Karen U. (editorgrrl) reviewed on + 255 more book reviews
From Publishers Weekly
Tender and funny and sometimes jolting, this is a first novel of remarkable accomplishment. It tells of a young, thoughtful photographer, Harriet Rose, her newfound love for a young artist and a few surreal weeks in her life when she goes to Geneva to stay with an old friend, Anne Gordon, who is embroiled in a deeply unsuitable affair with a married man. Both of them had childhoods scarred by tragic loss: Harriet is kept afloat by humor, her art (she is obsessed with reflected images) and her love for levelheaded Benedict Thorne; but Anne drowns in desperate aloneness, snatching at selfish lust as love. In outline it sounds like a grim tale, but in fact Weber\'s sly and prickly wit, her delight in the farcical aspects of the most tragic situations and her sure sense of the rewards--and limits--of feminine friendship cast a life-enhancing glow over the proceedings. Her elegant narrative voice, rife with little puns and pop-culture throwaways, can cope equally well with a darkly hilarious account of growing up in Queens and the shenanigans of a deeply selfish Auschwitz survivor. There may, as in many first novels, be personal material here, but if so it has been alchemized into something decidedly rich and strange. It will be fascinating to see what Weber does next.
Tender and funny and sometimes jolting, this is a first novel of remarkable accomplishment. It tells of a young, thoughtful photographer, Harriet Rose, her newfound love for a young artist and a few surreal weeks in her life when she goes to Geneva to stay with an old friend, Anne Gordon, who is embroiled in a deeply unsuitable affair with a married man. Both of them had childhoods scarred by tragic loss: Harriet is kept afloat by humor, her art (she is obsessed with reflected images) and her love for levelheaded Benedict Thorne; but Anne drowns in desperate aloneness, snatching at selfish lust as love. In outline it sounds like a grim tale, but in fact Weber\'s sly and prickly wit, her delight in the farcical aspects of the most tragic situations and her sure sense of the rewards--and limits--of feminine friendship cast a life-enhancing glow over the proceedings. Her elegant narrative voice, rife with little puns and pop-culture throwaways, can cope equally well with a darkly hilarious account of growing up in Queens and the shenanigans of a deeply selfish Auschwitz survivor. There may, as in many first novels, be personal material here, but if so it has been alchemized into something decidedly rich and strange. It will be fascinating to see what Weber does next.
