Customer Reviews

The Florist's Daughter

5 star:		(9)
4 star:		(4)
3 star:		(2)
2 star:		(2)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

Patricia Hampl's newest memoir, THE FLORIST'S DAUGHTER, opens with an indelible image. The author sits in her mother's hospital room. At her side lies her mother, who has suffered a serious stroke and is expected to die at any moment. In her lap lies a yellow notepad, on which Hampl is composing her own mother's obituary. For Hampl, whose way of dealing with the contradictions and complexities in her life has always been to write about them (in memoirs such as A ROMANTIC EDUCATION), writing a mini-biography of her mother even as the woman lays dying seems a fitting image.

Of course, as Hampl extends her mother's obituary beyond the mere facts and figures of a long, full life, she casts her mind back to her own memories of her mother, to those mundane but unforgettable kitchen-table moments that form the bulk of memories but are unlikely to appear in any sort of formal obituary.

Almost immediately, Hampl sets up a contrast between her mother, a biography-reading, pragmatic library clerk who balances the family's checkbook down "to the penny." Fond of telling cautionary tales and of reading her horoscope (her astrological sign and its accompanying personality traits cause Hampl to dub her mother "Leo the Lion"), Hampl's mother is an Irish Catholic, ironic, cautious and distrustful. Hampl muses that she may have inherited her own penchant for writing from time spent with her mother, who has the gift of remembering --- and describing in minute detail --- every aspect of the glamorous parties she sometimes attends. Hampl's mother certainly has a writer's eye, even if the only thing she ever published were vitriolic letters to the editor of the St. Paul Pioneer Press.

Or perhaps Hampl inherited her craft from her father, a quiet "man of many projects" but few words, a florist whose artistic eye, naïveté and utter lack of practicality made for beautiful floral arrangements but occasionally bad business decisions. Born into a family of Czech immigrants, Hampl's father learned both the greenhouse trade and eventually flower arranging as a young man, and excelled at both, particularly as he created whimsical, unforgettable arrangements for high-society functions: "He wanted a certain kind of formal, purchased beauty to exist, and especially for this elegance to mean something --- something good, something hopeful."

In addition to these two dynamic characters, and the background presence of Hampl herself in their lives, the city of St. Paul also plays a key role in Hampl's memoir. Set in a time between Fitzgerald's tales of the city's robber barons and mansions and the more diverse population of today, Hampl's St. Paul is simultaneously romantic (especially when set in contrast with its more staid sibling, Minneapolis) and stifling to a young woman who just wants to experience the Great World.

In THE FLORIST'S DAUGHTER this setting, family history and personal memoir intersect to make for a rich, rewarding meditation on how we become the people we are, why we end up where we live, why we make the choices we do. Hampl's story is at once intensely personal and surprisingly universal, as her reflections on what it means to be a lifelong child of one's parents have implications for almost all her readers.

--- Reviewed by Norah Piehl

I really liked this book and it was a quick and pleasant read. Hampl is a talented writer who chooses words for their beauty as well as their weight. The memoir opens with the impending death of her mother, a difficult but independent minded woman of Irish descent. She muses on the immigrant world of "old St Paul," a place that is described as somewhat ordinary and a world away from the booming city of Minneapolis. She and her parents are decent, hardworking and ultimately likable people (unlike the characters in Sebold's latest) with the kinds of stories, flaws and challenges that we all might encounter in our family tree.

Gosh, I absolutely loved this memoir--the writing is superb and the life of St. Paul, Minnesota from the 1930s and beyond is so vivid, but with lean language--just perfect. The provincialism of the Minnesota Irish Catholics contrasted with the Minnesota Czechs/Bohemians--and each of their neighborhoods in the pecking order, is so well drawn. The contrast too between parents, one who sees life's beauty and one who sees life with suspicion. I am giving copies of this as gifts to three writers I know.

With great reviews and glowing praise from a piece on MPR our bookclub thought this would be an excellent read. I didn't love it. OK, not one of us even liked it. I felt that overall the book could not capture my attention. We have enjoyed everything from Don't Let's Eat With The Dogs Tonight, to The Life of PI, to The Wind Up Bird Chronicles. Everyone felt that while The Florist's Daughter was well written, it was a snooze. I am glad I did not buy it here, I am glad I checked it out from the library. If you have a connection to St. Paul you would probably get a kick out of the history. Otherwise, skip it. If you want to read a great memoir, read The Glass Castle!

If you are as enamored of Patricia Hampl's writing as I am, this book is one not to miss--up there with _Virgin Time_, an earlier memoir. Elegant prose, filled with insight. Even events and people about which Hampl is ambivalent are clearly limned.

The book has great charm but lacks momentum, somehow; the characters come only halfway off the page--frustratingly, as they have the capacity to be greatly intriguing. Of the father, in the end, we know over and over that he was handsome, loved his trade as a florist, cultivated beauty, and was reticent; of the mother, that she suffered from epilepsy, romanticized Ireland, smoked all her life, and found her greatest pleasures in books. But, to put it as a dog might, I couldn't _smell_ the senior Hampls. Nor could I ever fully understand what they'd meant to their daughter, who sounds always so sane, so reasonable, that one wonders what, exactly, required analysis enough to drive the writing of this book.

After hearing the rave reviews at a book festival, I thought I'd read this book to help me with the memoirs of my clients. It's been two weeks since I read it and nothing sticks in my head. Isn't a memoir supposed to be memorable?

This is a book you will immediately pick up to Re-Read.
You will be touched as Ms. Hampl shares her innermost memories of her handsome, warm and wonderful Father, his artistry, unusual ability to relate to people, and who took every opportunity to forgive and forget. Her Mother, an unusual artist herself, took every opportunity to add to the author's life from childhood to the time of her passing in her 80's.
It's setting is in St. Paul, Minnesota. I felt I was walking the shopping areas of the city in the 40's and 50's as they are so well documented.
This is a beautifully written book. A book you would enjoy reading and also owning.
Pearl L. Slifer

This book was an airport impulse buy, one I regret. I had to force myself to finish this book, and it was a struggle the entire time. My hope was that eventually I would "get into it" but that never happened. The subject matter, overall, was depressing and although well written it was very dry and thin.

I enjoyed this story since it relates the story of being a daughter. Especially being the only daughter...our responsibilities are generally different from those of sons. I do know a few sons who have been exceptional! Also enjoyed mention of locations in St. Paul since I am familiar with the area.