Without Alice opens with the birth stories of three people - well, four, if you count Marcel - and goes on to weave the tale of how their lives are interconnected. We first meet Jennie and Stephen, unhappily married with a newborn son. Jennie does her best to take care of the baby, the house, and deal with all of the crapola that comes her way (including a home invasion) despite Stephen's treatment of her, which ranges from emotionally distant to outright hostile. Eventually, we find out why Stephen is behaving the way he is; enter the title character. When tragedy strikes, to paraphrased a peripheral character, "the chickens finally come home to roost".
What I liked: This novel was a real page-turner. I'm pretty sure I finished it in one night. The characters themselves are extremely well-developed. I admire Ms. Kirkby's ability to make me feel strongly for them, even if it was a strong negative emotion. I understand Ms. Kirkby is (or was?) a midwife by profession, and this is evident in the detailed descriptions of the births, the hospitals, the post-natal appointments. I could actually see and feel the green-tiled government hospital room Jennie stayed in (I've been there, too). Finally, I couldn't help but notice the deliberate ambiguity of the gender of the couple at the end. That was kinda neat.
What I didn't like: There were a couple of WTF moments here and there. For example, about two-thirds of the way through we meet a character named Maggie Stowerby, who is described in detail, has a few things to say from her own POV, and disappears a few chapters later. What happened to her? There's also a few allusions to baby Marcel having developmental issues, but this isn't resolved and we never hear about it again. I also thought that the entire Prologue was nice but largely unnecessary to the rest of the story. Finally, without giving too much away, I felt that the ending was just a little too neatly happily-ever-after for (almost) everyone. I so wanted Stephen to experience the full consequences of his actions; to feel some semblance of remorse for the giant mess he made. I wanted there to be some kind of poetic justice for Jennie. Real life isn't fair, I suppose, but it did leave me feeling kinda frustrated.
In conclusion, this book is like a piece of candy: not much nutritional value, but sweet and goes down fast. :)