164 of 177 people found the following review helpful:
2.0 out of 5 stars
For such a rich subject...left me completely unmoved, September 14, 2007
The initial premise of the book is terrific. We're in the '60s and a doctor finds himself in a situation on a snowy night in which he must deliver his own child, with the help of his nurse Caroline (who has a secret crush on him). The first child, Paul, is healthy, but the second, a girl, is born with Down's Syndrome. The doctor, David, is convinced his wife Norah will not be able to "handle" the trauma of having such a child, so he decides, in an instant, to hand the poor girl to Caroline and asks her to take it to a home for such children and leave it there, never to mention the girl again. He tells his wife that the daughter has died. Caroline runs to the home,finds it to be a hugely disturbing place, and then looking into the face of this new baby, decides she can love the girl and provide her with a life. She runs off with the baby, ready to start a new and uncertain life.
These initial scenes are fairly well done, and though the decision David makes is abhorrent today...it is somewhat tempered by the fact that in the '60s, we as a society weren't quite so compassionate or understanding of folks with Downs. His logic about sparing his wife is questionable, however, and Edwards fairly effectively shows that the gulf between David's initial guilt and wariness about being caught and Norah's grief at losing a child drives the couple further apart. Norah is not allowed to grieve in the way she wants...for example, she isn't allowed to see the body of her lost daughter...for obvious reasons.
Anyway, after this the book falls apart. Author Kim Edwards, it becomes clear, hasn't learned the lesson of "showing us" how people are feeling and thinking, but telling us. We are told over and over that David's secret has blanketed his family, that it's driven him apart from his wife and son. We never really understand specifically how. Does David just act guilty all the time? Does Norah never get over her depression? Is she unable to show love to her son because she wants her daughter? I found the book to be almost completely unconvincing psychologically.
Also, every character in the book (possibly excepting the daughter Phoebe) is hugely UNLIKEABLE and UNSYMPATHETIC. David is simply a pompous jerk. Her makes this huge decision and then can't understand how his lie might effect other people. He just wants his wife to "get over it." Problem is, we see right from the beginning of the book, before the lie even happens, that this is not a happy couple and not one that should ever have married. Norah, the wife, marries David apparently without love for him, and then resents him for being very successful and providing for her and her son the kind of life she married him to get. We also learn a great deal about David's childhood, and none of that rings very true either...the David we see as an adult isn't convincingly the man the young David would have grown up to be.
The son,Paul, is shown as a typical sullen teenager who is not understood by his overbearing father. He escapes to playing guitar, and what do you know...he's practically a genius at that instrument. He talks about music in a way that no real person ever would...only in a way that writer's who can't show us how a person feels but must have them "tell" us.
On the other side of the story, we have the nurse Caroline. She appears to be somewhat heroic, because she does risk a lot to provide a life for Phoebe. Yet we never see the day to day struggles of dealing with a child with Down's Syndrome. Some brief early scenes are all we get...but the structure of the story skips all the day to day details and we see only the "end result,"...which doesn't seem to have been all that difficult...except that the author "tells" us that it was. While Caroline isn't unsympathetic she's just kind of bland and passive.
At one point in the later part of the book, David returns to his old hometown and meets an unusual character. I don't want to spoil it...but let's just say that this person's actions are totally silly at first, and then later this person is clearly meant to cause a seismic shift in the dynamics of David's family...instead we just kind of scratch our heads and wonder at the strangeness of everyone's behavior. I wish I could tell you more...but if you manage to slog your way this far into the book, you should at least have some surprises left.
It took me FOREVER to get through this poorly written, overwraught book. I kept going because it was SUCH a bestseller and so many people liked it. I guess I just totally missed it. I realize I'm asking to get huge amounts of "unhelpful" ratings, but I feel there must be other lone voices out there like me...who just found the book deeply unsatisfactory.
The only reason it gets two stars instead of one is that the initial premise IS original and was done well enough to make me buy the darn book in the first place and continue reading it in the hopes that the author's imagination would once again provide redemption. No such luck.
Help other customers find the most helpful reviews
Was this review helpful to you? Yes
No
569 of 637 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Read this, read this, read this!, November 26, 2005
I don't read a lot of fiction and I most especially do not read romances. I'm not sure how this book is categorized but it is the most compulsively readable, emotional, and memorable book I've read since "Gone With the Wind" over 40 years ago. This is an epic story of a doctor who, in an emotional moment and with all his medical knowledge telling him to protect those he loves, makes a decision that affects him and everyone around him forever. On a blizzardly night in 1964, David Henry helps his wife give birth to twins, one a perfect boy and the other a girl with Downs Syndrome. At that time, imperfect children were "put away" in institutions where they died young and families and friends spoke of them in shame-filled whispers, if at all. David grew up with a very sickly sister whose death at age 12 ended all meaningful life for his parents. With all good intentions of sparing his wife and new son the pain he and his parents endured, he made a fateful decision and told his wife the little girl had died at birth. It was a decision that, once made, could not be redeemed nor remedied. Time inexorably moves away from that moment but, instead of becoming distant, it grows tentacles that seize their beings and influence everything for the next three decades. We learn a photograph can capture a moment but it cannot tell you what encompasses it, what came before and after. It cannot effect change, it cannot correct. One moment, one choice, and an ever-widening circle of consequences, many roads taken and many not.
The writing in The Memory Keeper's Daughter is so well-articulated, the story itself is so engrossing and so different from any I have read before, that hard as I tried to remain disaffected, about 100 pages before the end I felt actual pain knowing there was a last page. As I came to know every nuance of these characters, I wanted to reach into the pages and tell them everything, something, anything, to stop time, to take a different road and change the past, then go on again. Honestly, I have never felt quite this way about a book before.
Help other customers find the most helpful reviews
Was this review helpful to you? Yes
No
41 of 45 people found the following review helpful:
1.0 out of 5 stars
Life Is Too Short to Read Books Like This, November 28, 2007
Read the one and two star reviews and then put this book right back on the shelf. The premise is intriguing, but it's lit-lite, make no mistake, and there's way too much going on and going nowhere in this tragically trite writing exercise that will surely have you skimming. If you can wade through all the smarmy similes (you will truly not be able to keep track of what all is like something else) and the abundant adjectives (does every last thing in the world really need one or two qualifiers?), you are left with the shallowest of characters whose references to their pasts pop up in the most unlikely and inappropriate places (like when Norah finally learns of her daughter's existence and then all of a sudden is "remembering, for some reason, the time she had fallen through an unmarked grate in Spain." What??) from an author who seemed to not be able to help but put every last thought she had into this one book. Edwards' phrasing is so cliched, repetitive and self-aware that it is often painful: starfish hands, shocks of hair, beams of moonlight, so much sunlight shining and spilling and falling and piercing everywhere all the time, too often in "motes," and silverfish-this silver-fish that. So contrived, it is almost comical! She writes like someone who is borrowing from too many and has not found her own voice--well, we can hope, anyway. I can see why lit-lite caliber colleague, Picoult, endorsed the book, but poor Ms. Kidd. I guess Penguin made her do it.
Help other customers find the most helpful reviews
Was this review helpful to you? Yes
No
![[Start the discussion]](http://g-ecx.images-amazon.com/images/G/01/x-locale/communities/discussion_boards/start-new-discussion-sec._V192250339_.gif){kind=small}
