Category Archives: Literature in the Lymes

“Loving Frank” by Nancy Horan

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At the beginning of the last century two people fell in love.  Mamah (nickname for Martha) Bothwick Cheney and Frank Wright.

Frank LLoyd Wright, that is.

Theirs was a meeting of the minds.  A whirlwind of passion and creativity that brought out their truest selves.

Unfortunately, they were both married to other people and both had young children.  This did not stop them in their desperate need to be together.  To be alive, to be themselves, to break free of tradition and flee the restraints of polite society.
This was a problem for me.  I found their immediate lives insightful and somewhat interesting.  If you are a fan of FLW architechture you may enjoy the book.I, however, am not.In principal, I admire what he is trying to achieve by capturing the essence of, “a huge block of blue on top of a block of gold prairie, and the quiet line between Heaven and earth.”  His artistic desires are exuberant, but I found the utter selfishness of their egotistical jaunt dispiriting.

The flourishing spirit of invention of the age led itself to a freedom previously unacceptable for women.  It must have been startling to live in this period of growth.
1889 saw the invention of the automobile.  1898 the telephone.  In 1902 in Australia, women were given the right to vote – 18 years ahead of the United States, which passed the 19th Ammendment in 1920.  Technological change can not help but have social manifestations.
Mamah specifically was acting on a desire to be something more than a wife and mother.  She meets and works with Ellen Key, a liberal, socialistic feminist who, ironically, did her early work in support of children.To follow her desire, Mamah abandons her three young children.  She abandons her husband to search for herself and to cultivate the powerful attraction she has to Frank.  Loving Frank is going to enrich and destroy her life, and the lives of many, many others.
Nancy Horan writes an imaginative, fictitious story from the letters of Mamah.  She does a brilliant job capturing an interior maelstrom of conflicting emotions and makes Mamah appealing.  Were we not so disgusted with her behavior, her intellectual pursuits would be fascinating.Under any other circumstance the journey of a woman to find fulfillment and independence would be gripping.  Her egomaniacal behavior, however, soundly defeats any interest I might otherwise have had in her.
Frank is equally unappealing.  Not as a chararcter, but as a human being.  His architectural genius aside, he is a selfish arrogant man, who never concerns himself with his fiscal or emotional responsibilities to anyone other than Mamah.  His bills are unpaid.  His family vilified.  His only concern is the happiness he is sure he deserves more than anyone else.
I found him maddening.  I felt constricted by the very man whose work is said to be freedom itself.I will say that Nancy Horan is a great writer and that the idea behind “Loving Frank” is compelling.  If you can read “Loving Frank“ as a social commentary or as a view into the trials of artistic temperament, it is worth reading.For myself, it was tedious and, by the time of the gruesome conclusion, I could not have cared less …  and was thrilled to be done with it.

“Garlic and Sapphires” by Ruth Reichl

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Honestly, I would read anything written by Ruth Reichl.

In fact, I have, and I highly recommend them all.  But Garlic and Sapphires is my favorite.

Ruth Riechl is equal parts wonderful cook and enchanting food writer.

She was the food editor at the LA times before she came to The New York Times as their Restaurant Critic. This is where we meet her.

She relocates home to New York and the fun begins.

After an amusing encounter on a plane, Ruth realizes that everyone knows she’s coming.  Every restaurant has a photo and a frightening amount of personal information about her posted in their kitchens.  They want to see her coming and she wants them not to.
To properly critique a restaurant she has to be incognito.  She has to be privy to the treatment and food that everyone receives, not just the esteemed New York Times.  How could any review be authentic and reliable otherwise?
A whirling dervish of wigs, make-up and second hand outfits ensues.  Ruth Reichl will dine as herself on many occasions, but on many more, she will be someone else.
She will be charcters older, younger, more fiery and … egads, her own mother.
While this makes for hilarity, it is also cleverly introspective.  We meet all the parts of Ruth Reichl.  These varied persona are terrific, but it is hard to compete with the food.  I defy you to read any part of this and not want to rush into the City immediately.Can you imagine the fun of dining at Aquavit five or six times concurrently and with a corporate tab?  Waiter!
Every restaurant is its own adventure, a stampede of gastronomical luxuries.  She alternately slinks and parades into Daniel, Lespinasse, 21, Kurumazushi, Jean-Georges, The Box Tree, the Four Seasons, Smith and Wollensky and others …Oh, the decor!  The waitstaff!  The food!  It is all described in mesmerizing detail.  We know what Ruth wears, where she is seated, who is nearby, how the napkins are folded, the wines she uncorks and what she eats – course by course by course.  She dictates the smells, the tastes, the feeling of every morsel.Truly, it is tantalizing.  It is almost as good as being at the table with her.  Ruth tells the story of the meal and then, if we’re really lucky, she prints her review, and we feel an insider’s glee at having been privy to her information gathering.
Her colleagues are well described and her family relationship is a good touchstone.  I especially enjoyed her doorman and his reactions to her various disguises.  Hint – he likes redheads.We have a very comforting base to work from and a solid foundation makes her forays exciting, rather than dangerous.  She has ups and downs and takes the entire experience with a grain of salt.  Pun intended.Ruth comments in one review how pompous and exclusionary she feels, but her devotees come to the same conclusion we have; that it is better to be there with her than not at all.

“Stripped”/”Without Warning” by Eugenia Lovett West

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When we first encounter Emma Streat, she is quiet.  She is reserved and thoughtful while she contemplates the restructure of her empty nest.  Sleigh beds in the guest room?  Another place setting of Henriot’s Quimper china?  The most gruesome event is the terrier catching a bunny.

Her corporate husband is busy at work.  Her sons are off to college and Emma, the housekeeper, and the dog remain home quietly gardening in Connecticut.

Not for long.
Emma’s husband is murdered and the book starts to pick up speed.  The calm complacency is rapidly replaced by a maelstrom of activity with Emma firmly in the center.Initially against her will, and then by choice, she changes herself.  The slightly vapid woman, to whose inner strength only vague allusions were made, stands up and says to the world, “Bring it on!”

She is bound and determined to find out what has happened to both her husband and her life.  She will hunt down the men who did this and she will not take no for an answer when the powers that be recommend she put her head in the sand.  Her husband’s company has been infiiltrated and the security issues have very dangerous repurcussions throughout the world.There are more deaths and, as facades crumble, Emma follows a path of clues.  We follow Emma to England, both to London and Cambridge, and then back to Connecticut.

What could be a voyeuristic view into the world of the private jets, ambassadors’ dinners ,manor houses, and black leather pants over 40, is very forthright and engaging.  Ms. West has created a wonderfully believable, likable character in Emma.  Indeed in many of her characters.It seems entirely reasonable that she be involved and we’d like her less if she were not.  How could you sit by and wait for answers?  Well, many people would … but not our Emma.

All the while, she is trying to maintain a modicum of style and dignity while venturing into a new world.  As the title suggests, she has been ‘stripped’ of her safety net and rises admirably to the challenge of reversing the transmogrification of her life.
Assassins lurk behind smiling faces, and poison hides in safe places.  Emma is in constant danger and we are barely able to put the book down as the plot moves faster and more cleverly toward its climactic ending.My personal opinion is that Mrs West had best get cracking at her desk.  Waiting for the second installation in The Emma Streat mystery series is going to be arduous….

“The Girl Who Stopped Swimming” by Joshilyn Jackson

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One hot, summer night, Laurel is sleeping in her perfect, Floridian, suburban home with her perfect husband, when she is awakened by the ghost of Molly, the family’s neighbor and her daughter’s friend.

Molly is dead in the pool outside Laurel’s window and she wants Laurel to know why.

Laurel, it turns out, has seen ghosts before and, as stunned and agitated as she is, we meet a woman stronger than she realizes.  Without utterly falling to pieces, Laurel begins to figure out what could have happened.The book is more insightful and character-driven than a mystery, so I hesitate to label it as such.  Laurel, her husband, her daughter, and her sister are all pieced together more like a who-it-is than a who-done-it.

Serendipitous that I inadvertently picked this book up after The Lace Reader because Laurel is a quilter.
Like the Ipswich lace that the Whitneys read, we are going to draw parallels between the characters in The Girl Who Stopped Swimming and Laurels’ quilts.  What she cannot articulate otherwise is apparent in her quilts.  She knows she’d, “been buttoning shut the ugly parts.”  They are dark and sound compelling.A coffee table book of Laurel’s quilts would be an interesting way to reveal this story.

It’s a little more obvious than I like, but the pace moves along fast enough that I forgot I was annoyed. (Oh, that it were that easy while I’m getting the kids off to school).
Thalia, Laurel’s sister, and literary Mr. Hyde to her Dr. Jekyll, is a mesmerizing amalgamation of emotions.  Laurel loves and needs her while, at the same time, pitying, idolizing and despising her.  Thalia feels the same way about Laurel.  The many family secrets are outed along the way and we see more of Laurel and Thalia’s sentimental foundations than they do.
We need to be invested in their family history to appreciate Laurel and Thalia and how they became the characters we meet.
Despite an auspicious beginning and ending, once the proverbial gloves are off, it becomes a whirlwind of chick-lit machinations for a while.  Luckily, the pace keeps you interested and the author may be doing it intentionally.  The girls realize in their neighborhood explorations, “we’re going to treat this part like a game.  We have to or … get sick with mad and cry.”
There is a thought-provoking twist involving an initially minor character and more from this girls’ perspective would be beneficial.  Initially I was reminded of The Lovely Bonesby Alice Sebold, but this story is different.  If you can enjoy its unfinished veins, and keep the whole idea in your head instead of just what is in front of you, the story has an intriguing message .

“Mr. Pip” by Lloyd Jones

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I just finished Mr Pip and I wanted to strike while the proverbial iron is hot.  I‘m still trying to catch my breath.  I think may have actually said “Wow!” out loud at some point.

When I picked up “Mr. Pip,”  I thought it looked enchanting; a nice island book about how stories can change everyone’s lives, the power of the written word and all that.

Not quite.

Harder and better than that.

In the 1990’s, although situationally that is irrelevant, a young black girl is living on an island somewhere off the coast of Australia.  Near the Solomon Islands is my guess.  Matilda’s town is rotting under the cloak of civil unrest.  Bandits in the jungles and armies fight over the remnants of a prosperous copper mine.Her father – like many others – has gone to the white man’s mainland to work.  The remaining islanders have little structure or means, and live in the haphazard expectation that change – good or bad – is coming.

The pivotal change starts with the decision of the last white man, Mr. Watts, to resurrect some semblance of school for the village children.  Not being a teacher, he chooses “Great Expectations” by Charles Dickens as his primer.Every day he reads one chapter.  The children slowly reach out to the lifeline being cast and Matilda, especially, becomes enraptured.

Mr Watts is giving them another life, “ another piece of the world … (they) could go back to it as often as they liked.”  A world outside their own that both feeds them and encourages the whole village to share.

Parents and grandparents come to school to contribute their views on everything from the color blue to braiding hair.  Lines are drawn between Matilda’s mother and Mr. Watts when religious convictions are tested, but the real story is how all of this holds up when the very real dangers on the island manifest themselves physically.
The horror of war, no matter how small, is here.  The death, the defeatism, the terror, are all-encompassing, and we are very much afraid for the village.  With each blow, they somehow manage to rise again until it becomes too much to bear .Will “Great Expectations” have taught them enough about themselves to stay strong?  Will they remember “to be human is to be moral, and you cannot have a day off when it suits.”

Just as Dickens’ Pip finds he can no longer return to his old life, so does Matilda.  Indeed, no one will ever be the same again.

LLoyd Jones is a very good storyteller and Mr. Pip will leave you both slightly disturbed and yet also encouraged.