Marie Seltenrych Seltenrych itibaren Ganu, Golestan, Iran
Most of this book was just an utter bore to me and I was even a theology major in college, so you'd think I'd like it. The only redeeming part of this book, which definitely is worth reading, is the chapter dedicated to Abortion. The author offers some very interesting points on both sides of the debate. If you want to read this chapter, I'll lend you the book, or look for it in the library (not worth spending the money for it).
This book initially appears to be a coming-of-age story about Rose, who discovers on her ninth birthday that when she eats, she imbibes the emotions of those who prepared the food. The narrative stream broadens into the story of the Edelstein family, the members of which despite (or because of) their gifts, are stunted in their abilities to connect with other people. This novel may prove that North Americans should not attempt magical realism. While the characters and the premise are interesting, the story has no meaningful arc. At the end of the book, although Rose has taken a few preliminary steps towards becoming a whole person, the symbol of her freedom is the closet where she stores a few precious possessions. The rest of the Edelsteins are still locked inside the prisons of their terrible gifts. This book was my introduction to Aimee Bender; despite the fact that I found it somewhat disappointing, I believe I will try to get my hands on her short story collections. Bender has a talent for writing intriguing characters and crashing them into each other. For instance, the story of how Rose's parents met and started dating was a delicious parable of how people form the delusion of union, while in reality, they are fundamentally mismatched. A short story is like an amuse bouche that leaves you with a new and puzzling idea without the obligation to answer it. The reader of novels expects a complete meal, and The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake is a few courses short.