I held onto this book for over ten years before reading it, and spent the last several days installed in this engrossing, beautiful, tender and unsentimental novel about the family we create, and the one we can’t let go. The narrator, Daley, takes us through three personal decades, from the 1970s until 2008, and every word, sentence, and passage is resonant and bare. I thought Euphoria was my favorite of her novels, but this one is so spectacular and emotionally loaded, but with the lightest of eloquent touches, that I bow to King’s ability to bring me to my knees.
In some ways this novel was deeply personal to me. Deduct the Harvard, the drinking, and the WASP bigot, and my own father emerges. The way that Daley’s father, Gardiner, treated her mother reminded me of how my father pointedly vitiated my mother after their divorce. I grew up in Massachusetts, beaches were a prominent place for us, and I could palpate the novel’s vibe of the country club set.
Even though Gardiner was a WASP and bigot, and my family was Jewish, my father would almost smirk like Gardiner when Gardiner said, like a mantra, “I wonder what the poor people are doing today.” My father didn’t use those exact words, but he had that same outlook, that only the wealthy matter. Charm, chauvinism, sexism, and snobbery were part of Gardiner’s (and my father’s) character. My father’s addiction was women; Gardiner’s is alcohol.
Daley respected her mother’s open and compassionate worldview, but she often struggled to keep both her mother and father in one frame. As a young girl, it was difficult to balance her love for both of them, so much was the tension between the two parents. Daley’s parents divorced when she was eleven (I was ten), and I remember the gutted feelings of a child of divorce expressed by Daley--wanting to be in my mother’s world, but feeling overshadowed and judged by my father. Needing his love and support, too, but it was always his to take away.
As an adult, Daley made a life for herself in Michigan, far from her roots, and created her own “family” and sense of community. She has the love of her life standing by her, a true best friend, and a career about to skyrocket in academia. Her brother calls her that her father is essentially broken, at rock bottom, and Daley has to make some split-second, hair-raising decisions. There were times I wanted to cry out, to save her from herself, and I almost believed I could reach her, whisper my advice, change the text.
This book seared me, like hot ice, and sliced my nerve endings, carved through to my soul, eating little nibbles of me on the way. Within the piercing narrative I also felt hope, though, inching its way into my heart. King’s precision and detail made it vivid, and her epic story was relatable and universal, about what it means to love and suffer a family.
“…none of my knowledge will help me win a fight with my father. He will cling to his position even when all reason fails him; he will cling to it as if it’s his life and not his opinion that is in peril. He will get vicious and personal, and every negative thing he ever felt about me will pour out of his mouth. …His prejudices are a stew of self-hatred, ignorance, and fear. If those feelings could be rooted out and examined, maybe he wouldn’t have to drink so much to squelch the pain of them.”