Having been such a big fan of Boyden's previous work, Pretty Little Dirty, I was somewhat disappointed by this. The story takes place in New Orleans and spans the time period from right before Hurricane Ivan until a few months before Katrina. Boyden introduces several narrators who all live on Orchid Street. Though few are acquainted at the beginning, their lives will intertwine in unexpected ways. Ed & Ariel are a married couple who moved from Minnesota because Ariel was hired to run a hotel. Next door lives the Ganesh family from India. On the other side of them are Joe and Philomenia, who likes to call herself Prancie. Prancie is not a big fan of the other side of the street, but spends lots of time observing their goings on. Over there live Roy and Cerise, African Americans in their 60's who have been residents of Orchid street for many years. Next door to them are the Harrises, whose young sons are involved in the sale of illegal substances and whose daughters all have babies. On the other side of them a house has been converted to a bar called the Tokyo Rose, which plays a pivotal role in the lives of several of these folks.
Ed, Ariel, Prancie, Cerise and Daniel "Fearius" Harris are our narrators, to whose inner monologue we are treated. Boyden gives each narrator a distinct voice, so we are able to understand who it is we are listening to, but this is sometimes disconcerting, especially in the case of Fearius. I can deal with a regional dialect when it's limited to the dialogue, but whole passages of the book pertaining to Fearius are nearly incomprehensible. In fact, I had to read this sentence from the first chapter several times: "Fearius like cold drinks better than malt liquor when they smokin the hydroponic, but Alphonse be inside Stumps for Colt 40s, and Fearius, his bankroll thin as a spliff now." I got more used to it, though, as the book went on.
Something interesting to note though, and I only noticed it myself as I read an article recently regarding this phenomenon, is that the white people and the young people are the most messed up, while the older black folks seem very wise and all-knowing. We really don't get much more than a glimpse of the East Indians, which was disappointing to me. It seems their function was to inject some mysticism and incense, then return to their home.
It sounds more like I'm complaining than praising this book, but I don't mean to. I really enjoyed reading it and was very much enthralled by the lives of these people. It must be difficult for a writer to get inside each of their heads like that, and Boyden pulls it off reasonably well.