Red Hook Road Paperback – May 31, 2011

Red Hook RoadAyelet WaldmanComparisons are odious, said John Donne, and yet I can't help thinking of how similar Red Hook Road was to a book I read a few weeks ago, Anna Quindlen's Every Last One. What in the literary zeitgeist has made it so the hot new thing is writing about mothers who lose their families to a moment of horrible tragedy?Waldman opens her novel with a party in the town of Red Hook, Maine, where two families have gathered to celebrate the marriage of their children. I use the word "celebrate" rather loosely, as the two families seem to each have some reservations about the other that surmount their joy in the occasion. Iris Copaken, a New Yorker who has summer roots Down East, fears her lively, talented daughter Rebecca is selling herself short by marrying directionless, working-class John Tetherly. John's mother Jane has thinly veiled scorn for the flashy Copakens, whose vacation house she has cleaned for decades. And yet, by the end of the night, both the Copakens and the Tetherlys find themselves with bigger problems: one of each of their own is gone, forever, in the blink of an eye.The novel follows the two families over the course of that summer and the three following, to see how each deals with grief, and how each deals with the other in the aftermath of tragedy. The families clash again and again over funeral details, over what's best for their children, over their very legacy of grief. Long-standing prejudices arise like monoliths between them. The Copakens and the Tetherlys must also deal with interior strife: Iris's relationships with her daughter, Ruthie, and her husband, Daniel, begin to fray. Jane worries that her son, Matt, is making the wrong decisions in his life.Waldman's depiction of this great grief rings, at times, a little false for me. Normally I love reading about Jewish rituals--I find them fascinating--and this book is peppered with Kaddishes and unveiling ceremonies and the like. But the fact that we only see the families over the course of these summertime interactions makes me feel set apart from the emotion. I'm just beginning to understand the depth of the Copakens' and Tetherlys' losses when we are whisked to another time, a year later. Every time that happens, some of the immediacy of the feeling is gone, and the result is somewhat cold. There's also the fact that, unlike in Quindlen's novel, we never really get a good enough picture of the families before their loss to understand what it means for them. My biggest problem with Every Last One was that it seemed almost tedious in its slow-movingness, with almost half of the story devoted to the Lathams' life before the loss occurred. But now I see that Quindlen was only showing us what the stakes were. There needed to be more of that here.I feel hinky comparing these two authors--it's the coincidence that their books came out close together that makes me do it. Because there are things that Quindlen does that are her own, just as there are things Waldman does that are hers, too. In Red Hook Road, Waldman's great feat is that she manages to give a complete, fully-realized sense of place from two very divergent points of view. The Copakens' life in Maine is one of affluence, an idealized, rustic, easy thing; it represents for them their family's slow-moving past and their best times spent together as a family. For the Tetherlys, who struggle to make ends meet, Maine is the place where they live. Their problems live there, too. I love Maine, it captivates me as a modern-day Ultima Thule, and I never tire reading descriptions of the landscape and the natural surroundings. But I see Jane Tetherly's point of view, that those of us who have never experienced it at its coldest or grimmest have almost lost the right to say we love it, or that we know it very well at all. Eventually, the children of the two families mesh their lives so that a middle-ground is created, and that never feels like a compromise, but just another way of living in this particular place that feels as natural as the two it sprang from. So Waldman is good at that.And though Waldman struggles with making a couple of the bigger events in this story sound even remotely plausible, but overall, she is the best at details. I've noticed this in her other books, but here she really shines. Whether it is boat-building, boxing, sailing or baking, she has either experienced these things or done such meticulous research that it all rings utterly true. These details, these idiosyncratic parts of her novel, were the best for me, and I really admire her for her ability to convey these small, defining parts of people.But the best part of Red Hook Road was a subplot dealing with the relationship between Iris's famous violinst father and Jane's adopted Cambodian niece, who turns out to be a musical prodigy. I could have done without some of the fast-paced action sequences at the end of this book, if only more time could have been devoted to this complex, wonderfully touching relationship. The love and respect that builds there was more real to me and more interesting than all the highly-fraught, action-packed working-together-to-steer-in-a-storm misadventures could have been. I feel almost like Waldman didn't trust herself to hang her story on this quiet love and respect but oh, I wish she had. To do that would have made this fairly good book great, and would have reinforced the message that after all is said and done, it's the little coincidences of the heart that really have the power to bring people together.Rating: 3 of 5 stars

I read and enjoyed Ayelet Waldman's last book Love and Other Impossible Pursuits (which was later made into a movie with Natalie Portman). The only problem I had with that book was a bit of trouble liking the flawed main character. (Don't get me wrong; I like complicated MC's, but I struggled with this one.)I did not have that problem with Red Hook Road. The chapters alternate character's perspectives, which I love. (I wrote Monsoon Season that way.) The story is told in omniscient, actually, so while each chapter focuses on a different character, there's quite a bit of head-hopping within each chapter. I'm pretty sure my writing professors would say she broke some "rules", but I'd say this is a good example that a good writer can ignore all the rules she wants.The plot sounds a bit morbid: in the first chapter, a bride a groom die in a car wreck on their way to the reception. As the story unfolds, the two very different families try to figure out how to relate to one another, while wondering whether they really have to. It's blue collar vs. white collar; out-of-towner vs, local; stoic vs. emotional. But in the end, their grief unites them and the love for family is a common thread.I'm happy to see Waldman has another book, Daughter's Keeper, which I'll read very soon.-Katie O'Rourke, author of Monsoon Season

I feel somewhat inadequate reviewing a book that was given such a great review by Pat Conroy, however I only read it because of his review. I give it 5 stars because it has all the elements of fine literature: excellent plot, exquisite writing, seemingly seamless editing and the form of classic literature. Although I typically am somewhat "macho" in my reading selections I found this story told by a woman and primarily about women to be engrossing. The story line starts with a tragedy and then follows the lives of the people who live in a small town in Maine and their interactions with the wealthy of New York who spend their summers here. The locals depend, in part, on earning enough money from the summer work for the visitors to sustain them for the other nine months of the year so there is a real division in class. However, when the children of both groups fall in love it complicates matters and makes for a great story. The book follows the action only during the summer months of three consecutive years and studies the interactions of the classes while introducing a child prodigy violinist, her teacher who is an old maestro and a variety of others. I felt like I knew these people after reading the book and I think you will too. Relationships, values, love, hate, grief, recovery and all the other facets of life are caught in this fine effort from Waldman. And, I wish I had not read the flyleaf and everything had been a surprise but even having done that the book was fascinating.

I wasn't thrilled that the book began with a horrible tragedy, but it soon moved into the effects of the tragedy on all the family members, and how their relationships with each other changed. It was an up close and personal look into how grief changes people. The characters were likable, and I hated that they were hurting. The climax of the book is so suspenseful that my heart was beating double time. I also loved the introduction of a professional musician into the mix and the influence he had on a young Cambodian adoptee. I've heard other readers criticize the very thorough details of everything physical in the book. I loved it because I have not been to Maine and felt like I could picture everything perfectly. This would make a dynamite movie.

Not the best book ive ever read but i liked it. An interesting storyline that took you to the place.