I'm familiar with the terrain, the industry, and even some of the types that Emma McLaughlin and Nicola Kraus have so perceptively skewered in THE NANNY DIARIES. The perceptions and morality of their young protagonist strike me as being spot-on, but I wonder how perceptive she'd be if she weren't, both by education and ancestry, very close to being part of that world herself.
Along that line, I thought that the most poignant moments came in her descriptions of other nannies, less-advantaged, and with the exception of one, Sima, less-well-educated, and the terrible suppressed anger they feel.
I don't think this is a funny book. I think this is a superbly concentrated book about love and cruelty. "Nan" is not cruel; she's loving; and she's fortunate to have loving parents and a grandmother who can set her straight -- a gift she tries to pass onto her young charge Grayer, who really is quite charming and funny. His gift to her of a Valentine and his abiding affection for his prior nanny, Caitlin, were beautifully done.
But the Xes...here is social satire at its most ferocious. The authors nail the requisite status symbols and the extravagance of the financial nouveaux (by the way, the lavender linen water really is very nice!). Their dialogue is marvelously nuanced, from the casual effrontery of Mrs. X, appropriating Nanny's life, to her notes, to the jargon-laden tranquilizing speech of the parasitical "problem-solving" professionals who cater to people like her, to the bluntness of Mr. X and his mother. And the writers contrast it with the parents who -are- parents, both in New York and on Nantucket, which remains a place where the old families are readily distinguishable from summer people.
What I noticed as I went through the book (and people might want to be careful here because I'm coming dangerously close to SPOILERS!) is that Mrs. X gradually emerges as one of the "guerrilla wives." She stole her husband from the first Mrs. X and knows that she too can be replaced with a younger, juicier model: her cruelty is that of someone temporarily higher on the food chain, but aware that she is as much of a handi-wipe as the ones that good nannies (and good parents) carry to clean up messes with.
There is some -schadenfreude- here: it's fun, even cathartic, to see these particular rich and careless people as bad and to laugh at their antics. The authors are more subtle than that, however: despite their comments about bunnies and elevators with more and nicer spaces than most of the rest of New York's denizens, they're quite aware of the domestic human tragedies in the world of conspicuous consumption that they chronicle.
And they leave open the question that intrigued me: What would Nanny do, given a financially advantageous marriage, if, suddenly, she found herself standing in their Pradas? For that matter, what would the rest of us do?
With considerably more vim and four-letter words, these writers in their debut novel add new sight lines to the territory of JANE EYRE, THE GREAT GATSBY, and Edith Wharton. The rich are different. They're cruel. They're careless. And their world, while unforgiving to the discards, can be seductive to onlookers.
VERY well-done, VERY well-written, but too painful to be the "romp" its marketing push led me to expect.