chore – expensive, inconvenient – but Julia was thrilled. When the time came, even the fact that her bridesmaid’s dress didn’t fit, and was plain cream rather than the pink she’d hoped for, couldn’t ruin the day. But after this, things began to go wrong for Julia, starting with an episode involving her cousin’s baby, a pram and a secret trip round the block.
A lifetime later, Julia is a child psychologist who every day deals with young girls said to be behaving badly. Some are stealing, some are running away from home, some are terribly untidy, some won’t eat or get out of bed. Julia has a special knack with these girls. She understands which really are troubled, and which are at the mercy of the way they are seen by the adults around them.
But one day, Julia’s own troubled past starts to creep into her present. And as she struggles to understand her childhood self, she must confront the possibility that the truth may not be as devastating as she feared.
Margaret Forster was educated at the Carlisle and County High School for Girls. From here she won an Open Scholarship to Somerville College, Oxford where in 1960 she was awarded an honours degree in History.
From 1963 Margaret Forster worked as a novelist, biographer and freelance literary critic, contributing regularly to book programmes on television, to Radio 4 and various newpapers and magazines.
Forster was married to the writer, journalist and broadcaster Hunter Davies. They lived in London. and in the Lake District. They had three children, Caitlin, Jake and Flora.
I have no idea why this book is called what is it. Yes, the main character was a bridesmaid, but she was never unknown and not once was she referred to being unknown.
I also didn't get the point of the storyline. I couldn't find any meaning to it.
I feel I missed something completely in this book.
Sigmund Freud's daughter, Anna, (also a psychoanalyst), stated, "The most sophisticated defense mechanism I ever encountered was becoming a psychotherapist."
It is a common belief among those of us in psychiatry (I am a pediatric psychiatric RN) that psychologists/psychiatrists/therapists pursue this profession in order to overcome their own problems. Many suffered great loss or were marginalized as children, and thus developed a desire to help other emotionally damaged individuals. This is not unlike Forster’s protagonist, Julia, a child psychologist. Julia’s father died when she was five, and her mother, although present, was emotionally unavailable at best. “Best not to ask anything” was her mother’s mantra, so Julia learned to cope as a child via isolation and obedience. Later, when negative emotions overwhelmed her, she reacted with secret transgressions, and one innocent rebellion that caused her life-long guilt. At 48, after seeing a photograph of herself as an eight-year-old bridesmaid, Julia suffered the worst kind of cognitive dissonance. This bridesmaid was a stranger to her now, and unknown bridesmaid.
As a psychologist, Julia assesses troubled young girls. The sulky and truculent clients don’t vex Julia; she sympathizes with them, and has valuable insight into their problems. “Everything, in every person’s life, led back to childhood, a truism which she’d found could not be stressed enough.” Like herself, many of the girls were injured by a callous mother, and Julia recognizes this. Despite Julia’s crimes and misdemeanors, her hardened heart is merciful, softer in the center. She’s dismal and damaged herself, but intriguing and complicated.
The novel alternates back and forth between Julia’s failed childhood and her successful adult years, with an ineluctable collision and confrontation of both. Foster’s tightly restrained prose gradually peels away Julia’s protective barriers and her barely controlled panic. Underscoring this is a sense of dread. My only complaint is that the frisson of excitement I felt throughout the narrative, anticipating an electric denouement, fizzled a bit at the end. It was anti-climactic and bland, a platitude unworthy of this author, who had already shown us the goods, so she didn’t need to explain them.
“There had always been in her this meanness which every now and again got out of control.”
Ignore the sweet-looking hints of the cover. The Unknown Bridesmaid by Margaret Forster is the story of Julia, a strangely disaffected child who becomes a successful child psychologist. It’s Julia’s job to explore the hidden corners of culpability in her patients’ anti-social, self-destructive and sometimes deviant behaviour, and yet this is the very thing that Julia sidesteps so neatly in her own past and present. The Unknown Bridesmaid, the twenty-sixth novel from the author, is subtle and intelligent, but far more than that, this is a dark tale of self-deception and motivation in which the murky impulses of the main character lurk just beneath the surface of her actions.
Julia is just eight years old when she’s invited back to Manchester to be a bridesmaid for her cousin Iris. Julia’s mother is surprised by the invitation as she and her sister Maureen aren’t close. Even Julia recognizes that “her mother and her aunt were engaged in some sort of complicated battle,” and there’s the sense that Maureen’s life took a turn for the better while Julia’s mother’s did not. We’re given an impression of Julia’s mother, and it isn’t pleasant:
Julia’s mother did not immediately accept the invitation for Julia to be a bridesmaid; she waited three days, and then she rang her sister up, saying she doubted whether Julia could accept because of the expense involved. There would be the dress, the shoes, the flowers, and she had no money to spare for any of those things. She reminded her sister that she was a widow on a small, a very small, pension. Her sister was furious, but she tried to keep the anger at Julia’s mother boasting of her poverty (which is how she regarded it) out of her voice. She reminded herself that her sister had had a hard time, and was indeed quite poor, whereas she herself was comparatively well off, and ought to be magnanimous. She said her sister was not to worry about the expense. She said that of course she would pay for Julia’s outfit and everything that went with it. She had always intended to and should have made this clear. If Julia’s measurements were sent, a dress would be made and shoes bought.
Julia as a bridesmaid is not the main gist of the story, but it is a pivotal event in which we see Julia for the first time. She’s an odd child. If we want to be kind we’d call her ‘quiet,’ and if we dislike Julia, we’d call her ‘sneaky.’ It’s at Iris’s wedding that we first grasp the idea that Julia has a certain emotional disconnect from the people around her. Iris is a wonderful young woman, warm, kind, loving and much-loved, and joyful, yet Julia, much like her own dreary, joyless mother, holds back, and “sees how everyone was in thrall to her cousin.”
The wedding is just the first event in a chain of tragedy that binds Julia to her relatives in Manchester. Financial circumstances and a dark secret involving Julia’s father bring Julia and her mother back to Manchester to live, and so the lives of the two sets of relatives twine together initially through the wedding and then through death. A horrible incident occurs involving Julia, and she may or may not be responsible.
She was the one who had always, as a child, wanted to ask questions but had been trained not to. She liked being asked them, too, or thought she did until the questions became tricky and she began to worry about what her answers were revealing, to herself, as much as to the questioner.
Julia shoves aside her involvement and the hint of guilt and plunges ahead into a childhood and adolescence full of emotionally disconnected acts of casual cruelty towards the other people in her life. As she grows into her teens, the acts becomes increasingly more serious and focused….
The Unknown Bridesmaid maintains a quietly restrained narrative tone while exploring how a close-knit group of people deal with a young girl who’s emotionally disturbed. As the narrative goes back and forth in time between the past and the present, there’s a fine film over all these events which covers & obscures Julia’s culpability and intentions. Julia’s childhood of increasingly abhorrent acts is spliced with her present as she counsels children with various emotional and behavioral problems. As a psychologist, Julia recognizes that “it was tempting to confuse a child’s evasion of the truth with a calculated piece of lying.” She’s good at uncovering the motivations behind various children’s destructive actions, and while this talent may spring from her own emotionally difficult past, the clarity Julia shows with her patients stops there. Her insight is towards others–not herself.
The Unknown Bridesmaid, primarily a character study, is a stunning novel, and perhaps part of my admiration for the book comes in no small part to the fact that it plays into one of my pet theories: those of us who give the most to strangers, give nothing to our families and those we are supposed to love. It’s a version of Mrs Jellyby’s telescopic philanthropy. Structured differently, let’s say chronologically, the plot would not contain as much mystery, but the plot goes back and forth with the past and the present, so we see Julia as a damaged child and later as a well-functioning adult. But as Julia’s present unfolds we begin to question just how well-functioning she really is. As for Julia’s past, how should we judge the intentions of children when they don’t understand their own impulses? Julia very much remains an enigma to herself and her relatives, especially Elsa, a girl who once adored Julia and yet found herself the target of Julia’s malicious spite. Julia also remains a mystery to the reader–partly due to the novel’s clever structure and brilliant characterizations, but also due to the novel’s wonderful ending which while deliberately anticlimactic brings only deeper questions involving the elusiveness of the truth and multiple versions of events.
Often, a title illuminates a book and that’s certainly true here. Julia, the central character of The Unknown Bridesmaid is, indeed unknown: to her family, to us readers, and most of all, to herself.
When we first meet her, Julia is invited to be a young bridesmaid at her beautiful cousin Iris’s wedding. Quickly, we see her in midlife; Julia has grown to become a therapist (and eventually, a magistrate) who is responsible for evaluating girls. We meet these girls, one after another, each troubled, each on the precipice of veering off in the wrong direction in life. Yet, as we soon discover, each of these girls provides a mirror-of-sorts to Julia herself. “She could have been any one of a number of women who had appeared before the bench she sat upon.”
We learn that Julia has been the catalyst through which bad things have happened to Iris and her family. But questions arise: is Julia simply beating herself up or does she truly deserve blame? Is she the victim or is she the resentful perpetrator who is consumed by envy and resentment? Is she a trustworthy narrator or is she the ultimate unreliable narrator? In short, what can we believe about Julia?
An expert in lies, Julia reflects, “There would always be some twist, some wild piece of invention, which she hadn’t thought of.” But again, are the lies a result of self-protection or is Julia a borderline personality? With every turn, with every chapter, we gain intimate glimpses of Julia, yet we’re never entirely sure whether any of these glimpses are true.
For readers who demand closure, they won’t find it in this book. The very point of the book is that Julia is unknown, and Margaret Forster keeps us mesmerized and on edge, right to the last sentence. We might never know Julia, but she will be very hard to forget. High 4-star.
I managed to devour all 234 pages of Margaret Forster's The Unknown Bridesmaid at one go...so riveting was her story and told as always in a crisp, straightforward style, that stays refreshing, precious and memorable to the senses.
Also, the beautiful part to a classic Forster novel is in taking comfort that not all family relationships are perfect, that they are more likely to be sadly mutilated, damaged and definitely frayed at some point, at the edges. The solution would lie in survival; the art of plodding through everyday motions with cautious ferocity and grim fortitude. In fact, the novelist goes to great pains to exhibit that noisy or colourful clamour in a home may be regarded as anything but cosy. There may just be one skeleton too many locked in a closet, to be revealed a little at a time and that superficial pretensions to social relationships and the fragile threads that hold unlikely people together - whether they be tiresome family aunts or misunderstood friends - may actually prove to be more of a necessary evil, when measured in the bigger scheme of things.
In The Unknown Bridesmaid, Forster sketches a profound childhood story of a successful 48-year old child psychologist, Julia whose job it is to counsel troubled children with expert ease. The children that are summoned at different times to Julia's side all open painful, little windows that gently reveal the lack of real understanding that adults - especially those caught in difficult aspects of a crisis - often appear to have over their own children, already laden with complicated temperaments. Mothers often appear to be brittle in tone, are easily reproachful and many a-time, a confused lot.
But Julia's story is itself not perfect. Without giving anything away and through various episodes, Julia harbours a strange guilt and fear that may be held similar to those of the children she so kindly talks to. As a reader, I found Julia's childhood character hardly endearing. This, deliberately made so by Forster. But Julia wrestles well with her demons and becomes extremely likeable in adulthood as Forster takes us on Julia's clandestine journey of loneliness and detachment. As the story progresses, there is a clear touch of inspiration. Like building blocks, the exposition scenes where the past interjects with the present, all fit neatly...one into the other.
I particularly liked the major scenes that depicted the volatile relationship between Julia's middle-aged mother and the girl's aunt. The earlier hostility and grumblings that are tossed back and forth between the two grudging sisters, would later translate through unexpected family troubles, into a rough kindness, a series of comforting dialogues and the confirmation of a faithful kinship. The Unknown Bridesmaid is a perfect novel for any reader who appreciates complete honesty in family relationships.
I will begin by admitting that I have my share of regrets in the past. As this novel beautifully illustrates, this does not necessarily mean I am a less "ideal" person and/or that I have, per se, more things that I should feel guilt for. An overanalyzer as well as someone who fails to let go of things in all areas of life, I find myself simmering in regret, remorse, guilt, sometimes for things I logically see are not worthy; often not even of my doing.
Julia is like me in this regard. Yes, she has indeed done some very negative things as a young girl; some maybe almost unforgivable. Definitely things that will never be erased for the ones she hurt the most. Her father having died while she was quite young, her mother having always not exactly showing love for her only daughter, then dying only a few years later, Julia was sent to Cousin Iris & her husband Carlo for most of her adolescence. Her "regrets" relating directly to Iris had already started by then, the first of which was tipping a pram carrying Iris's son who later died for unrelated reasons. Her list of regrets only continued, the longer she lived with Iris. Iris has two daughters, Frances, then Elsa. Elsa favors Julia immediately, clinging to her, monopolizing her time, eventually causing a rift between the two sisters that becomes a hostile relationship. The more Iris does for her, the more she feels guilty for wrongs in the past; the more she hates feeling guilty, the more she feels the obligation to be appreciative; the more she realizes this logical necessity to feel appreciative given the situation, the more she hates Iris for causing it. And the more she feels this way, the more she finds herself doing regrettable things (to Iris as well as her family members) that, obviously, deepen the fathomless cave of guilt Julia lives with.
As an adult, she has unconsciously (maybe consciously) tried to redeem herself by becoming a magistrate, enlightening a path to something better for other young girls that are in similar situations to the one she was in. But as we see, this has only distracted her from the truth. The truth that she has to face directly, by confessing to Iris herself, in person. Until she does this, she will not begin to really let herself continue living without these burdens she cannot even admit to herself to carrying.
Forster tells this story with talent, showing rather than telling, this level of complex psychology. Relatable, layered, well written.
This is a wonderful book about how a child experiences growing up in a family where the mother is emotionally unavailable and the father is absent but the child doesn't understand why. It's really about the possible results of childhood deprivation. The tone is strangely calm but there's an undercurrent of fear, and the Julia, the child, is also the character who has become a child psychologist who tries to help young girls who are dealing with stressful lives. The chapters of Julia the child are interspersed with stories about the girls she works with. Often there are echoes in her childhood story and the stories and emotions her patients are dealing with. It's all done very subtly and I found the book very moving. I've read few books that seem as starkly honest and haunting about a troubled childhood as this one does. And it's nothing melodramatic; it seems almost commonplace in its description of what children endure, and how often they are left to figure out for themselves the strange things that happen, and the answers to questions that no one will answer honestly. It's definitely a book worth reading.
The Unknown Bridesmaid is Margaret Forster’s 26th novel, the most famous of which is Georgy Girl (1965). I’ve read seven of these, and enjoyed them all, so I pounced when I saw this one at the library, even though I have two of hers on the TBR, including her award-winning biography of Daphne du Maurier. Well, strike while the iron is hot, eh?
It’s an intense, claustrophobic novel, centred on Julia, the unknown bridesmaid of the title when she was a little girl, and a child psychologist now. Brought up by her strict, embittered single mother and excluded from matters deemed not suitable for children, she has a childhood full of guilt and anxiety. The wedding at which she was bridesmaid was a brief moment of colour and sunshine in a grey and gloomy life, and it is after that wedding that things that are not really her fault start to go badly wrong.
Julia’s story (told in the third person but always from her point-of-view) is interspersed with vignettes from her work with disturbed children. With some of these children, the problem is really the mother, not the child. There are a couple of distant or vague fathers, but it is mostly the mothers. Mothers with unrealistic expectations, mothers with no respect for a girl’s need for privacy, mothers demanding gratitude, mothers who want their children to be what they are not. Mothers withholding intimacy. Unloving mothers. And this is the problem with the other children too, except that their behaviours have escalated into criminal behaviours like shoplifting or violence against other children.
As the novel progresses, the calm, reasonable, empathetic child psychologist is revealed not only as a wary, guilt-ridden child herself, but also as quite malevolent.
The Unknown Bridesmaid is the newest novel from prolific author Margaret Forster. Its premise is intriguing and rather mysterious: ‘Julia was the only person who knew what happened that day. But she didn’t tell the police. And then it was too late. Now, years later, her secret looms large. Is it really too late? And if she does tell, can she bear the consequences?’
The novel begins in the present day, in which Julia works as a child psychologist, and goes back in time to her own childhood. In the first pivotal event, she is asked to be a bridesmaid for her cousin Iris, who is marrying a man named Reginald in Manchester. Soon afterwards, Reginald is killed in what is thought to be an IRA attack. Despite her grief, Iris soon gets back on track, finding that she is pregnant with his son, who is known from his birth as Reggie. Throughout, Julia’s own story is far more interesting than those fragments which we learn about the girls whom she counsels. Her family dynamic is interestingly portrayed, and the psychological aspect of the book has been well done too. The novel certainly gains power as it goes on.
Forster writes well throughout, and her prose is successful at building up tension as the novel builds. The Unknown Bridesmaid does feel like rather a quick read, but this may be solely due to the rather large font within the paperback edition of the book, and its uncomplicated writing. It is more focused upon its characters than its settings and scenes, so there is little beauty but much intrigue created. Forster captures both the childish naivety and wisdom of her young characters – and there are many of them – well. It is interesting to see everything from the perspective of a girl who is still firmly rooted within her childhood, and it allows the reader to piece together the incidents which we believe may have occurred to lead Julia and her family to certain points in their lives.
The third person perspective has been used to good effect in recounting Julia’s story, but it does have a tendency to detach the reader from the story, and renders us more as a casual observer than a confidante who is intrinsically linked to Julia, or to Forster’s other characters. Julia is not a likeable protagonist, but there is something rather compelling and horribly believable about her. Through her, Forster demonstrates quite clearly how one single moment can impact upon one’s life forever. Whilst the majority of the plot is satisfying enough, the ending feels both flat and rushed, which is a real shame. Still, as far as psychological novels go, The Unknown Bridesmaid certainly deserves to be read by a wide audience.
This is one of those intriguing novels that change before your very eyes, starting brightly on the surface before plunging into moral depths that will keep you thinking long after you have closed the last page. I won't say it is a case of the unreliable narrator, for it is told in the third person, and everything we learn about the protagonist, Julia, is true, even though she may lie to others. But it is most certainly a situation where you gradually discover that you have not known the character at all.
It starts in two time-frames, roughly forty years apart. Adult Julia is a child psychologist specializing in young girls with behavioral problems, and we immediately see that she is very good at it, firm when she needs to be, but surprisingly understanding in cases that need little more than a mediator between parent and child. Child Julia, living with her widowed mother in the north of England, is to be a bridesmaid at the wedding of her cousin Iris in Manchester. But the two mothers, sisters, do not get along, so the experience is shadowed by family tensions. Eventually, Julia and her mother move to Manchester, for reasons that are not explained to the little girl, and Julia will spend most of her school years in close proximity to her aunt and uncle, her cousin Iris, and the latter's growing family.
At first, Forster switches fairly rapidly between the two periods. Julia's development as a child nonetheless forms a continuing thread, whereas the descriptions of her various cases occur in short vignettes. I found myself wanting more of these, enjoying Julia's remarkable insights and eager to follow through further on the outcomes. At about this time, I began to notice that these cases each paralleled some similar temptation or misdemeanor in Julia's childhood, and wondered if Forster was not being a little too obvious in her construction. But then some of the temptations are not resisted, and the misdemeanors become rather more serious. What had seemed a normal childhood with a few ups and downs now begins to seem a deeply troubled one....
The adult Julia is appointed a magistrate, one of those lay judges that sit in panels on lower courts in Britain. I could not help thinking of Ian McEwan's novel The Children Act, written at around the same time, which shows how the decisions of a female judge in Children's Court are affected by what is going on in her private life. Margaret Forster's book is similar, except that Julia's decisions remain as judicious as ever, and it is her earlier life that comes into question, not her present one. I find this even more fascinating. As the young Julia grows older and the two time periods converge, we look for some epiphany, some conversion moment that will explain how this increasingly mean little girl turned into the compassionate Solomon. The longer we wait, the more we are forced to realize that professional wisdom and personal goodness need not go hand in hand, and indeed that a bad person can still perform good acts. What is so amazing is that even as we like Julia less and less, even as an adult now, we become more and more mesmerized by her. The reviewer in The Independent had it absolutely right in the quotation printed on the back of this astonishing book: "The stringent control with which Forster denies absolution is remarkable and, while disturbing, believable. That Julia remains unknown to all, not least to herself, is fascinating." I could not put it better.
The book opens with an invitation to a wedding, not just any old invitation, but Julia is to be bridesmaid and although it is her cousin Iris's wedding the whole idea is treated as an inconvenience and burden by Julia's mother. The only child of a widow, Julia is kept in the dark about everything; she is not allowed to ask questions or even decide what to eat or what to wear. This secrecy becomes Julia's watchword and eventual way of life.
Julia is a mean-spirited, joyless child growing into a mean-spirited, joyless woman who harbours a terrible secret from her childhood. This secret doesn't seem to worry her, she just lives with it, sneaking and snooping her way through life. She eventually becomes a child psychologist and the book is sprinkled with some of her cases - none of which is ever resolved, so these passages seemed rather pointless. Obviously the author is attempting to draw comparisons between these "problem" children and Julia, but it's a heavy-handed way of doing so which, for me, doesn't work.
I have long been a fan of Margaret Forster but I really disliked this novel for several reasons: the writing is clunky and awkward. Take this example:
"So Julia reckoned she would have had to have been accused of, in some way, casting Carlo in a bad light, without Carlo being responsible for whatever was alleged to have happened"
There are also many instances of unnecessary details which feel like padding : " She made tea, and took a slice of bread from the bread bin and popped it in the toaster". Why not just say "She made tea and toast"? This is just one example - there are too many to quote
The narrative hops back and forth between Julia's childhood (told from her perspective) to her adult life, told in the third person, but occasionally I found this a little confusing at times, not knowing whether the Julia I was reading about was the child, the teenager, or the adult until I'd read a couple of sentences.
Julia enjoys inflicting cruelty and meanness on other people, but there is no explanation as to why she behaves this way, which I found unsatisfactory. There are times when a malevolent character can be edgy and enjoyable in a book, but not this time as, eventually, Julia just became so boring, I was hoping something horrible would happen to her.
I was tempted, about two thirds of the way in, to just give up, but kept going in the hope that the old Forster style would surface; sadly it didn't. Having read most of this author's previous novels, I had to say that this, for me, is so disappointing - had it been the first one I had ever read I wouldn't want to read any of her others, so I would suggest that readers new to Margaret Forster read some of her earlier work - they're so much better than this.
I'm a big fan of Margaret Forster; she manages to write eloquently on a number of different subjects, this means that some topics will be more of interest than others. In The Unknown Bridesmaid the story revolves around a child psychologist, Julia which I found immensely readable.
The story is written from Julia's perspective both in the present day revolving around her caseload of troubled young girls and her past; starting from the time she was asked to be a bridesmaid for her cousin Iris. Margaret Forster has a particular skill in depicting family relationships, not the sugar coated ones but the real life misunderstandings and difficulties that beset most families at one time or another. Julia spent the run up to the wedding terrified that this opportunity was going to be snatched away from her due to her mother's anxiety. As Julia grows she spends more time with Iris and soon a terrible event changes the course of her life forever.
This book has themes of childhood memories, jealousy and guilt running through its pages. There are some wonderful characters although not necessarily likable ones.
This is an absorbing tale, well written with a real understanding of how a child processes information and memories. The only criticism I have is that the girls in Julia's caseload seemed to be solved in a very simplistic manner, I presume this was to illustrate that all the girls needed was the wisdom of Julia's advice but I found it a little bit too dismissive. Despite this it was well worth a read and a good example of how well Margaret Forster writes and her immense skill at handling difficult subjects.
In the past I have loved some of Margaret Forster's novels, but I found her style dated and as other reviewers have said, at times clunky and clumsy. The story line is not believable and really quite grim. I'm sad because I had hoped for more.
Worst book I've ever read The girl who thinks she does harmless pranks but it's not and tries to justify her wrong doings and also how she is in a better position in future even after everything she did. She's an ungrateful brat and doesn't want to be treated kindly. Guess she is masochistic.
This is the first book I've read by Margaret Forster. It was so well written and the story so compelling, I found it hard to put down. I'll definitely be reading more of her work.
I was hooked from the first page by the challenging voice of the protagonist Julia, running in parallel strands through her uncomfortable childhood and her calm, ordered adult life as a child psychologist. It was an easy read, but also an uneasy read, with a low dread of what Julia might do next . I found it particularly gripping while Julia was young, with that awkwardness of a child coping while also trying to understand her world, but liked and believed in her a little less at stages in her late teens. A very thought provoking book on nature versus nurture, but with less cataclysmic side-effects than Lionel SHriver's hauntingly masterful "We Need To Talk About Kevin". The latter is a book which has "lived" with me for some 7 or 8 years now, hardly dimmed. The Unknown Bridesmaid doesn't have that wattage, but was a good compelling read, which regularly demanded "just another chapter". Always a good thing. Probably a 3 1/2, but I feel rounding up is fairer than rounding down.
The central character Julia was certainly not likeable, although initially it seemed to be her mother who was the tyrant, with Julia constantly told to do what she was asked. She seemed to accept this without question. Only after her mothers death did she seem to rebel. She alienated the very people who were there to support her, I did think there was perhaps something more shocking that had happened, prior to her leaving Iris, the build up led one to believe that. I found it unrealistic that after all those years, with Iris as an old woman, Julia would have written a confession. Ironic that she found her career dealing with girls, some similar to her. A very different book, but a bit lacking in places.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
"...And as she struggles to understand her childhood self, she must confront the possibility that the truth may not be as devastating as she feared."
That's the problem - the truth isn't devastating, so it doesn't really need confronting, does it? A book about nothing. Is that mean? Harsh? Probably. Sorry Margaret Forster. I know how long it takes and how difficult it is to write a book. I'm sure lots and lots of people will love this. I didn't.
A bit of an oddity this. Often you start out not liking the main character much, but as the story moves on you become more involved with them. In this I found I quite liked the character to start & grew to dislike her more as the book went on. Persevered to the end but was left with a feeling that I might have spent my reading time better.
Strange book. Didn't really feel like it got going. Small twist at the end which felt like it should be more of a revelation than it was. Disappointing to be honest.
The author, Margaret Forster, was unknown to me when I selected this book from the library. The book looked intriguing and I decided to give it a try. I am so glad I did. I will be looking for more books by Ms. Forster. The story is a psychological and moral tale of Julia, alternating between her girlhood and her adulthood. While Julia is not a character that one likes, I did feel some sympathy for her. In a way she was her own worst enemy. As a child she delighted in playing pranks on her older cousin Iris, stealing money from her, going through her belongings. She continued her mischief with Iris' daughter, often cruelly pretending to leave her behind, hiding her homework so she got into trouble at school. There is no clear reason for this behavior as Iris and her family have been kind to Julia. The alternating story shows the adult Julia to be a person who works with disturbed children. She seems to understand them quite well. And we see that she is a functioning member of society with a profession and even a few friends. I found the book completely engrossing. I wanted to see how this mean, unlovely child became, if not a kind and caring person, at least one who no longer found amusement in tormenting others.
I have recently found Margaret Forster. I started with “the seduction of Mrs Penderley” and immediately loved it. (I am savouring it so I’m reading any other books by M Forster I can find.) I didn’t enjoy this book as much as I am Mrs Penderley - it’s not blackly funny - in fact it’s not funny at all. But M Forster is so capable in creating deep characterisations and exploring the impact of individual psychologies. People who love introspective books (I am one of them) will enjoy her books I am sure. I think her books would make fantastic book club books because everyone will be forced to form an opinion on the characters so I think her books would generate discussion. She is weak on plot and strong on themes and characters. The theme in this book is self-deception and how harmful it is. I suspect that self-ignorance is probably a theme that M Forster frequently explores. I felt icky for most of the time reading this book because Julia is so unlikeable and I think she even tries to corrupt the reader to agree with her justifucations and further self-deception. M Forster is a masterful writer. I am eager to start the next book.
This novel follows the life of Julia: first a weird, kind of mean-spirited child, then an even more mean-spirited teenager (who is a bully), later a bitter and sour woman. I did not like her, and the novel didn't do enough to explain her behavior for me. While she was bearable as a child and as a teen I could find some justifications for her on my own, during her adult years I was mostly shaking my head and being annoyed. Also, for a long time I felt like this novel wasn't going anywhere, which in the end was kind of true. All problems, plot points etc turned out to have no real consequences in the end, which felt really anticlimactic. What I liked at first was the structure of the book, going back and forth between scenes from Julia's early years and her adult life, with little scenes from her work as a child psychologist. For a while I was really interested in the cases of girls she consulted on, but since we never got more than a page or two and the kid was never mentioned again, I lost interest in that aspect too.
Julia is a child psychologist and magistrate, who's dedicated her life to understanding what's happening in the minds of troubled kids and finding ways to help them. This book tells the story of her own difficult childhood, with a dead father and a controlling, emotionally withdrawn mother who dies when Julia is still a child. Her early life is intertwined with that of her cousin Iris, who loses first her husband and then her baby son, and later takes Julia in once she is orphaned.
Julia becomes spiteful and cruel to her cousin and her family, and spends much of her later life trying to atone for it, even as she denies to herself that she did anything wrong.
I enjoyed the twists and turns of this book as we jump between different timelines in Julia's life. The story is full of insight into the human condition: though I found the ending abrupt and unsatisfactory.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
I always look forward to reading a novel by Margaret Forster and think that this is one of her best. It is written with her usual incisive understanding of the human psyche and with her trademark literary prose, where not one word feels either superfluous or wasted. She captured the struggles of the young Julia, gradually revealing the past events which had shaped the life she came to lead as an adult. It wasn't always easy to like the character, either as a child or as an adult, but the carefully revealed secrets, the ways she found to rationalise her behaviour, her subsequent actions and her struggles with guilt and shame certainly enabled me to understand her and even, at times, to feel a deep compassion for her.