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The Divorce Papers
Twenty-nine-year-old Sophie Diehl is happy toiling away as a criminal law associate at an old line New England firm where she very much appreciates that most of her clients are behind bars. Everyone at Traynor, Hand knows she abhors face-to-face contact, but one weekend, with all the big partners away, Sophie must handle the intake interview for the daughter of the firm’s most important client. After eighteen years of marriage, Mayflower descendant Mia Meiklejohn Durkheim has just been served divorce papers in a humiliating scene at the popular local restaurant, Golightly’s. She is locked and loaded to fight her eminent and ambitious husband, Dr. Daniel Durkheim, Chief of the Department of Pediatric Oncology, for custody of their ten-year-old daughter Jane—and she also burns to take him down a peg. Sophie warns Mia that she’s never handled a divorce case before, but Mia can’t be put off. As she so disarmingly puts it: It’s her first divorce, too.
Debut novelist Susan Rieger doesn’t leave a word out of place in this hilarious and expertly crafted debut that shines with the power and pleasure of storytelling. Told through personal correspondence, office memos, emails, articles, and legal papers, this playful reinvention of the epistolary form races along with humor and heartache, exploring the complicated family dynamic that results when marriage fails. For Sophie, the whole affair sparks a hard look at her own relationships—not only with her parents, but with colleagues, friends, lovers, and most importantly, herself. Much like Where’d You Go, Bernadette, The Divorce Papers will have you laughing aloud and thanking the literature gods for this incredible, fresh new voice in fiction.
Debut novelist Susan Rieger doesn’t leave a word out of place in this hilarious and expertly crafted debut that shines with the power and pleasure of storytelling. Told through personal correspondence, office memos, emails, articles, and legal papers, this playful reinvention of the epistolary form races along with humor and heartache, exploring the complicated family dynamic that results when marriage fails. For Sophie, the whole affair sparks a hard look at her own relationships—not only with her parents, but with colleagues, friends, lovers, and most importantly, herself. Much like Where’d You Go, Bernadette, The Divorce Papers will have you laughing aloud and thanking the literature gods for this incredible, fresh new voice in fiction.
465 pages, Hardcover
First published March 18, 2014
349 people are currently reading
8339 people want to read
About the author
Susan Rieger
3 books342 followersSusan Rieger is a graduate of Columbia University Law School. She is also a former Associate Provost for Equal Opportunity and Affirmative Action at Columbia University. The Divorce Papers is her debut novel.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 1,319 reviews
dnf
May 14, 2015DNF @ pg. 175
Debut novelist Susan Rieger doesn’t leave a word out of place in this hilarious and expertly crafted debut that shines with the power and pleasure of storytelling.
Uh, bullshit. This is far from hilarious. And far from storytelling. And before you interrupt with 'epistolary IS storytelling' you're right, IT CAN BE because I love me an epistolary novel and that is actually the sole reason I picked this up but this is a series of e-mails, court documents, legal memorandums, depositions, and even legal articles explaining legal processes to us lesser mortals that aren't aware of how a divorce works. And it still doesn't manage to tell a story. Rieger attempts to include personal e-mails from Sophie to attempt to draw us into her story but it was a failure because she was completely uninteresting and it simply didn't mesh well with the rest of the story or rather, the process. This felt like a How To Guide for newbie lawyers on handling divorces. At first I enjoyed the flashbacks it gave me to my law classes having to sift through massive amounts of paperwork to get the tiny sliver of information that I need but then I realized the court documents are bullshit too and possessed information that would never be included.
'Witnesses who came forward on both sides described a neighborhood straight out John Updike's novel Couples.'
Yeah that would never be in a Supreme Court court transcript. Never. So basically that was added as an attempt to make it more fun? More interesting? Well, court documents aren't fun or interesting so if that's what she was going for maybe they shouldn't have been included at all. There was a ton of editing out that could have been done because most sections lacked purpose and/or meaning and was basically just inconsequential filler. But honestly, the whole book felt like inconsequential filler and I had zero desire to finish it.
Debut novelist Susan Rieger doesn’t leave a word out of place in this hilarious and expertly crafted debut that shines with the power and pleasure of storytelling.
Uh, bullshit. This is far from hilarious. And far from storytelling. And before you interrupt with 'epistolary IS storytelling' you're right, IT CAN BE because I love me an epistolary novel and that is actually the sole reason I picked this up but this is a series of e-mails, court documents, legal memorandums, depositions, and even legal articles explaining legal processes to us lesser mortals that aren't aware of how a divorce works. And it still doesn't manage to tell a story. Rieger attempts to include personal e-mails from Sophie to attempt to draw us into her story but it was a failure because she was completely uninteresting and it simply didn't mesh well with the rest of the story or rather, the process. This felt like a How To Guide for newbie lawyers on handling divorces. At first I enjoyed the flashbacks it gave me to my law classes having to sift through massive amounts of paperwork to get the tiny sliver of information that I need but then I realized the court documents are bullshit too and possessed information that would never be included.
'Witnesses who came forward on both sides described a neighborhood straight out John Updike's novel Couples.'
Yeah that would never be in a Supreme Court court transcript. Never. So basically that was added as an attempt to make it more fun? More interesting? Well, court documents aren't fun or interesting so if that's what she was going for maybe they shouldn't have been included at all. There was a ton of editing out that could have been done because most sections lacked purpose and/or meaning and was basically just inconsequential filler. But honestly, the whole book felt like inconsequential filler and I had zero desire to finish it.
October 26, 2014
This book started off really good...and then I think I fell asleep.
Two WASP's are getting a divorce and I really liked the Mrs. at first. The book is in the form of emails, correspondance, letters and that kind of crud. I lost interest when way too many legal documents got added in. I can see where the author wanted to go with it. I just could not take it. I did not care how much money these dumbasses had anymore. Borrringgg.
I had enough court room time in the last year to do me a lifetime. I sure as heck didn't want to read about it over and over again.
I would rather do this...
that's how bad this book is.
Two WASP's are getting a divorce and I really liked the Mrs. at first. The book is in the form of emails, correspondance, letters and that kind of crud. I lost interest when way too many legal documents got added in. I can see where the author wanted to go with it. I just could not take it. I did not care how much money these dumbasses had anymore. Borrringgg.
I had enough court room time in the last year to do me a lifetime. I sure as heck didn't want to read about it over and over again.
I would rather do this...
that's how bad this book is.
December 22, 2016
The Divorce Papers by Susan Rieger is a 2014 Crown publication.
I don’t know how this book ended up on my radar, but somewhere along the way I stumbled across it and immediately checked it out of the library without first checking to see what the reviews were like. Well, now that I’ve muddled through this overlong quagmire of legalese and correspondence, I see it’s a bit of a mixed bag.
First of all, I love it when an author takes big risks, even if they don’t exactly work out. In this case, the idea is not necessarily original, since there have been other novels that used letters or emails as the main method of storytelling.
However, I don’t think I’ve ever encountered a book that used actual legal correspondence and papers as a visual aid in what basically amounts to a chick lit novel about self- discovery, growing up emotionally, and the mystery of human relationships, with just a dash of romance thrown in, almost as an afterthought.
The problem is that like in real life, reading divorce documents between the two parties involved is about as interesting as watching paint dry. The emails and letters were revealing and at times sad, wistful, and of course poignant, especially for a child caught in the middle. But, there were also humorous moments, tricky developments, and a lot of office drama to keep us entertained.
But, the legal wrangling between Mia and Daniel seriously impeded the character development and stunted the pacing. By the time I flipped over several pages of financial assets and the breakdown of who got what, I didn’t really care what happened next. I was just ready to get to the punch line.
But, the book seemed to drag on forever, until I seriously considered dumping this one in the DNF file. But, I had to know if Mia and Daniel would finally agree to a settlement and if their daughter would adjust and of course if Sophie’s professional life would survive the divorce case and if her personal life would ever blossom.
While I was okay with the way things worked for the characters, and did understand the parallels the author was trying to draw, by the time I got the ending I was too exhausted for it to really penetrate my emotions. Ultimately, it was anticlimactic and frustrating, and left me thinking: I stuck it out all the way to the bitter end and this is all I get? I was hoping for more, but at this point I’m just happy the story ended with an upbeat tone.
Overall, I found this book to be a little exasperating, and perhaps it was just too much work for such tepid results. I do applaud the unique style and admire the author’s boldness in trying something so unusual. I just wish it had worked out differently.
2 stars
I don’t know how this book ended up on my radar, but somewhere along the way I stumbled across it and immediately checked it out of the library without first checking to see what the reviews were like. Well, now that I’ve muddled through this overlong quagmire of legalese and correspondence, I see it’s a bit of a mixed bag.
First of all, I love it when an author takes big risks, even if they don’t exactly work out. In this case, the idea is not necessarily original, since there have been other novels that used letters or emails as the main method of storytelling.
However, I don’t think I’ve ever encountered a book that used actual legal correspondence and papers as a visual aid in what basically amounts to a chick lit novel about self- discovery, growing up emotionally, and the mystery of human relationships, with just a dash of romance thrown in, almost as an afterthought.
The problem is that like in real life, reading divorce documents between the two parties involved is about as interesting as watching paint dry. The emails and letters were revealing and at times sad, wistful, and of course poignant, especially for a child caught in the middle. But, there were also humorous moments, tricky developments, and a lot of office drama to keep us entertained.
But, the legal wrangling between Mia and Daniel seriously impeded the character development and stunted the pacing. By the time I flipped over several pages of financial assets and the breakdown of who got what, I didn’t really care what happened next. I was just ready to get to the punch line.
But, the book seemed to drag on forever, until I seriously considered dumping this one in the DNF file. But, I had to know if Mia and Daniel would finally agree to a settlement and if their daughter would adjust and of course if Sophie’s professional life would survive the divorce case and if her personal life would ever blossom.
While I was okay with the way things worked for the characters, and did understand the parallels the author was trying to draw, by the time I got the ending I was too exhausted for it to really penetrate my emotions. Ultimately, it was anticlimactic and frustrating, and left me thinking: I stuck it out all the way to the bitter end and this is all I get? I was hoping for more, but at this point I’m just happy the story ended with an upbeat tone.
Overall, I found this book to be a little exasperating, and perhaps it was just too much work for such tepid results. I do applaud the unique style and admire the author’s boldness in trying something so unusual. I just wish it had worked out differently.
2 stars
October 29, 2014
Find all of my reviews at: http://52bookminimum.blogspot.com/
Edit: I never would have guessed I'd "bump" a 1 Star review, but if Goodreads is going to advertise this sucker then I'm going to save you all the misery of reading it. DO NOT WASTE YOUR MONEY!!!
Sophie is a criminal law associate at a small New England firm who gets roped in to interviewing a potential high-profile divorce client when no one else is available. Sophie impresses the client at the initial meeting so much that she is drafted to drop some of her criminal workload and handle the divorce case under the supervision of the managing partner. She now finds herself questioning her own relationships and up to her elbows in "The Divorce Papers".
This book had sooooo much potential. The characters were workable and Ms. Rieger has a wonderful wit about her. Unfortunately, she let herself get bogged down in the actual PAPERWORK of divorce rather than letting the story tell itself through the characters. After working in a law firm all day, the LAST thing I want to do is kick my feet back and read financial statements, court filings, psych evaluations and custody documents. There’s a reason I’ve always stayed away from family law and all that mess helped remind me why. I picked up this book thinking it would be fun and fluff. I enjoy books written in an unconventional style (using e-mails/memos/etc. to tell the story). However, rather than being an easy, lighthearted read, this book quickly turned into "How to Dissolve a WASP Marriage." Snooze!!!! If the 150 pages of filler legal documents would have been left on the editing room floor, this rating probably would have been a lot better.
P.S. I get crazy-pissed when a book name-drops another book and then fails to deliver. Where’d You Go, Bernadette? was one of my favorite reads of the year. I’ve recommended it to nearly everyone I know. If The Divorce Papers has the nerve to use such a runaway blockbuster as a comparison, it better live up to expectations. This one doesn’t even come close.
NetGalley ARC - Thank You NetGalley!!!
Edit: I never would have guessed I'd "bump" a 1 Star review, but if Goodreads is going to advertise this sucker then I'm going to save you all the misery of reading it. DO NOT WASTE YOUR MONEY!!!
Sophie is a criminal law associate at a small New England firm who gets roped in to interviewing a potential high-profile divorce client when no one else is available. Sophie impresses the client at the initial meeting so much that she is drafted to drop some of her criminal workload and handle the divorce case under the supervision of the managing partner. She now finds herself questioning her own relationships and up to her elbows in "The Divorce Papers".
This book had sooooo much potential. The characters were workable and Ms. Rieger has a wonderful wit about her. Unfortunately, she let herself get bogged down in the actual PAPERWORK of divorce rather than letting the story tell itself through the characters. After working in a law firm all day, the LAST thing I want to do is kick my feet back and read financial statements, court filings, psych evaluations and custody documents. There’s a reason I’ve always stayed away from family law and all that mess helped remind me why. I picked up this book thinking it would be fun and fluff. I enjoy books written in an unconventional style (using e-mails/memos/etc. to tell the story). However, rather than being an easy, lighthearted read, this book quickly turned into "How to Dissolve a WASP Marriage." Snooze!!!! If the 150 pages of filler legal documents would have been left on the editing room floor, this rating probably would have been a lot better.
P.S. I get crazy-pissed when a book name-drops another book and then fails to deliver. Where’d You Go, Bernadette? was one of my favorite reads of the year. I’ve recommended it to nearly everyone I know. If The Divorce Papers has the nerve to use such a runaway blockbuster as a comparison, it better live up to expectations. This one doesn’t even come close.
NetGalley ARC - Thank You NetGalley!!!
April 29, 2014
I knew there was good buzz about The Divorce Papers but didn't think I'd get to it anytime soon. Wrong. There is was sitting on our library shelf and I just couldn't resist.
As I started this story of a messy divorce told in correspondence I was thinking "Oh brother, another book with a gimmick. Can't anyone just tell the story these days without resorting to quirky angles?" But as I continued I found myself caught up in the plot and characters and eventually applauding Susan Rieger for this approach. I'm a fan.
The Divorce Papers is a detailed dissection of the dissolution of a high profile marriage. By using the correspondence of the Plaintiff, Daniel E. Durkheim and the Defendant, Maria (Mia) M. Durkheim (3M), the lawyers and firm, friends and family and the Durkheim's daughter Jane, we are privy to the debris of a union gone bad. Mia Durkheim is a spunky, strong woman who with her lawyer, Sophie, a criminal lawyer, who knows little about divorce law, form a formidable team to get the best custody award and settlement they can. Divorce is a dirty business, always with loss, and watching the chess like game is compelling.
It's sad, it's funny, it's a fast paced read. Rieger is a lawyer and this is apparent which might be a bit much for some. Me, I loved this debut and look forward to Rieger's next book.
As I started this story of a messy divorce told in correspondence I was thinking "Oh brother, another book with a gimmick. Can't anyone just tell the story these days without resorting to quirky angles?" But as I continued I found myself caught up in the plot and characters and eventually applauding Susan Rieger for this approach. I'm a fan.
The Divorce Papers is a detailed dissection of the dissolution of a high profile marriage. By using the correspondence of the Plaintiff, Daniel E. Durkheim and the Defendant, Maria (Mia) M. Durkheim (3M), the lawyers and firm, friends and family and the Durkheim's daughter Jane, we are privy to the debris of a union gone bad. Mia Durkheim is a spunky, strong woman who with her lawyer, Sophie, a criminal lawyer, who knows little about divorce law, form a formidable team to get the best custody award and settlement they can. Divorce is a dirty business, always with loss, and watching the chess like game is compelling.
It's sad, it's funny, it's a fast paced read. Rieger is a lawyer and this is apparent which might be a bit much for some. Me, I loved this debut and look forward to Rieger's next book.
June 28, 2017
My wife, who was a criminal defense lawyer who became a divorce attorney, is sitting across the room reading this book and can't stop chortling. It must be good.
April 8, 2014
Don't trust professional reviews of this novel. This is mega tedious legal infodump-filled boringness.
July 20, 2015
I am a criminal lawyer who happens to be getting a divorce. I really enjoyed this book.
What I wonder is whether non-lawyers will. Rieger's "novel in letters" works surprisingly well, but it also contains a significant amount of statutes, memos, cases and legal agreements that will probably have people flipping pages to get to the good stuff.
I had no trouble committing to the book. I liked it instantly and wasn't perturbed by the legal-speak. Our protagonist, Sophie Diehl, is a criminal lawyer in a small but important law firm in the fictional state of Narragansett (subbing for Rhode Island). She enjoys the "cowboy" lifestyle of the criminal defense attorney but is roped into doing a divorce for one of the most important families in the state.
Sophie has no problem spilling her heart out in memos and emails (which makes the book work) and we get a good look at her, her client, her co-workers, her love life, her family and the lingering pain of her parents' divorce when she was a child.
If some of the legal issues seem overly complicated to a layman, it is actually significantly simplified so if you know anything about divorces and worry it's all going to be unreadable, don't fret.
The book manages to be both light and dark at turns. And certainly enjoyable enough that you don't have to worry about whether it was only published because the novelist's husband is New Yorker critic David Denby (who gets an amusing shout-out in the book). She deserves the publication 100%.
What I wonder is whether non-lawyers will. Rieger's "novel in letters" works surprisingly well, but it also contains a significant amount of statutes, memos, cases and legal agreements that will probably have people flipping pages to get to the good stuff.
I had no trouble committing to the book. I liked it instantly and wasn't perturbed by the legal-speak. Our protagonist, Sophie Diehl, is a criminal lawyer in a small but important law firm in the fictional state of Narragansett (subbing for Rhode Island). She enjoys the "cowboy" lifestyle of the criminal defense attorney but is roped into doing a divorce for one of the most important families in the state.
Sophie has no problem spilling her heart out in memos and emails (which makes the book work) and we get a good look at her, her client, her co-workers, her love life, her family and the lingering pain of her parents' divorce when she was a child.
If some of the legal issues seem overly complicated to a layman, it is actually significantly simplified so if you know anything about divorces and worry it's all going to be unreadable, don't fret.
The book manages to be both light and dark at turns. And certainly enjoyable enough that you don't have to worry about whether it was only published because the novelist's husband is New Yorker critic David Denby (who gets an amusing shout-out in the book). She deserves the publication 100%.
March 23, 2015
If you like to read fluff at the beach, say, this is ideal.
November 16, 2014
1.5 stars
Only the most masochistic of readers will be able to derive any enjoyment from Susan Rieger's novel The Divorce Papers. The title and cover pretty much let you know everything you're going to encounter in this 480-page bloat: divorce papers. Lots and lots of divorce papers. If that's your "thing", then by all means, knock yourself out. It's about 60% divorce papers from an way-upper-middle class couple from the "commonwealth of Narragansett" (code for, I guess, "this really takes place in Salem, Massachusetts, but I can't quote case law and precedents from there so I'll invent a new state"), and 40% "epistolary" convo (via letters and emails) from Sophie Diehl, a criminal defense attorney who is forced to work the case because all the firm's divorce attorneys were out of town.
The format does drive home the messy nature of a contentious divorce, but who (other than, I suppose, someone contemplating divorce) would care to sift through page after page of lawyer documents regarding a bitter divorce? Thanks to the dry-as-a-bone format, you never really get a sense for the human toll a divorce wreaks. The go-nowhere epistolary element (i.e. Sophie's emails to boss, client, friends and family) does little to spice up this dead-in-the-water Divorce-Law-textbook-disguised-as-a-novel. Blecch.
July 25, 2014
I like epistolary novels. I like legal novels. So I was hoping that I would enjoy this book. But I didn't really care for it. First, I don't understand why it had to take place in 1999. That's a really specific time period with a lot of meaning, but it didn't have any bearing on the story. There is no reason whatsoever that this story couldn't have taken place today, there just would have been more text messages and less handwritten letters. I also didn't care for all of the legal documents and statutes. They were presented in a pretty boring way. There were also some legal mistakes. Nothing that would bother normal readers, I imagine. But saying that Mia and her father own property together as tenants by the entirety just made me think about incest for a good 50 pages. But the worst part is that the story itself was boring. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel about the main character. I'm not even entirely sure who the main character is... is it Mia or Sophie? Or Jane? Or someone else? But the story just kind of went nowhere. If the story had been better, the other complaints I had wouldn't have mattered.
March 28, 2014
Loved this. It's a fresh take on the "epistolary novel" -- novels told in the form of letters or documents, like "We Need to Talk About Kevin" or "Bridget Jones's Diary" -- using legal documents in an epic divorce case. It's getting great reviews, all well-deserved.
February 8, 2014
I loved Rieger's voice. I know a lot of author/lawyers and they do make great writers. For her first novel, she stuck with what she knew - law - and the book's structure (a year of divorce papers, letters and emails) was a clever one. I did skim most all of the reference documents, but not the ones that pertained to the divorce Sophie was handling.
I enjoyed the book (read it in 3 days at around 600 pages) and for me the only thing that slowed the pace was Sophie's extremely long emails to her best friend Maggie. Not only do I not think friends write such long emails but she seemed to have to pour her heart out in every one. Maybe a diary format for those would've been better? Anyway, I found myself skimming over those, too.
I liked how the book tied in a relationship for her as well as trying to heal her pain from her own parent's divorce.
The only other reason the book doesn't give 5 stars is not everyone in the book can be this clever or this smart. For me that was always author intrusion - trying to make some clever statement in every single character's narrative. (Again I like her voice but it didn't always feel like the character's.)
That being said, four stars is pretty great for a first novel and I'd definitely read her again. Brava, Susan.
::this was an ARC supplied by the publisher::
I enjoyed the book (read it in 3 days at around 600 pages) and for me the only thing that slowed the pace was Sophie's extremely long emails to her best friend Maggie. Not only do I not think friends write such long emails but she seemed to have to pour her heart out in every one. Maybe a diary format for those would've been better? Anyway, I found myself skimming over those, too.
I liked how the book tied in a relationship for her as well as trying to heal her pain from her own parent's divorce.
The only other reason the book doesn't give 5 stars is not everyone in the book can be this clever or this smart. For me that was always author intrusion - trying to make some clever statement in every single character's narrative. (Again I like her voice but it didn't always feel like the character's.)
That being said, four stars is pretty great for a first novel and I'd definitely read her again. Brava, Susan.
::this was an ARC supplied by the publisher::
June 7, 2015
It's Mia's first divorce...and it's the first divorce that her lawyer, Sophie has handled. Told exclusively through emails, and letters, the 461 pages flew by! It's okay to skim over some of the legal documents..when I saw documents that were highlighted I knew that I could just read those paragraphs and when a document had no highlights, I read it in its entirety. Unique.
May 30, 2014
Take an unlikable heroine, a wildly implausible premise, wildly implausible and unprofessional behavior, and some backstory that, because of the epistolary-like style, requires tons of telling and very little showing. Add a dash of a fairly rote divorce case as the through line (though, actually, on this count, I applaud the author, because while none of her characters are very interesting, at least the divorcing husband and wife mostly act like actual people and not War of the Roses-style caricatures). Voila, this book.
Seriously? Junior criminal associate is the only person at the firm who can make time for an intake interview with the about-to-get-divorced daughter of the firm's biggest client? She tells the managing partner she doesn't like client contact and doesn't want to work on the case? She sends frequent emails to that managing partner about how hard the case is and details how it makes her feel because of her own parents' divorce? She frequently discloses sensitive client information to outsiders? Every other email she sends to the managing partner discusses how she doesn't plan to work that weekend?
LOL, OK, sure, all high-paid junior associates do those things and still have jobs. They are, in fact, lauded by their employers. They are plucky heroines.
No.
Seriously? Junior criminal associate is the only person at the firm who can make time for an intake interview with the about-to-get-divorced daughter of the firm's biggest client? She tells the managing partner she doesn't like client contact and doesn't want to work on the case? She sends frequent emails to that managing partner about how hard the case is and details how it makes her feel because of her own parents' divorce? She frequently discloses sensitive client information to outsiders? Every other email she sends to the managing partner discusses how she doesn't plan to work that weekend?
LOL, OK, sure, all high-paid junior associates do those things and still have jobs. They are, in fact, lauded by their employers. They are plucky heroines.
No.
April 3, 2014
The title says it all, this was literally a collection of divorce papers. The book's description used words like "hilarious" and "laugh out loud"...I think that happened once. This is not a funny book, it's actually a rather dry book - which is fine, I knew that getting in, that it was written in epistolary style. For those who don't know what that means, it basically means that the whole novel is written as a series of documents (e-mails, memos, legal case studies, letters, etc.) I guess I just expected a story, with interesting characters and maybe a point to why I was spending so long sifting through the records of their divorce...and in the end, there really is no point. It's just a really long book that reads like the longest case study in the history of case studies. I kept hoping for some twist or something interesting to happen...NOPE. Husband wants divorce, wife comes from money and is blind-sided by divorce, haggle over settlement, settle...I just spent two days reading about a random divorce...I feel kind of cheated.
March 26, 2016
3.5 stars - It was really good.
It's so true that no two people ever really read the same book. My friends are torn down the middle between loving this one and DNF'ing it due to claims of it being a boring info dump. For me, it was a clever and quirky novel that while it didn't exactly keep me on the edge of my seat, it never slowed down the pace either.
I really enjoyed the wit of one of the MCs, Mia, and thought she handled her situation unbelievably well. Also loved all of the literary inclusions as the author names many books which sound fascinating, but I had never heard of before.
I definitely recommend giving it a try. If you don't like the first few chapters, you will likely not enjoy the book, while other readers will be drawn in immediately.
-------------------------------------------
Favorite Quote: It's hard enough to love someone who's mean to you; it's almost impossible to love someone who brings out the worst in you.
First Sentence: Dear Poppa, I wish you were here.
It's so true that no two people ever really read the same book. My friends are torn down the middle between loving this one and DNF'ing it due to claims of it being a boring info dump. For me, it was a clever and quirky novel that while it didn't exactly keep me on the edge of my seat, it never slowed down the pace either.
I really enjoyed the wit of one of the MCs, Mia, and thought she handled her situation unbelievably well. Also loved all of the literary inclusions as the author names many books which sound fascinating, but I had never heard of before.
I definitely recommend giving it a try. If you don't like the first few chapters, you will likely not enjoy the book, while other readers will be drawn in immediately.
-------------------------------------------
Favorite Quote: It's hard enough to love someone who's mean to you; it's almost impossible to love someone who brings out the worst in you.
First Sentence: Dear Poppa, I wish you were here.
June 12, 2017
I listened to this a number of years ago. Maybe the audio version made it more enjoyable-but I remember it as an enjoyable listen.
July 11, 2016
One of the characters in the novel tells the protagonist, a young criminal attorney forced into handling a divorce case that "your editing function tends to be on the fritz ...you don't have to say everything you think." That tends to be a problem for her, especially in her e-mails and letter drafts. Other than that, if you are a fan of the epistolary style even if includes some dry legal rulings and court documents, financial spreadsheets in addition to the normal correspondence you will enjoy this book. Interesting nestled stories of the divorce in question between the noted physician and his helpmate wife with a child caught in the middle, politics in the law office, legal processes and the attorney's personal and family life. I found it clever, well conceived and executed and some interesting insight into the divorce process among the moneyed. Quite enjoyable.
September 13, 2017
I've never read an Epistolary novel before but this one had me flipping pages half the night. Full disclosure: I once wanted to be a divorce attorney, but I'm not sure if that matters. I like the distance from the characters. Who cares what they eat and what the space they're in looks? What matters is what happens. And when rich people divorce plenty happens.
April 27, 2014
This book was a total waste of time. I stayed with it because I thought there must be something more to it. But there never was. Unless you really enjoy reading legal documents, you should pass on this ones not funny, no real story, no surprises.
April 28, 2014
Ms. Rieger, stick to legal profession. This book was just plain awful. I kept podding through it thinking it would have to get better as the review I read was very positive.
April 23, 2014
Blech. To be fair, this was a good idea for a book, and it was certainly a well-written one. But it wasn't humorous, as it claimed to be, nor interesting, as one would assume it should be. Oh well.
Sophie Diehl is a young criminal lawyer at a prestigious New England firm who is specifically requested to take on a divorce case by one of the firm's high society clients. This process is laid bare for readers through legal documents, notes, email, and office memorandum (the book is set in 1999.) Readers are therefore treated not only to the details of the estranged couple's divorce, but also to interoffice politics, crushes, failed relationships, and uncertain career goals.
The book is like coming across a thick, orderly file and pilfering through: out of every twenty or so documents, one is a bit amusing, and the rest are someone else's droll life details. But again, in this particular case, all are very well written, so there is that.
In short, I am absolutely certain this novel will appeal to many; it simply failed to appeal to me.
Sophie Diehl is a young criminal lawyer at a prestigious New England firm who is specifically requested to take on a divorce case by one of the firm's high society clients. This process is laid bare for readers through legal documents, notes, email, and office memorandum (the book is set in 1999.) Readers are therefore treated not only to the details of the estranged couple's divorce, but also to interoffice politics, crushes, failed relationships, and uncertain career goals.
The book is like coming across a thick, orderly file and pilfering through: out of every twenty or so documents, one is a bit amusing, and the rest are someone else's droll life details. But again, in this particular case, all are very well written, so there is that.
In short, I am absolutely certain this novel will appeal to many; it simply failed to appeal to me.
March 31, 2014
You know, it was an interesting book. Written mostly in epistolary style, it tells multiple stories. The story of a divorce (as advertised) the story of the firm handling the divorce, and the individual lawyers involved. There is one thing I don't necessarily want in my fiction, however. CASE LAW. The only non letters/emails in this book were either legal filings related to the divorce, or case law. I don't care if it's made up case law, I don't want to read CASES when I'm reading a book for fun. Or filings. If you are allergic to case law in your fiction, this is not the book for you. If that doesn't bother you, you'll probably think it's clever.
The book, overall, was entertaining. I admit to skimming a lot of the case law, so I finished it pretty quick. It's a quick read, regardless, so don't be intimidated by the size.
The book, overall, was entertaining. I admit to skimming a lot of the case law, so I finished it pretty quick. It's a quick read, regardless, so don't be intimidated by the size.
November 29, 2023
Read for Pop sugar prompt: book about divorce
This could easily be a three star book but I enjoyed the core story well enough. The book is told in emails, cards, court documents and floral cards. The court documents were DULL. As in, rich people problems. Also, weirdly, I was going through a divorce at the same timeline the book was in. So, a bit close to home. But, interesting enough.
This could easily be a three star book but I enjoyed the core story well enough. The book is told in emails, cards, court documents and floral cards. The court documents were DULL. As in, rich people problems. Also, weirdly, I was going through a divorce at the same timeline the book was in. So, a bit close to home. But, interesting enough.
February 10, 2025
This is a brilliant and creative epistolary novel, written in a series of legal documents, letters, and memos. When I read my first verse novel in the 1990’s, I thought that using poetry was the most creative way possible to write a novel; I believe this book tops that. This book made me want to reread my divorce papers to see if they possibly contained a story even half as interesting!
Read
July 21, 2019This is the first time (so far as I can recall!) that I've left an unstarred review on Goodreads. I read (or rather, listened to) Susan Rieger's The Divorce Papers as an audio book. I am fairly new to audio books, but usually, I do not find the difference noteworthy. In the case of The Divorce Papers, however, I suspect the fact I listened rather than read drastically impacted upon my appreciation of the novel. For this reason, my review reflects mainly upon the nature of the novel as an audio book, and is likely irrelevant to anyone considering the print version.
As the title suggests, The Divorce Papers is an epistolary novel, presented in the form of the various papers (legal forms, memoranda, emails, etc.) produced over the course of a drawn-out divorce case.
I enjoy both epistolary novels and audio books, however, after listening to this one, I'm not sure the combination works.
And it's not because the audio book is poorly produced or narrated - in fact, the 'selection of narrators' have been well chosen, giving each of the cast of characters a distinct, memorable voice.
Nor is it because large chunks of the book consist of legal statutes or the financial statements and divorce settlement offers passed back and forward between the divorcing couples’ lawyers. While these would have been much easier to read in print (especially the financial statements, which are packed with large numbers that may make the heads of less financially well-off listeners such as myself spin), they are generally well-summarised either before or after their presentation. Although listening to this minutia can be tedious at times, I believe it is handled about as well as it could be in the narrative.
Rather, the big issue for me is that when reading a book of letters or emails or chat conversations, I tend to skim over the header information. Once I know who is writing to whom, and roughly when in the overall series of events, that's all I need to know. I prefer to spend my time focusing on the content of the messages.
A well formatted epistolary novel allows the reader to become familiar with, for example, the letterhead of one attorney, and tell at a glance who is writing, in much the same way that the distinct voices in this audio book should (and do) allow us tell us who is speaking, quite aside from the author's skill in crafting dialogue that sounds true to individual characters.
In the audio version of The Divorce Papers, however, every. single. piece. of. information. is. read. out, every. single. time. This gets repetitive quickly, as there is no way for the listener to effectively skim the information (Yes, you can skip forward, but because the useful information (such as who something is being written to) is embedded within the other stuff, and this isn't always made clear within the correspondence itself, you'll miss it. Yes, you can listen on double speed (which I did for the entire book as it was so long, and I found the reading speed very slow) but that doesn't fix the issues of pacing).
What do I mean by issues of pacing?
For one piece of correspondence I sampled at random, it took the reader 35 seconds to read this header information. And then 15 seconds to read the actual content of the message.
Not every segment of the book was quite as unbalanced as this, but there were many sections in which as much or more time was spent reading out these boring details than on the actual content of the message.
How many times do we need to hear 'Traynor, Hand, Wyzanski, New Salem, Narragansett, [Month, Date], Nineteen-ninety-nine, Ray, Kahn, and Boyl'? or 'Traynor, Hand, Wyzanski, New Salem, Narragansett, Memorandum: Attorney work product. From: David Greaves To: Sophie Diehl. RE: [topic] Date: [Month, Date], Nineteen-ninety-nine. Attachments: [Title Month Date], Nineteen-ninety-nine'? Sometimes it felt like I was listening to these tracks on repeat, which is a shame, as it really detracted from Rieger's often vivid and expressive content sandwiched in between.
The main impression I took away from listening to The Divorce Papers was that epistolary novels, perhaps more so than any other kind, require a very different approach for their conversion to audio books.
Rather than simply reading everything that is on a page, treating every bit of text as if it is of equal importance, the producer should, I feel, try to approximate the experience I believe most readers would have. That is, of spending more time on the most interesting and important parts. We all do this, including with the real correspondence in our life.
I can think of several simple ways The Divorce Papers could have been adapted for audio which would have made it a shorter book, but would have, in my view, enhanced, rather than detracted from the listening experience:
* Give the full address of the legal firms only the first time they are used. Do we really need to be reminded that Traynor, Hand and Wyzanski are located in ‘Narragansett, New Salem’ every single time their name is mentioned? Especially when constant references are made to Narragansett statutes and laws, there is little danger we will forget this memorable invented location. Likewise, where both the subject and the opening line are the same, e.g. ‘You won’t believe this’ surely one could be omitted. The audio book listener cannot ‘see’ the format, so it just sounds like the recording is skipping.
* While the year might be important to provide context for Rieger’s choice of media for her to characters to correspond via (there were far more papers and far fewer emails 20 years ago than we might expect today), and including the year does lend an air of authenticity to the format, is it really necessary to specify ‘nineteen-ninety-nine’ every single time the date is given? Especially when the timeline of the entire book takes place within the same year? After the first few uses, surely the month and date would be sufficient, and the reader can be trusted to infer the rest.
* When epistolary novels use text messages, emails, or instant messages that are exchanged rapidly, the hour and minute (or even second) a message is sent or received can be highly relevant to understanding. Congruent with the period in which The Divorce Papers is set, however, there are considerable delays between even the electronic messages sent in the novel. In that case, is it necessary to specify the hour and minute of every memorandum or email? If it is vital for us to know a character is awake late at night, for example, this could be included in the text (‘I can’t sleep’ or ‘What are you doing sending emails at one AM?’)
* Audio books can be difficult to navigate at the best of times, especially if you’re using an imprecise device like a phone. And particularly if the file is very long, and every micro-movement you make along the timeline equates to minutes or more. The usual issues aside, the naming of chapters in The Divorce Papers is inconsistent and confusing. Rather than assigning every single piece of correspondence its own chapter, several are often subsumed under the one heading. This is understandable, or the sheer number of chapters would have been overwhelming. But the names of the chapters are repetitive and not particularly useful. For instance, there are nineteen ‘chapters’ with the identical title ‘Traynor, Hand, Wyzanski, New Salem, Narragansett’.
Unless it is done for some literary effect, I am of the opinion that chapter names should be unique. After all, their primary purpose is to help the reader navigate the work, both in terms of aiding our understanding of what is contained in the chapter, and allowing us to identify where we are up to in the book as a whole.
Chapter titles like these fail on both counts – they neither characterise the content of the chapters (just tell us who wrote the first piece of correspondence in the section), nor do they help us remember where we are up to (you might remember you’re listening to a chapter called ‘Traynor, Hand, Wyzanski, New Salem, Narragansett’, but which one of the nineteen identically titled chapters is it?!)
Given the book is organised in chronological order, not by grouping the correspondence of a single writer into chunks, I believe a more useful approach would have been to name the chapters after chronological periods, for example, July 1-7.
So far as I can tell, there are two reasons why these kinds of (what I would consider common sense) adaptations have not been adopted. Authenticity is one.
Authenticity is, of course, important. But I would not view ‘authenticity' as a reason for future epistolary audio books to take such an approach – on the contrary, I think there are good reasons to believe that including all of the header details, over and over again, detracts from the experience of authenticity. From my previous work as a researcher of online communication, I understand all too well what vital information can be encoded in the headers of emails and other messages, and how these facts can impact on our interpretation of the content contained within. But I also know there is a lot of information that will be repeated every time, and can safely be ignored.
When most of us receive an email, we don’t spend anywhere near as long looking at the header information as we do looking at the content of the email. In fact, this is why many modern email providers like Gmail now hide much of the header information by default.
When I receive an electricity bill, my eyes only briefly skim the company’s name and slogan and the date and address and other sundry information at the top of the page, before spending much longer looking over the actual charges.
What we’re really interested in is the message from our sweetheart, or the amount the electric company is demanding. Not whether it was sent at three minutes past ten or whether the company is still headquartered in the city it’s always been in.
In an audio environment, the listener doesn’t have the ability to choose how long they’ll spend on any given part with anywhere near the sort of flexibility the reader does.
This greatly impacts upon the novel’s pacing, in three ways.
Firstly, in terms of sheer length. The Divorce Papers is close to 14 hours long – almost double the length of the average audio book. I haven’t seen the paperback edition, but I assume, because of the correspondence formatting, it, too, would have been longer than average. But as we all know, the number of pages in a book is only a rough indication of how long it will take to read. Some books are relatively short, yet the language (either in terms of expression, or font size!) is so dense, we spend a long time on them. Others are veritable doorstops, but their simple expression and clear formatting mean we rip through them. I imagine that while The Divorce Papers is likely a thicker-than-average book, I don’t believe it was designed to take longer-than-average to read. If readers skim over the header information, and concentrate on the content between these headers, I imagine the novel would contain enough plot and character development to sustain it. As an audio book, however, I’m not sure the amount of content warrants 14 hours’ concentration.
This leads me to my second point, the proportion of time readers/listeners spend on the headers vs. the content.
While the average reader might spend, say, at most a second or two glancing over the headers to see who is writing to whom, when, and then, perhaps, fifteen to thirty seconds concentrating on the actual content, in the audio version, this ratio is often flipped on its head. You have to listen to thirty-five seconds worth of header information every time, before getting fifteen seconds of content in some cases. In other words, while the reader might spend less than 20% of their time looking at this type of content, as a listener, in parts, it feels like half of your time is listening to these details.
Finally, the ordering of content is an issue when a book like this is translated verbatim into an audio book. It’s not just the proportion of time that is spent on these details, but the fact that every piece of correspondence begins with them. Rather than whetting your appetite, hearing all of these repetitious and seemingly inconsequential details I found effectively switched my brain off before I got to the good details. We all tend to zone out when presented with information our brain tells us we’ve already heard. When reading, it’s easy for us to see this repetition and skip it, in listening, we cannot tell where we need to tune in again.
Paradoxically, by including everything the printed version does, in much the same way we might expect from auto-generated screen reader software, I believe the audio book actually reduces the authenticity experienced by the listener. That is, they are forced to, in many cases, spend longer dwelling on the boring details than on the actual message, when, in the written version, I strongly believe most readers would only glance over them.
Aside from an attempt at authenticity, only other reason I can think of for a publisher to adopt such an approach is economic. And I’m not just talking about not having to pay for the adaptation (I am uncertain whether that would even be a saving on the balance, when the kinds of adaptations I have suggested would result in a shorter book, and hence, fewer hours to compensate readers for).
From the most recent figures I’ve seen, Audible is now by far the industry leader of audio book retailers. And from what I understand, they pay creators by length. This may also explain how very slowly the readers seem to read (I usually listen to audio books on 1.25 or 1.5x speed, but even at double speed, The Divorce Papers sounded almost slow at times to me.
Even if big publishers like Crown have different pricing arrangements, and even if other platforms have different rules, I would imagine that most readers might consider a long book worth shelling out more for. So, I can’t really see a compelling reason for publishers to consider adaptations of works that might result in a more enjoyable experience for readers, but less money for them.
In sum, The Divorce Papers is a fascinating idea for a novel, with distinct voices, which are well matched with the readers, but because of the way it has been produced, I’m not confident that I have appreciated its characters or plot fully enough to review them.
As the title suggests, The Divorce Papers is an epistolary novel, presented in the form of the various papers (legal forms, memoranda, emails, etc.) produced over the course of a drawn-out divorce case.
I enjoy both epistolary novels and audio books, however, after listening to this one, I'm not sure the combination works.
And it's not because the audio book is poorly produced or narrated - in fact, the 'selection of narrators' have been well chosen, giving each of the cast of characters a distinct, memorable voice.
Nor is it because large chunks of the book consist of legal statutes or the financial statements and divorce settlement offers passed back and forward between the divorcing couples’ lawyers. While these would have been much easier to read in print (especially the financial statements, which are packed with large numbers that may make the heads of less financially well-off listeners such as myself spin), they are generally well-summarised either before or after their presentation. Although listening to this minutia can be tedious at times, I believe it is handled about as well as it could be in the narrative.
Rather, the big issue for me is that when reading a book of letters or emails or chat conversations, I tend to skim over the header information. Once I know who is writing to whom, and roughly when in the overall series of events, that's all I need to know. I prefer to spend my time focusing on the content of the messages.
A well formatted epistolary novel allows the reader to become familiar with, for example, the letterhead of one attorney, and tell at a glance who is writing, in much the same way that the distinct voices in this audio book should (and do) allow us tell us who is speaking, quite aside from the author's skill in crafting dialogue that sounds true to individual characters.
In the audio version of The Divorce Papers, however, every. single. piece. of. information. is. read. out, every. single. time. This gets repetitive quickly, as there is no way for the listener to effectively skim the information (Yes, you can skip forward, but because the useful information (such as who something is being written to) is embedded within the other stuff, and this isn't always made clear within the correspondence itself, you'll miss it. Yes, you can listen on double speed (which I did for the entire book as it was so long, and I found the reading speed very slow) but that doesn't fix the issues of pacing).
What do I mean by issues of pacing?
For one piece of correspondence I sampled at random, it took the reader 35 seconds to read this header information. And then 15 seconds to read the actual content of the message.
Not every segment of the book was quite as unbalanced as this, but there were many sections in which as much or more time was spent reading out these boring details than on the actual content of the message.
How many times do we need to hear 'Traynor, Hand, Wyzanski, New Salem, Narragansett, [Month, Date], Nineteen-ninety-nine, Ray, Kahn, and Boyl'? or 'Traynor, Hand, Wyzanski, New Salem, Narragansett, Memorandum: Attorney work product. From: David Greaves To: Sophie Diehl. RE: [topic] Date: [Month, Date], Nineteen-ninety-nine. Attachments: [Title Month Date], Nineteen-ninety-nine'? Sometimes it felt like I was listening to these tracks on repeat, which is a shame, as it really detracted from Rieger's often vivid and expressive content sandwiched in between.
The main impression I took away from listening to The Divorce Papers was that epistolary novels, perhaps more so than any other kind, require a very different approach for their conversion to audio books.
Rather than simply reading everything that is on a page, treating every bit of text as if it is of equal importance, the producer should, I feel, try to approximate the experience I believe most readers would have. That is, of spending more time on the most interesting and important parts. We all do this, including with the real correspondence in our life.
I can think of several simple ways The Divorce Papers could have been adapted for audio which would have made it a shorter book, but would have, in my view, enhanced, rather than detracted from the listening experience:
* Give the full address of the legal firms only the first time they are used. Do we really need to be reminded that Traynor, Hand and Wyzanski are located in ‘Narragansett, New Salem’ every single time their name is mentioned? Especially when constant references are made to Narragansett statutes and laws, there is little danger we will forget this memorable invented location. Likewise, where both the subject and the opening line are the same, e.g. ‘You won’t believe this’ surely one could be omitted. The audio book listener cannot ‘see’ the format, so it just sounds like the recording is skipping.
* While the year might be important to provide context for Rieger’s choice of media for her to characters to correspond via (there were far more papers and far fewer emails 20 years ago than we might expect today), and including the year does lend an air of authenticity to the format, is it really necessary to specify ‘nineteen-ninety-nine’ every single time the date is given? Especially when the timeline of the entire book takes place within the same year? After the first few uses, surely the month and date would be sufficient, and the reader can be trusted to infer the rest.
* When epistolary novels use text messages, emails, or instant messages that are exchanged rapidly, the hour and minute (or even second) a message is sent or received can be highly relevant to understanding. Congruent with the period in which The Divorce Papers is set, however, there are considerable delays between even the electronic messages sent in the novel. In that case, is it necessary to specify the hour and minute of every memorandum or email? If it is vital for us to know a character is awake late at night, for example, this could be included in the text (‘I can’t sleep’ or ‘What are you doing sending emails at one AM?’)
* Audio books can be difficult to navigate at the best of times, especially if you’re using an imprecise device like a phone. And particularly if the file is very long, and every micro-movement you make along the timeline equates to minutes or more. The usual issues aside, the naming of chapters in The Divorce Papers is inconsistent and confusing. Rather than assigning every single piece of correspondence its own chapter, several are often subsumed under the one heading. This is understandable, or the sheer number of chapters would have been overwhelming. But the names of the chapters are repetitive and not particularly useful. For instance, there are nineteen ‘chapters’ with the identical title ‘Traynor, Hand, Wyzanski, New Salem, Narragansett’.
Unless it is done for some literary effect, I am of the opinion that chapter names should be unique. After all, their primary purpose is to help the reader navigate the work, both in terms of aiding our understanding of what is contained in the chapter, and allowing us to identify where we are up to in the book as a whole.
Chapter titles like these fail on both counts – they neither characterise the content of the chapters (just tell us who wrote the first piece of correspondence in the section), nor do they help us remember where we are up to (you might remember you’re listening to a chapter called ‘Traynor, Hand, Wyzanski, New Salem, Narragansett’, but which one of the nineteen identically titled chapters is it?!)
Given the book is organised in chronological order, not by grouping the correspondence of a single writer into chunks, I believe a more useful approach would have been to name the chapters after chronological periods, for example, July 1-7.
So far as I can tell, there are two reasons why these kinds of (what I would consider common sense) adaptations have not been adopted. Authenticity is one.
Authenticity is, of course, important. But I would not view ‘authenticity' as a reason for future epistolary audio books to take such an approach – on the contrary, I think there are good reasons to believe that including all of the header details, over and over again, detracts from the experience of authenticity. From my previous work as a researcher of online communication, I understand all too well what vital information can be encoded in the headers of emails and other messages, and how these facts can impact on our interpretation of the content contained within. But I also know there is a lot of information that will be repeated every time, and can safely be ignored.
When most of us receive an email, we don’t spend anywhere near as long looking at the header information as we do looking at the content of the email. In fact, this is why many modern email providers like Gmail now hide much of the header information by default.
When I receive an electricity bill, my eyes only briefly skim the company’s name and slogan and the date and address and other sundry information at the top of the page, before spending much longer looking over the actual charges.
What we’re really interested in is the message from our sweetheart, or the amount the electric company is demanding. Not whether it was sent at three minutes past ten or whether the company is still headquartered in the city it’s always been in.
In an audio environment, the listener doesn’t have the ability to choose how long they’ll spend on any given part with anywhere near the sort of flexibility the reader does.
This greatly impacts upon the novel’s pacing, in three ways.
Firstly, in terms of sheer length. The Divorce Papers is close to 14 hours long – almost double the length of the average audio book. I haven’t seen the paperback edition, but I assume, because of the correspondence formatting, it, too, would have been longer than average. But as we all know, the number of pages in a book is only a rough indication of how long it will take to read. Some books are relatively short, yet the language (either in terms of expression, or font size!) is so dense, we spend a long time on them. Others are veritable doorstops, but their simple expression and clear formatting mean we rip through them. I imagine that while The Divorce Papers is likely a thicker-than-average book, I don’t believe it was designed to take longer-than-average to read. If readers skim over the header information, and concentrate on the content between these headers, I imagine the novel would contain enough plot and character development to sustain it. As an audio book, however, I’m not sure the amount of content warrants 14 hours’ concentration.
This leads me to my second point, the proportion of time readers/listeners spend on the headers vs. the content.
While the average reader might spend, say, at most a second or two glancing over the headers to see who is writing to whom, when, and then, perhaps, fifteen to thirty seconds concentrating on the actual content, in the audio version, this ratio is often flipped on its head. You have to listen to thirty-five seconds worth of header information every time, before getting fifteen seconds of content in some cases. In other words, while the reader might spend less than 20% of their time looking at this type of content, as a listener, in parts, it feels like half of your time is listening to these details.
Finally, the ordering of content is an issue when a book like this is translated verbatim into an audio book. It’s not just the proportion of time that is spent on these details, but the fact that every piece of correspondence begins with them. Rather than whetting your appetite, hearing all of these repetitious and seemingly inconsequential details I found effectively switched my brain off before I got to the good details. We all tend to zone out when presented with information our brain tells us we’ve already heard. When reading, it’s easy for us to see this repetition and skip it, in listening, we cannot tell where we need to tune in again.
Paradoxically, by including everything the printed version does, in much the same way we might expect from auto-generated screen reader software, I believe the audio book actually reduces the authenticity experienced by the listener. That is, they are forced to, in many cases, spend longer dwelling on the boring details than on the actual message, when, in the written version, I strongly believe most readers would only glance over them.
Aside from an attempt at authenticity, only other reason I can think of for a publisher to adopt such an approach is economic. And I’m not just talking about not having to pay for the adaptation (I am uncertain whether that would even be a saving on the balance, when the kinds of adaptations I have suggested would result in a shorter book, and hence, fewer hours to compensate readers for).
From the most recent figures I’ve seen, Audible is now by far the industry leader of audio book retailers. And from what I understand, they pay creators by length. This may also explain how very slowly the readers seem to read (I usually listen to audio books on 1.25 or 1.5x speed, but even at double speed, The Divorce Papers sounded almost slow at times to me.
Even if big publishers like Crown have different pricing arrangements, and even if other platforms have different rules, I would imagine that most readers might consider a long book worth shelling out more for. So, I can’t really see a compelling reason for publishers to consider adaptations of works that might result in a more enjoyable experience for readers, but less money for them.
In sum, The Divorce Papers is a fascinating idea for a novel, with distinct voices, which are well matched with the readers, but because of the way it has been produced, I’m not confident that I have appreciated its characters or plot fully enough to review them.
August 20, 2021
Not great as an audiobook, since it is mostly in letter, memo, email form, with a LOT of letterhead... But ok overall
May 3, 2014
The one and only message this book manages to convey is that divorce boils down to money. But who among us didn't know that already? Lack of plot, lack of character development, and lack of actual storytelling take this book to the very top of my least liked books. I only finished this book to make sure I could write a thorough review.
The Divorce Papers is written in an epistolary style, that is, the story is told through documents rather than a narrative. The documents here are emails, interoffice legal memos, letters, and what seems like reams and reams of legal statutes and divorce negotiations. The use of the epistolary style is not novel and is very poorly executed here. The legal statutes and memos are extraneous, don't add value to the story, and are cumbersome and downright boring. Rieger is an attorney and clearly not a storyteller, and she deals with only what she is comfortable with: legal documents. This is the book's greatest weakness.
As for the story, Sophie, a lowly associate who works on criminal matters at a law firm, is assigned to work on a divorce. The divorce is between Maria Mather Meiklejohn (Mia), daughter of a very prominent father and family, and Daniel Durkheim, a doctor. They have a ten year old daughter, Jane. The paper trail is largely correspondence regarding divorce negotiations, how assets will be split and the parties' complaints against each other.
All the characters are flat and lifeless and not likeable in the least. Sophie is a whiny, irreverent attorney who takes too many liberties with her superiors, outrageously flirting and talking to her managing partner as if they were best friends and complaining endlessly about her life to her friend Maggie over email. Mia is just a tad more complex, but at least is aware of how her actions affect Jane. Daniel is made out to be a scumbag and basically doesn't recover from it. At 480 pages, I expected the characters to grow up, but they didn't. The only character I had any hope for was Jane, but she was largely silent in this book aside from a few letters she wrote and her interviews with the therapist (this whole report from the therapist is outrageous btw).
The worse part about this book is that it is written like a Divorce 101 Handbook. Readers: please take the legal premises in this book as fiction, relating only to the story at hand. No one should read this and assume they know how to handle their own divorce. Laws vary by states and though the underlying ideas may be the same (best interests of the child, alimony, child support, etc.), divorce cases are very fact based. There is no "one size fits all" divorce.
There are hundreds of thousands of books at there to read, and I guarantee you any of them would be a better read than The Divorce Papers.
The Divorce Papers is written in an epistolary style, that is, the story is told through documents rather than a narrative. The documents here are emails, interoffice legal memos, letters, and what seems like reams and reams of legal statutes and divorce negotiations. The use of the epistolary style is not novel and is very poorly executed here. The legal statutes and memos are extraneous, don't add value to the story, and are cumbersome and downright boring. Rieger is an attorney and clearly not a storyteller, and she deals with only what she is comfortable with: legal documents. This is the book's greatest weakness.
As for the story, Sophie, a lowly associate who works on criminal matters at a law firm, is assigned to work on a divorce. The divorce is between Maria Mather Meiklejohn (Mia), daughter of a very prominent father and family, and Daniel Durkheim, a doctor. They have a ten year old daughter, Jane. The paper trail is largely correspondence regarding divorce negotiations, how assets will be split and the parties' complaints against each other.
All the characters are flat and lifeless and not likeable in the least. Sophie is a whiny, irreverent attorney who takes too many liberties with her superiors, outrageously flirting and talking to her managing partner as if they were best friends and complaining endlessly about her life to her friend Maggie over email. Mia is just a tad more complex, but at least is aware of how her actions affect Jane. Daniel is made out to be a scumbag and basically doesn't recover from it. At 480 pages, I expected the characters to grow up, but they didn't. The only character I had any hope for was Jane, but she was largely silent in this book aside from a few letters she wrote and her interviews with the therapist (this whole report from the therapist is outrageous btw).
The worse part about this book is that it is written like a Divorce 101 Handbook. Readers: please take the legal premises in this book as fiction, relating only to the story at hand. No one should read this and assume they know how to handle their own divorce. Laws vary by states and though the underlying ideas may be the same (best interests of the child, alimony, child support, etc.), divorce cases are very fact based. There is no "one size fits all" divorce.
There are hundreds of thousands of books at there to read, and I guarantee you any of them would be a better read than The Divorce Papers.
October 8, 2014
This is a curious book. It's billed as a modern epistolary novel. It's the story of a young lawyer who ends up handling a somewhat messy divorce. It's told through a series of memos, e-mails, handwritten notes and other materials, many of which you would find in a lawyer's file. SO, for instance, there are a couple of (fictional) cases involving divorce law included. There are also worksheets for various settlement proposals.
It's a pretty easy read, but why on earth would I read the worksheets and the cases or, for that matter, the legal memos? I teach family law, so this stuff is right up my alley, but it doesn't advance the plot. Do I need to know/understand the (fictional) precedent for claiming part of a medical degree in a divorce?
Over all, this seems really light to me. Fine, but really just like a bit of fluff that might drift by, entertaining you only for a small while. Nothing will stay with me. So if you're in the mood, go for it. But skim the worksheets. Really.
It's a pretty easy read, but why on earth would I read the worksheets and the cases or, for that matter, the legal memos? I teach family law, so this stuff is right up my alley, but it doesn't advance the plot. Do I need to know/understand the (fictional) precedent for claiming part of a medical degree in a divorce?
Over all, this seems really light to me. Fine, but really just like a bit of fluff that might drift by, entertaining you only for a small while. Nothing will stay with me. So if you're in the mood, go for it. But skim the worksheets. Really.
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