A young, beautiful, wealthy, young woman lives an enviable life in New York City, but is miserable, so, with the help of her crazy psychiatrist, decides to enter drug induced sleep for a year, in the hope she will feel better. Quirky, horrid, funny and terribly black, this won’t be for everyone, but I really enjoyed it.
This book starts with a murder scene; the nanny kills her two young charges before attempting to kill herself. What follows is the lead up to the horror, and it is a clever and disturbing look at the struggles of modern parenthood, career, city living, and the fascinating situation of inviting someone into your one to care for your children. I raced through it to the abrupt, but not unsatisfying, end.
I am quite often drawn to books that have unpleasant characters or subject matter, not because I can identify with them but because the lives of the characters or the subject matter is so different from my own experiences. Cormac McCarthy is the unsurpassed master of writing about the human condition and Child of God is no exception. I was so appalled, disgusted, horrified and entertained by Lester Ballard that I couldn’t put the book down. A short but compelling read.
I have long been a fan of Siri Hustvedt’s novels, but this is my first by her husband, and won’t be my last. It begins in 1967 in New York, when a young poet has an encounter with a Frenchman and his girlfriend which gets complicated, then nasty. Two different narrators then tell part of the story, which is clever, intriguing and beautifully written.