Maeve Binchy has always been an author recommended to me, but this is the first time I’ve actually dedicated time to reading one of her books. Although she wrote for the Irish Times, her most popular works would fall under chick-lit or “comfort books”. Therefore, it’s fitting that my first Binchy read is also the very first book she ever wrote.
The first part of the book is rather absorbing. A young English girl is sent to Ireland because her parents fear for her safety during the London Blitz of World War II. Her mother had gone to school with an Irish friend, so Elizabeth, a very serious child, ends up in a little provincial village, very much different from her London home. Elizabeth is an only child of cold and indifferent parents, so her world is due for an upheaval when she settles in with the large, boisterous O’Connor clan. She becomes best friends with Aisling as they are almost the same age and it becomes clear this book will be all about their further adventures in life. The second part of the book is the adult part, as the two girls mature and move along. Characters move in and out and much of the fun of the earlier times vanish. The young women discover they are more like their parents than they ever thought and the fates seem set in place for all of us.
Okay. I’m a sucker. The book cover is green (Ireland) with a lovely little cottage that has smoke coming out of it. This is supposed to be a comfort read. Alas, the characters revolted me. Good lord, if these were meant to reflect the women of Ireland and England of the 1940s-1950s, well, I can see why Ireland was poor and the Brits lost their empire. I simply could not warm to any of the characters. And it’s all very soap-opera-ish. Events quickly happen with no reason but to move the story along. The father of Elizabeth is constantly belittled, although I couldn’t understand why. Male friends suddenly become husbands (?) overnight. What-the-heck. If these two women were alive today, they would be doing non-stop selfies and writing “woe-is-me” blogs all day long. Ugh.
My goal in 2021 was to read at least two romance/chick-lit books and I have now hit my goal. There’s a reason I have stayed away from this type of genre, but maybe I just chose the wrong titles. The good? Binchy writes tight. By that, I mean there are no long, superfluous lead-ins. I would like to read her book of columns for the Irish Times, as I can only surmise her non-fiction stories are better than her unreal romance ones.
Book Season = Spring (don’t be fooled by thatched cottages)