Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
British writer Boyt delivers a story of filial estrangement in her mordant and touching U.S. debut. The nonlinear narrative opens roughly 15 years ago with Ruth, a sixth-form teacher and single mother, hosting three friends in her London flat. One friend asks about Ruth's daughter, Eleanor, who left home several years earlier as a teen and is addicted to heroin. Ruth is raising Eleanor's toddler, Lily, who she feels has "compensated" her for losing her relationship with Eleanor. In a flashback, one of many poignant and sadly funny scenes, Ruth describes meeting Lily's "cavern-faced" father during a Christmas picnic. Describing how she attempted to inject cheer into the grim scene in the dingy park where they meet, Ruth reflects, "I was smiling all the while, just gently, but in my heart I was thinking this might be the saddest occasion of my life." Though the attention paid to Ruth's friends in the opening is a bit misleading, patient readers will appreciate Boyt's subtle and gradual accrual of details about Ruth's life, such as the identity and fate of Eleanor's father. Most powerful, though, is a final chapter from Lily's point of view as a late teen, as she reckons with her unorthodox upbringing and proves to have picked up Ruth's generosity and strong sense of observation--but not her sadness. Boyt's assured effort brims with intelligence and feeling. (Sept.)
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by Library Journal Review
UK author Boyt's first novel to be published in the States covers the themes of parenting, addiction, and forgiveness. Ruth is a teacher, and a single mum to Eleanor. Despite Ruth's devotion, Eleanor is a troubled teen who eventually leaves home due to her drug addiction. Ruth allows her daughter space and waits patiently, until Eleanor becomes pregnant. Once Lily is born, Ruth rescues her new granddaughter from squalor and raises her joyously. The novel conveys the full spectrum of Ruth trying to mother Eleanor in her troubled state from afar, while simultaneously raising Lily. Ruth and Lily have the tightest bond; it's the two of them against the world. Lily is the missing link for Ruth, as she has consistently been left by so many others in her life. Ruth is kind and compassionate with both of her "daughters," and she has a tight group of girlfriends who always have her back and can help with Lily or come through if a crisis arises with Eleanor. Readers follow Lily as she grows into a strong young woman. VERDICT Boyt has been compared to Scottish novelist Ali Smith ("Seasonal Quartet"). This tale of sorrow and devotion with a layer of hope is for fans of real-world family fiction focusing on intense situations.--Beth Liebman Gibbs
(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review
A single mother navigates custody of her granddaughter--and tries to correct mistakes she made the first time around--in this gentle but heart-wrenching story. When London schoolteacher Ruth learns that her daughter, Eleanor, is pregnant, the two are sharing a meager Christmas dinner on a park bench. Eleanor is years into debilitating addiction, living on and off the streets with her baby's father, Ben, but Ruth pushes past Eleanor's resistance to offer help when Lily is born--holding vigil as the newborn goes through withdrawal in the hospital, taking control of the baptism as Eleanor and Ben keep wandering off, regularly stopping by their apartment to make sure they're eating. When Ruth finds an unresponsive person in Eleanor's apartment--ostensibly an overdose--she flees with Lily, anticipating a fight for custody that never comes. The years pass swiftly, almost perfunctorily, as Lily grows into a kind, strong-willed, and precocious child, "someone who knows life is a serious business, perhaps a few years before she might," as Ruth's friend describes her. The pacing matches Ruth's own matter-of-factness: Her outsize shame leaves little berth for wallowing, and her self-deprecating wit resists maudlin sentimentality. (The greatest source of comic relief comes from Jean Reynolds, Ruth's co-worker, whose brashness and loyalty make her impossible not to love.) Through intimate first-person narration, Ruth balances the pain of losing a daughter against the hope of a second chance. Her relationship with Lily brings a cautious joy. Ruth can't look at the girl without seeing the trail of maternal pain that originated with her own mother, who drank disinfectant after Ruth's father left, and led to Lily's miraculous birth. Love can go awry--see the double meaning of the title, which Lily discovers on a tombstone: "It kind of sounds like the person tried to be loving but…the aim was wrong"--but can that misdirection be righted? Though Lily isn't immune from trauma--this is clear when her perspective abruptly takes over in the final third of the book--she is propped up by the strength of Ruth's devotion. Readers who are averse to crying in public be warned: You'll want to sit with this astounding story at home. Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.