In her first work of fiction in more than a decade, award-winning novelist Hilma Wolitzer brilliantly renders the intimate details of ordinary life and exposes a host of hidden truths. The Doctor’s Daughter is a haunting portrait of a woman coming to terms with her family history and the fallibility of memory.
One morning, Alice Brill awakes with a sudden awareness that something is wrong. There’s a hollowness in her chest, and a sensation of dread that she can’t identify or shake. Was it something she’s done, or forgotten to do? As she scours her mind for the source of her unease, she confronts an array of disturbing possibilities.
First, there is her marriage, a once vibrant relationship that now languishes stasis. Then there’s her idle, misdirected younger son, who always needs bailing out of some difficulty. Or perhaps Alice’s trepidation is caused by the loss of her career as an editor at a large publishing house, and the new path she’s paved for herself as a freelance book doctor. Or it might be the real doctor in her life: her father. Formerly one of New York’s top surgeons, he now rests in a nursing home, his mind gripped by dementia. And the Eden that was Alice’s childhood–the material benefits and reflected glory of being a successful doctor’s daughter, the romance of her parents’ famously perfect marriage–makes her own domestic life seem fatally flawed.
While struggling to find the root of her restlessness, Alice is buoyed by her discovery of a talented new writer, a man who works by day as a machinist in Michigan. Soon their interactions and feelings intensify, and Alice realizes that the mystery she’s been trying to solve lies not in the present, as she had assumed, but in the past–and in the secrets of a marriage that was never as perfect as it appeared.
Like the best works of Anne Tyler, Sue Miller, and Gail Godwin, The Doctor’s Daughter is private yet universal, luminous and revelatory–and marks the reemergence of a singular talent in American writing.
Hilma Wolitzer (b. 1930) is a critically hailed author of literary fiction. She is a recipient of Guggenheim and National Endowment for the Arts fellowships, an American Academy of Arts and Letters Award in Literature, and a Barnes & Noble Writers for Writers Award. Her first short story appeared in print when she was thirty-six. Eight years later she published her first novel. Her novels and stories have drawn praise for illuminating the dark interiors of the American home. She lives in New York City.
I’m a fan of Hilma Wolitzer’s work, and I think of her as an American treasure, still writing and working in her 90s. I’ve been lucky enough to know that she has read several of my reviews of her work, and I’ve even had the favor of a response from her.
But, having shared that, I’m still compelled to tell you: Please, read Ms. Wolitzer’s work, just leave THE DOCTOR’S DAUGHTER on the library shelf right where you found it!
As always, this author’s character development is exceptional. I didn’t doubt ANY of these characters. I thought that any of them could step right off of the pages and have coffee with me.
And that’s just what they’d do, they’d step out of the book and have coffee with me, or they’d discuss the bus schedule with me, or they’d eat something really stinky like a deviled egg or a shrimp salad with me. (Why, oh why does any writer perceive a hard boiled egg or a deviled egg as a sexy food item? Could anything be more repulsive than watching someone eat a hard boiled egg??)
Everything is far too mundane in this novel, which, with sharper editing, might have been a tight novella in a greater collection of stories. I just didn’t find enough material here to warrant a novel. Even the “big” reveal, the topic the story is centered around, isn’t hardly anything of note. By the time Ms. Wolitzer pulls the curtain down on the “big secret” in the story, the feeling is: So? You dragged me over here to tell me that??
So much bellyaching over nonsense, too. The affluent couple here (Alice and Ev) are so damned worried that one of their three young adult kids isn’t going to go to medical school OR law school (Oh, horrors!). Is this really a plot point? In WHOSE world?
And, Ms. Wolitzer, you know I love you, lady, but what’s up with the incest?? This is now my 6th novel of yours, and I think it’s been in every one of your books. I don’t mean an exploration of the DAMAGE that incest can cause a family; I mean the glorification of it! I don’t understand why you and John Irving think that incest is so damned sexy! When my brother comes here in the off-season and helps me with my plants and trees, if we so much as bump elbows, we’re ready to throw up on each other. No, I never wanted to have sex with my father OR my brother, or any male relative, and thank God I’m not tortured by such a thought.
And, while I’m being honest: Ms. Wolitzer, you must have had a robust sex life with your husband, because, hot damn, do your married characters have a LOT of sex! I’m surrounded by people in their 50s, and I can’t even remember the last time one of them mentioned a sexual encounter with their partner. Do people even have sex anymore? If so, who are they? Good God, if any of these fictional characters in Ms. Wolitzer’s novels go more than a handful of weeks without having hot sex with their spouses, they start seeing psychiatrists. No, seriously. Weeks? You’ve got to be kidding me.
Way too much “filler” in this novel, for me, even though I did keep turning pages, compelled by the solid characters and the author’s savage knack for one-liners: Memory is a benevolent editor.
I love so much of Hilma Wolitzer's work, particular her edgy offerings from the 1970s, novels like IN THE FLESH and ENDING. I’m also particularly fond of a later offering (written after this novel): AN AVAILABLE MAN.
This novel gives us a great sense of New York City, and these wretched spoiled characters feel fully formed, but I think most readers would have a better time with one of her other stories.
The best thing I can say about this book is that it wasn't very long. I found the whole thing too mundane. And yes, I get that that point is that we are looking behind the scenes into a woman with a supposedly perfect life (daughter of a doctor, successful career, long marriage with 3 kids) and that things are not what they seem. I much prefer Didion's work (and its realism) to this, though if I want to think about the cracks in the perfect facade.
The whole plot was contrived and stupid; everyone comes together at the art show at the end of the novel (include both of her "works in progress" Micheal and Ruth); Micheal moves to NY (and yet, he's a cute puppy and not a stalker?); Suzy announces her engagement the same night that the kids find out that Ev and Al are separated. As if all of that wasn't enough, she is also obsessed (and yes, I mean really obsessed) with not only her parents (both mom and dad), but their "perfect" marriage. The whole tension in the book is that she wakes up one morning feeling uneasy and as if there is some impending doom: no shit, Alice you are a spoiled bitch who has lived a charmed life; keep acting like an entitled princess and you will bring doom upon your head.
Also, I found a minor editing problem which just bugged me. Wolitzer goes to great lengths to describe how Alice dumps the odds and ends from the yellow bowl prior to using it as an ashtray with Micheal. And yet, she later describes the same ashtray as having migrated to Ev's apartment.
Overall it would have been a decent waiting room book; not quite sexy enough for a beach vacation, but good company in a loud, uncomfortable location. Nothing profound, nothing interesting, but an okay enough way to pass the time.
For the first two-thirds of the book, I enjoyed the meandering way of writing, the way that she would talk about the present and then reminisce on the past. But I was bugged with her (her who? the author? the protagonist?) when Everett left and Alice had an affair. Is it really that simple after twenty-plus years of marriage to leave and then to be unfaithful? I just couldn’t wrap my head around it. You don’t stick together for that long to flush it away after an argument. You apologize, you make it right. But, I understood better, when it was explained at the end, “But I think now that our separation was probably in the making during all those years, the way a pearl forms inside an oyster, one grain of irritation at a time.” And yet, I was still bugged. Beyond my annoyance at infidelity, what did I think of the book? As I said before, I enjoyed the meandering style and the pauses to reminisce. However, I was fairly annoyed with the protagonist, Alice, that she couldn’t just apologize and accept the things that she had done wrong and that she kept messing things up all over the place. Thank goodness she’s fictional and I’ll forget about her in a few days. It’s too bad, because I did like her at first.
I think I'm in the minority here giving this book 5 stars. Nevertheless, if you are in the right audience for this book - probably female, middle aged, married with grown children - then I would definitely recommend it to you.
Alice, our protagonist, wakes one morning to a strange feeling in her chest. Trying to figure out what is wrong, Alice looks sharply at her parents and their marriage, her own marriage, her children, and the professions of her father, mother, herself and her husband. The mystery of what is causing this heaviness of heart is what drives the plot of the novel.
But what really drives this novel is Wolitzer's spot on (I'm not British, but that seems to be the right phrase) writing. The characters are all real, and most are likable. In other words, she's also a sympathetic, intelligent author, at least in this book.
It also means that she has enough intelligent insights into the human psyche - she sort of seemed to me that she would be a good sub for Dear Abby now and then. As Alice said toward the end "love was always a reasonable prospect."
I expect that Wolitzer believes in love and has a big, red-blooded heart (see novel).
The book starts out with Alice, the doctor's daughter, feeling something wrong in her chest. She is 50 something and dealing with a rocky marriage to Ev, three kids growing up, and a father with dementia. She struggles in her profession, feeling like she did not measure up to her father the doctor. Currently she is working as a freelance book editor and in doing so, runs into someone with talent, Michael.
When the sensation in her chest doesn't go away, she returns to therapy, back to Dr. Stern. She tries to deal with her mother's early death and tries to remember something eating away at her from her childhood. She questions her father, with dementia, with no positive results. She remembers going to Dr. Stern when she was a child because she kept blinking excessively. The truth comes out during her therapy, and Alice comes to terms with it. She decides not to confide in her husband about certain things, realizing it would only hurt him and the story ends. OK reading, but found Alice to be quite narcissistic.
Well, I've always liked Hilma and came across this one doing a search for "Anna Fields" who is a wonderful audio book performer now, alas, dead. Drowned in her own cellar. Tragic and awful thing.
She did Last Report of the Miracles at Little No Horse, in my top ten books ever, and a couple more of Erdrich's wonderful novels.
Anyway, Wolitzer's novel is about Alice, a book editor, formerly with a publishing house, now freelancing (I'm a freelance writer and editor) so felt a connection that way. I also like the way she isn't linear, but tracks back and forth from today to recent and distant past while following a thread of thought or personal history with another person who had appeared in the novel.
Personal and marital difficulties, adult children and even a therapist, all create an authentic, believable character. Strictly character driven rather than plot driven and while I enjoy the latter, I really prefer the former.
I feel like a good friend just moved far, far away after finishing the book The Doctor's Daughter by Hilma Worlitzer. This story beautifully described the emotional journey of a 50-something woman trying to understand her life. From her adult children to the passing of her parents, she fights cobwebs to comprehend it all. What is her life really about? Why does the passing of her parents propel the orphaned adult child into extended reflection on the relationship of their marriage to her marriage? As she loses herself among the cobwebs, will she be able to live with the truths that she discovers? The cast of likable characters and the compelling story line caused me to read more slowly to prolong the end of a very good story.
This was another bad choice for me. If I were looking for a modern novel about people's lives set in Manhattan it would have been fine. But I'm more of a genre reader and the blurb led me to believe that I was looking at a psychological thriller when in reality it was just a book about a wife and mother who clarifies an old memory about her parents' marriage. Not a page-turner and the secret turns out to be something that I saw coming early on. Just not my sort of thing.
I almost stopped reading, but I have a hard time abandoning a book. I kept reading and it did get more interesting, but with so many other books to read, I wouldn't recommend spending time with this one. Somewhat predictable and not that great of writing.
This is one of those amazing books that is enjoyable to read yet also quite deep. It's very subtle in how it deals with important themes yet glides along so smoothly it never feels heavy. The writing is beautiful, almost sensuous, but also clear. One of her best.
My dearly departed mother had a saying, “Beautiful things from beautiful minds”. Though sage words from saintly women are often innocently misplaced and then forgotten without cause or consequence, I feel somewhat indebted to Hilma Wolitzer for re-connecting me with one of mom’s lost gems.
In her latest work, The Doctor’s Daughter, Wolitzer invites us into the head of the spoiled and emotionally costive Alice Brill, the fifty-one year old daughter of a once prominent New York surgeon now struggling with Alzheimer’s, to witness the complexities of daily life and the burdens matters of love, family, marital infidelity, and one’s own health bring to bear. When Alice wakes one morning with an uneasy sensation in her chest that something is wrong, she’s unsure whether it’s the beginning of breast cancer, a dark specter that perennially haunts her family, or a portent of some other evil to come. The scope of possibilities include her youngest son, Scott, who seems enamored with the notion of self-destruction, her father, a dim shadow of his once brilliant self now fading into nothingness at a nearby nursing home, or her husband, Ev, who like Alice functions daily under a shroud of misery brought down by a failed writing career. Of course, there is Michael – a younger man and first time novelist who fate has segued into Alice’s life when she agrees to edit his manuscript to uncover its true potential. And that seems to be the underlying theme in this evocatively written, triumph of a novel; the process of uncovering – uncovering the hidden meanings of dreams, uncovering distant memories of long ago events that may hold truths that are relevant and impactful today, uncovering to simply better understand the mysteries of the self.
To call The Doctor’s Daughter balanced or its characters human would be a conspicuous, if not unfair, understatement when the work is so much more than that. Yes, the characters weep, laugh, worry, and are sometimes filled with rage. That’s a given and obviously must be. But, it is Wolitzer’s mastery in subtly imbuing her characters with seemingly inconsequential imperfections that we must uncover that makes them perfect and causes us to ask, “How well do we really know our parents?”
The Doctor’s Daughter, I feel obliged to say, is a novel for mature minds and by this I certainly do not mean individuals reaching the pinnacle of their years. Surely not – there is something in this work for everyone: men included. However, readers who are able to maintain and develop complex thoughts (no attempt at humor here), who have children, and possess an extensive catalog of life experiences may find this book particularly enjoyable. I just love a beautiful mind. And, as for the things they produce… well, you get the picture.
There's a lot of "doctoring" in this book, and I found that it had a clinical, detached edge. Alice, as a book editor, of course tries to remain objective with her projects, and as a reader we barely know much about them except for her thoughts on their tone and syntax. But, especially in the beginning, I felt like this was the case for her actual life, too. She was defined by a strained marriage, an ailing father and a turbulent son on the cusp of adulthood--when she insisted to her friend, Violet, that she had an additional sense of foreboding, it felt a bit indulgent. Then the root of this foreboding turned out to be a suppressed event from the past, as foreshadowed by the memory of a childhood eye tick problem. This seemed sloppy to me--like we needed this buried, largely disconnected memory, and especially the dramatic affectation of an eye tick, because the character wasn't internally fortified enough on her own.
With time, I grew to appreciate the dalliances in Alice's present life--her affair, both personal and professional, with Michael; navigating a separation with her husband while still attempting to out on a face for their children; gaining new understanding of her long-deceased mother as she examines the other woman's poetry; even her sessions with her therapist, as she teased her thoughts out. Speaking of clinical thinking, I was personally annoyed by, but logically understood the characterization, of Alice's neediness; that in many ways her life was defined by being coddled. So many of her relationships were codified by these imbalances--she was the pampered daughter of a rich doctor (does any grown woman call her father "Daddy" without a feeling of dependency?). She and her husband, Ev, started as writing rivals, an archetypal precursor to romance. Then they spent a fair bit of time battling over their respective parenting styles of their flailing son, Scotty.
I enjoyed this dip into Alice's life, but I didn't feel deeply connected to her; she wasn't realized enough for me. Maybe that was the point of this multi-faceted midlife crisis of sorts; she was trying to find herself. But I didn't find it entirely thought provoking or enlightening, which is my hope for reading novels. Barring, of course, Alice's experience in the editing and publishing words; that certainly grabbed my interest, hee.
From the outside, Alice Brill's life looks good: financially secure, happily married, successful kids, interesting work. But one day she wakes up with a hollow feeling of dread lodged in her chest, and Wolitzer's novel tells the story of Alice's search to find out what is wrong. Along the way, we discover deeper truths about 50-something Alice. She's never really gotten over the death by breast cancer of her 50-something mother, a poet whose writing career always came third after her surgeon husband and only child. Alice and her husband, Everett, were aspiring writers who gave up their writing when pregnancy forced an early marriage. Two of their three children have turned out well -- a lawyer and a classical musician -- but the youngest barely finished high school, has no hope of going to college, and is living on his own supported by the bank of Mom and Dad. Her once-brilliant father has mostly disappeared into dementia and is confined to a nursing home which she finds ghastly to visit. And her job as a book doctor helping aspiring writers was unwelcome make work she dreamed up after a wrenching layoff from the publishing house where she'd edited for years. Alice's search unfolds over about six months and the quest offers a mystery that helps propel the reader through the story, which provides a nice panorama of contemporary Manhattan life. Lots of things happen to Alice in those six months, but to most of them -- even pivot points that are transformational -- her reaction is pretty low-key. Once Alice find the source of her dread, she's able to make the obvious (to the reader) adjustments necessary to go on with her life, with the inside now looking as good as the outside. In the book, Alice once or twice refers to her problem as "a midlife crisis," but I think it's more apt to call it a marital crisis. And as a marital crisis, it fits the classic mode of empty nesters whose problems don't become apparent until the last chick has flown, leaving them alone together. I mention this only because Wolitzer doesn't, which seemed a glaring oversight to me. This is a somber, low-key novel, well-written with nicely-drawn characters and enough plot to keep things interesting.
A woman with 3 grown children, a husband she seems to love and who loves her but they fight all the time anyway, wakes up one morning with a bad feeling in her chest, a feeling of anxiety. She thinks it is related to her mother but can't figure out why as she had a very ideal kind of childhood. She goes into therapy, tries to figure out what is bothering her and otherwise continues her life. Part of her life is her father, a former top surgeon who is now in the old age home with dementia. She tries to get him to give her clues about her mother and thus solve her own anxiety. I didn't find the story very compelling, although sometimes the author is very funny in that she is spot on in her observations and has a good way of writing what she sees. There was one above average point in the book and that is when she realizes the truth of what is bothering her. It gave me a little shock. I think I would have reacted differently than the main character, but I appreciated the way the discovery was written. I suppose we were supposed to connect the past and the present, what was going on in the parents relationship and what was going on in her own marriage, but I didn't find myself willing to make that connection and forgive the main character her flaws.
This was a re-read. This book resides on a shelf in my bedroom due to an unfortunate water glass accident with a cat necessitating my purchasing the book from the library. Especially now that I'v re-read after some years, no regrets! I read Hilma Wolitzer before discovering her daughter Meg, and enjoy reading them both thoroughly. As with any good book (fiction or non-) you experience it differently depending on what is happening in your own life. When I first read it I don't think that dementia hit as close to home as it does now. This is a complex novel that is richer than most of its size and it impressed me more on my second reading than my first. I wonder if this isn't always true. How can we expect to hear all the nuances if we hear a song once? The same may be true for novels. I love that this is about mature long-married adults, and about being an adult only child.
The jacket cover caught my eye and caused me to pick it up. Then the first sentence..."The moment I awoke I knew that something was terribly wrong." Then the second sentence had a wonderful simile that told me that this author was good. This book kept me pulled in although I was annoyed with the protagonist's actions at some points and felt her to be selfish and spoiled. I do not think people, especially married people, should engage in a new relationship BEFORE the old one is finished although I know people do it all the time. Trust is too critical and precious in a relationship. Nonetheless, I was compelled to stay to the end because of the elusive "something wrong" feeling.
I was really enjoying the first part of the book. The writing style was refreshing, the story interesting and I kept on reading, wanting to know what the protagonist, Alice, was going to do next. However, things went downhill after Alice decided to have an affair with some guy whose writing she really liked. That was unbelievable and, in my opinion, rather out of character. I also feel like we got to know too little about the other characters in the book. It took off with a promising start, but turned out to have a disappointing end.
I thought Wolitzer's writing voice is very familiar and comfortable. The struggle of the main character is familiar to me, even though I'm not 51 like Alice. I thought, though, to minimize Alice's struggles as being "mid-life crisis" seemed demeaning. It's akin to saying that she was just being overly emotional because it was 'her time of month'. Alice mentions Madame Bovary in passing at one time, and it is, in a way, a modern telling.
Alice is refeshingly flawed and self indulgent, but you don't hate her. She's just real.
Not thrilled with the novel, possibly because I am not in a position to relate. The repercussions of the dream are interesting but not enough to redeem the novel. After finding myself wanting to scan ahead within the first chapters, I barely managed to finish the book. That was more out of obsession to never leave a book unfinished than anything else.
The characters were not horrible, although I feel a bit common, and the way in which the main character comes to understand herself through trying to determine who her parents was good but not stellar.
I was disappointed in this book. It's the story of a 50 something woman, Alice, looking back at her parent's marriage as she is going through a difficult time in her marriage. As we often do with the past she has idealized it. When she goes into therapy and works through what she remembers she learns the past wasn't as she remembered. All in all, I found the writing was good but the story pretty ordinary and predictable.
Oh, this one is a chore. Rave reviews by critics and lots of folks on goodreads so I'm determined to finish listening, but I don't like the narrators voice. And it's late getting back to library. When I've finished, I'm sure I'm going to regret that late fee. FINISHED IT! I hate I let my dislike of narrator's voice distract from the story, but I honestly think it wasn't a storyline I would rave about. I think the writing was good, but there was something lacking for me.
Wolitzer creates some characters that you want to follow, with adult children issues, a father who is becoming demented, and a lingering pain in her heart over something she can't quite put her finger on. Having lost her mother while in grad school, she wants to come to terms with things she never understood. As a result of all these mid-life swirling stresses, Alice Brill finds herself in some surprising situations. Worth reading and discussing.
Read An Available Man and enjoyed her writing style. This book was ok. Here's just a few of the quotes I liked. True memories often require collaboration, or at least confirmation by another witness, preferably one in his right mind.
It was the saddest event of my life, even though no one had died; maybe because no one had died. By the time we got to the nursing home, I wanted nothing more than to turn my father back over to his keepers. You would think there was a bounty on his head.
A definite three star read ... her writing is good, but at times a little too stream of consciousness for me - the narrator got on my nerves on occasion but the book still held my interest. Some of the psychological issues that were raised interested me a lot but didn't entirely live up to their potential. A nice way to pass a subway ride and the language was enjoyable.
Decent. The story line and characters were relatable, but towards the end it was like the author lost sight of where the story was going. I didn't find that there was much resolution of the orginal problem, and those issues that she seemed to present as very deep and confusing, she seemed to solve in less than a paragraph, which was very disappointing and left me a little confused.
Not what I expected. I thought this would be more of a medical novel about relationships in a doctor’s family & how they’re impacted by his profession. Not so. It’s all about her and her issues, which include her relationship with her ailing father but all from her perspective. I appreciated the author’s skill in the use of language and the use of subtle humor to lighten up the story a bit