Author: annsepstein@att.net

My Goodreads and Amazon review of Long Island Compromise by Taffy Brodesser-Akner (Rated 3) – Tone Deaf. Being unfamiliar with Taffy Brodesser-Akner’s previous novel, I was not prepared for the satiric tone of Long Island Compromise. In fact, having read that she’d written this book about a real-life kidnaping to understand the aftermath of a trauma in her own life, I expected the novel to be serious. Once I adjusted my expectations, I tried to get into the spirit of the sharp social commentary that is this author’s strength. Alas, it was a struggle because the tone ill-fit the topic. It reminded me of my discomfort watching sitcoms as a child, waiting for everything to turn out okay. As an adult, I’m fine with any outcome, good or bad, provided I care about the characters. I can’t say I cared about any of the born-to-wealth adult children in Long-Island Compromise. Mocking the victims comes off as cruel, not canny. The bitter ending, devoid of empathy, forecloses the possibility of insight into human nature. Worst, from a literary perspective, the writing is preachy. As a novelist myself (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I avoid didactic narratives. They neither amuse nor inform. While Brodesser-Akner is occasionally entertaining, her self-indulgent prose fails to engage or enlighten. People who inherit money may not “deserve” their wealth, but neither do they inherently deserve scorn. I wish this talented author had invested her words more wisely.

Misspent words

Why writers read: “There are worse crimes than burning books. One of them is not reading them.” – Joseph Brodsky

My Goodreads and Amazon review of This Strange Eventful History: A Novel by Claire Messud (Rated 3) – Barren Territory. This Strange Eventful History by Claire Messud traverses decades, continents, and viewpoints to portray the three-generation history of a French-Algerian family. The novel starts strong with memorable characters and fraught events, but detours into peripheral names, happenings, and literary and philosophical ruminations. Messud’s “erudite” writing is self-indulgent and begs for a firm editorial hand. Ultimately the book is a screed against forgetting — multiple figures have Alzheimer’s — and near the end, a dying father recollects life’s small moments, especially those spent with family. The passage would have been more poignant had the book not been stuffed with irrelevant tangents whose clutter stifles explorations into character. For example, there is a stark contrast between the patriarch besotted by his wife and the strained relations between subsequent generations whose emotional connections are as uprooted as their peripatetic family. Messud paints them with broad swaths of exposition, rarely revealing the roots beneath their feelings. Messud merely implies that love is blind or has no rhyme or reason. But as a novelist myself (see my Amazon author page and Goodreads author page), I believe our role is to spark insights into emotions. Messud’s book offers this promise initially, then migrates into barren territory.

A rambling portrait of a French-Algerian family

Why writers read: “Why are we reading, if not in hope of beauty laid bare, life heightened and its deepest mystery probed?” – Annie Dillard