So listen — I don’t really know what I just read, but I do know that it gave me mild emotional whiplash and flashbacks to every single holiday dinner with my family.
The plot (if we’re calling it that) follows Miranda, a tired actress with no peace, who visits her elderly parents at their crumbly countryside estate in France. Sounds cute, right? NOPE. It’s like if a dusty British sitcom met a French farm full of regret and freezer-burned trauma. There are llamas. There’s a freezer full of frozen mystery meat. There’s passive aggression so thick you could butter it and serve it with scones.
Her dad’s a retired philosopher who speaks only in annoying tangents and impossible logic loops. Her mom’s a guilt-trip Jedi who still talks about “the war” like she fought in it personally (spoiler: she didn’t). Miranda basically shows up, referees their marital cage match, tries not to scream, and then emails her sister with the classic sign-off: “the usual desire to kill.” Honestly, relatable.
The book flips back and forth between Miranda’s visits, her emails, and a pile of her mom’s old letters — which, if I’m being honest, just made things more confusing. I spent most of the time trying to figure out who was talking, what decade we were in, and whether this whole thing was secretly a fever dream.
Here’s the thing: it’s well-written in a look-how-clever-I-am kind of way, but half the time I felt like I was trapped in a never-ending dinner party where everyone’s speaking in riddles and no one will pass the wine. That said, there were moments that genuinely made me snort-laugh, especially if you’ve ever tried to help your boomer parents with literally anything.
Would I recommend it? If you like literary chaos, unresolved emotional baggage, and arguing about hip replacements, sure. If you’re looking for a coherent plot or inner peace, maybe… read literally anything else.
Still, despite the confusion and frustration, it felt weirdly like home. So maybe that’s the point? Families are messy, aging is wild, and sometimes, love looks a whole lot like yelling about lawn care and hoarding frozen peas from 1987.