Saucy, brash, irreverent— The Book Of Phoebe is an extraordinary novel about a young woman's six-month sojourn in Paris, where she has a baby, falls madly in love and discovers a great deal about the capacities of the human heart.
I was born and raised in Hartford, Connecticut and have lived in Connecticut all my life except for the two years I served as a Peace Corps volunteer on Mt. Cameroon, an active volcano rising nearly 14,000 feet above the equatorial sea. I have a fun family and a labradoodle named Saltalamacchia, also fun. "Salty," my first dog.
My grandparents on my father's side immigrated from the north of Italy, and on my mother's, Quebec. My fondest childhood memories are of sweltering summers blue-crabbing with my French-speaking grandfather from 5 a.m. until 5 p.m., my grandfather wearing a worn three-piece suit and cap, and me, my underpants. When I told my Italian grandfather that I would be going to Cameroon as a Peace Corps volunteer he told me there were very good grapes grown in Africa.
My brother was autistic, a savant, who would not allow singing, laughing, sneezing, electronic sound (including television, radio and anything that produced music), and the flushing of the toilet except when he was asleep and he never seemed to be asleep. He had a library of over two thousand books all on WWII. As his adjutant, I attained a vast pool of knowledge on such things as identifying fighter bombers from their silhouettes and why we dropped the atomic bomb. "To win the war," Tyler told me. "But it didn't work so we dropped another one. Victory at last."
The relationship with my brother was one of three influences on my writing; the second, my father's bedtime poetry and prose following the Our Father and Hail Mary. "My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings. Look upon my works ye mighty and despair!" The third influence was the shelf of classic children's literature my mother kept stocked with such gems as The Swiss Family Robinson, Bambi, Tom the Water-Boy, Silver Pennies, King Arthur and the Round Table, The Child's Odyssey. Somehow, The Bedside Esquire (1936) found its way to the shelf and I read the extraordinary short fiction within, including Hemingway's "The Snows of Kilimanjaro," Gallico's Keeping "Cool in Conneaut," Salinger's "For "Esmé with Love and Squalor," Hecht's "Snowfall in Childhood," and my favorite, "Latins Make Lousy Lovers," by Anonymous who turned out to be Helen Lawrenson, the only woman with a piece in the collection. (Sheesh.) Also in the collection was an excerpt from the novel, Christ in Concrete, by Pietro Di Donato, which so bowled me over that I decided then and there that I would be a writer, too, just like all the writers who wrote fiction for Esquire Magazine in 1936.
After Peace Corps service, I taught, worked as a librarian and got my first freelance writing job with Reader's Digest. The Digest editor assigned me sports and games for How to Do Just about Anything, a book which sold 50 million copies world-wide. Reader's Digest made a vast fortune on that book alone, while the writers earned $25 to $75 dollars per article. I learned economy of language writing such pieces as "How to Play Tennis" in fifty words.
In 2010, I was awarded the Diana Bennett Fellowship at the Black Mountain Institute at UNLV, where I wrote my most recent novel, The Honoured Guest: Anne Alger Craven, Witness to Sumter, in Her Words.
My work has been reprinted in several foreign languages. I have taught fiction and memoir writing at many venues including the Mark Twain House in Hartford, CT, and on the Aran Islands through the University of Ireland, Galway, and online via this website.
I spend time in Fall River, MA, where I took the tour of the Lizzie Borden house. By the time the tour had ended, I knew who killed Lizzie's parents and it surely wasn't Lizzie. The competition, however, is stiff. Since I started writing this novel, another novel with an entirely different take on the crime was published. And there is a film presently in the works, again, with another take altogether. I'll keep up my work on my own version, and I'm convinced, the real one.
Right now: On Sunday afternoon, April 15, 2018, I will p
First, I have never read a book by Mary-Ann Tirone Smith, who was recently at a writing workshop. I was surprised that the title of the book is The Book of Phoebe(My daughter's name is Phoebe and so I had to read it.) Second, remember that this was published in 1985 when everything was very different from today. The main character, Phoebe Desmond, is a gifted woman, a senior at Yale. She discovered that she is pregnant, and has no desire to keep the baby after its birth. Instead, Phoebe makes arrangements with her childhood friend, Marlys. Phoebe flies to Paris, and moves in with her longtime friend, Marlys (who is very wealthy from dancing.) Phoebe only wants to stay at Marlys until the birth, and then to fly back home with her secret. As she moves in and empties her luggage, she discovers Ben. He is handsome, independently wealthy, an artist, and he falls in love with Phoebe. The baby is born healthy and Phoebe is completely determined to give the child to the couple who cannot conceive. But Ben wants the child, and Phoebe refuses. Ben wants to keep their relationship even though they are now far apart. But Phoebe is determined to get home, so she, and her mother, can discuss their secret with each other.
This book was urged on my by my high school English teacher: "It's about Holden Caulfield's sister," he said. And so it was. You hate her and you love her, she insufferable and charming...it's like Gentlemen Prefer Blondes and The Dud Avocado with a sort of St. Regis bar twist. Lovely.
The phrase “dated, but good” describes this novel written in 1985 about an ambitious senior at Yale named Phoebe. When she discovers her pregnancy, she embarks on a journey to Paris to visit her best friend and to find a family that will adopt her child. Along the way, she falls madly in love and deepens her understanding of friendship, romance, and her familial relationships. Phoebe’s straightforward tone and flippant initially put me off, but a quarter of the way into the book, I found her voice more endearing and fun to read. Eventually, Phoebe’s realistic, comedic, and logical voice is balanced by just the right amount of a charmed and magical Parisian setting provided by Phoebe’s affluent, enigmatic friends. If you are in the mood for a not-too-sappy romance novel set in Paris, you might enjoy The Book of Phoebe.
This book is an imitation of J.D. Salinger’s “Catcher in the Rye.” Imitating Salinger is like imitating vomit: The original is foul and the copy is not only foul but also useless. I discovered “The Book of Phoebe” in a little free library in my neighborhood in D.C. and took it home with me because it quite literally had my name on it. The initial plot, while stale, has timeless appeal and had potential until ruined with a slap-dash sub-plot that usurps the novel’s appeal to reconciliation, familial bonds, feminism, and friendship.
A bit of a wacky book. The description I read said something like 'a college student unintentionally gets pregnant and goes to Paris to live with her best friend, have the baby and give it up for adoption'. It didn't say anything about half the book being a journal she wrote when she was younger. I got bored toward the end, started skimming rather than reading word for word.
I was drawn to this book because my sister's name is Phoebe. It lived up to all standards. The main character is witty, clever, and wonderful. It is a quick read that will leave you wanting more. It was my first Mary-Ann Tirone Smith book, and I will soon be seeking out another.
It was o.k. - Did not like the main character one bit, as an adult - she seemed like a pretty cool kid though. And I realize she was pregnant but she had a really bad case of "its-all-about-me-itis"
Loved the ending of it. If there was a second book I would definitely read it. Very slow-paced from the beginning but the end helped to really tie those loose ends.
I have the strangest feeling that I have read this book before…maybe! Actually, most of it seems new, but here and there I had flashes of having read bits and pieces. Phoebe is nineteen years old, brilliant, and already a senior at Yale when she becomes pregnant. She takes off for six months in Paris, to visit her lifelong best friend, Marlys, to have the baby in secret and give him or her up for adoption. Marlys, now a celebrity, finds Phoebe a place to stay with Ben, and Ben and Phoebe quickly fall in love. She shares her journals with him, to help him understand her better, and front and center is the story of Tyrus, a mentally challenged man, whom Phoebe loved, and whose tragic death she blames on herself. I found the whole book oddly compelling, in the sense that I was driven to read more and faster, to find out what would happen next. The plot, explained in review, makes little sense! And sometimes it is hard to discern what is real and what Phoebe imagines (or hopes) is true. Not a book to keep on the shelf, I think, but I enjoyed reading it.
This book definitely feels like a short story needlessly drawn out into a novel. There's a plot that presents as the main plot at first, but actually becomes a frame and mechanism to reveal this more important plot, revealed through Phoebe's journal. There are lots of Catcher in the Rye comparisons, both in call outs on the cover in in the text itself. As an author, that's a tall order to set for yourself, but I think the main problem is that the unreliability of the narrator is executed poorly. Whereas in Catcher in the Rye, there is the satisfaction of realizing the truth behind Holden's fabrications (without knowing exactly the truth behind everything), Book of Phoebe is too overt about the fact that the narrator is unreliable and over explains exactly which parts of the journal are fictional. Overall this is an enjoyable, quick read, but definitely not something deep enough to really sink your teeth into.
I had high hopes for this book. It started out fairly decently--easy to read and quick to get into the story. But, suddenly the author took a really odd tactic and inserted the main character's childhood creative writing assignment into the book. I read through it and past it. For the life of me I still couldn't figure out why. Perhaps if I decided to stay with it for some more pages I might have discovered the reason but the character's caustic tone and just general "unlikeability" wasn't enough to keep me interested. Catcher in the Rye--zero. The Book of Phoebe--zero.
I hated the main character, from the first word to the last. She's supposed to be this Yale genius, yet she makes the dumbest life choices and views the world in a haughty, ignorant fashion. She doesn't even seem to learn anything from anything that happens to her, and then she just goes back to "normal" life after her escapades. I would've much rather seen her fall from her pedestal, learn from her mistakes, and become learn how to be a decent human being who can exist peacefully with the world an herself, as opposed to being a judgmental c*nt all the time.
In high school we went to this women's studies event, and they had several female authors there and they talked about their books and such. I met Mary-Anne Tyrone Smith at the event. However it wasn't until much later that I read the book, but i thought it was a good read.
This book was pretty terrific! Witty, clever, bizarre and the female character is a strong feminist voice. I never would have read this brilliant book because I don't know if I ever would have heard of it but my manager lent it to me. She's got terrific taste!
Like another reviewer, I read this book because my daughter is named Phoebe. I would have rated this book a 3.5 had I not been apathetic to this Phoebe. She is a precocious, academically gifted woman, but she is devoid of a human heart as an adult. I enjoyed her journal more than her months in Paris. She was more human as a thirteen year old. I also cannot wrap my head around Ben falling in love with her instantaneously. I also do not understand the lifelong loyalty between Phoebe and Marlys. Phoebe seemed, to put it mildly, socially awkward and flighty, therefore I found it contrived how people trusted (and liked) her. She was somewhat redeemed at the end of the book with her one selfless act as an adult. I do like that she was an independent, focused woman in the 80's. Otherwise, I thought the young Phoebe was hilarious. Once I understood where this book was going, it flowed better for me and I am glad I read it.