This is a book about grief and family relationships - like a million other books, I suppose, and I must admit I was not much enamoured at the beginning. And this book has the usual warm and tingly tentacles common to American sentimentorama - luckily it also has a measure of intelligence. Sometimes the tentacles threaten to strangle the intelligence, but one can usually put up with them, as they seem to come with the territory increasingly often.
Ike, the patriarch, is dying - I'm not really sure what of - heart problems, probably. He is 77, so it can't be described as a tragedy. We inhabit his wife Anna's consciousness - a few years younger, she has a sparky and defensive attitude. Her three daughters and her granddaughter Christine (and Christine's dog Nelson) are daily visitors. Christine is going through something of a crisis in her marriage and her aunts and mother are ever-ready with advice and censure, as they are about everything. At times one wants to tell them to shut up and let the poor woman alone.
Much of the time is spent on meal preparation, family chit-chat and reminiscing - is it only in American families, I wonder, that everyone remembers past events so clearly? But enough with the carping: this is a good read which starts off rather too slowly, but which becomes picks up well later on. If you are looking for Jane at the height of her powers, however, I'd say read Horse Heaven.
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