Review: Keeping Lucy (by T. Greenwood)

My Rating: 2.5 stars

Last year, I had read and loved T. Greenwood's beautifully written novel Rust & Stardust, her fictional retelling of the Sally Horner case.  The way that story was written — hauntingly powerful, heartfelt, sincere...a deeply emotional story that shook me to the core and continued to stay with me long after I had finished reading it.  Given this background, when I was offered a galley of Greenwood's next novel Keeping Lucy, I eagerly accepted.  After reading the summary and discovering that it would be about a mother forced to send her baby daughter, born with Down Syndrome, away to a special needs school, I expected another deeply emotional, heartfelt story.  Going into this book with such high expectations, I'm sorry to say that I ended up sorely disappointed with how this one turned out.

From the writing to the characters to the execution of the story, Keeping Lucy felt completely opposite to what Rust & Stardust had been — to the point that, as I was reading, I couldn't help shaking my head and wondering whether this could've been written by the same author whose previous book I had adored.  The story actually started off fine, as the opening chapters did a great job of setting up the story as well as the emotional undertones for the events that I thought were about to unfold — a heart-wrenching story about Lucy, the horrors she endured at that school, and her mother's fight to get her back.  Unfortunately, about a quarter of the way into the story,  the plot went completely off the rails and instead of getting to hear Lucy's emotional story as I expected, it became a "road trip" story of sorts when Ginny (Lucy's mother) and her best friend Martha decide to drive across the country with the kids in tow.  From there, the remainder of the story was pretty much about the various situations that Ginny and Martha get themselves into and how they wind up getting themselves out of them.  It felt as though Lucy's story was placed on the back burner, glossed over and forgotten, only brought back out to the forefront when it was convenient to do so, but still sparingly for the most part, as that "terrible place" and the horrors Lucy must have endured are repeatedly alluded to but rarely addressed directly.  

The writing this time around was also off.  Whereas with Rust & Stardust, the writing felt lyrical and poetic and there was a strong sense of time and place, I unfortunately didn't feel any of that with Keeping Lucy.  The writing in this one felt a bit all over the place – overly descriptive in some parts, not descriptive enough in others.  There was also a lot of what I would classify as "unnecessary descriptions of the mundane" – for example, descriptions along the lines of the following:  'she got in the car, turned the key in the ignition, pressed one foot on the clutch, the other on the brake, put her hands on the steering wheel, and looked out the windshield in front of her' (paraphrased and not direct quote from the book!) – which dragged the story down tremendously for me.  Instead of the many superfluous descriptions that seemed to be of little significance and did nothing to advance the plot, it would have been better to use that space to actually tell Lucy's story.

With all that said, what frustrated me the most about this book was actually the characters — specifically the adult characters in the story — most of whom were unlikable.  The way Ginny's character was written especially frustrated me – throughout the time that Ginny and Marsha were on the run, a significant portion of the story consisted of  a constant barrage of Ginny's thoughts as she debated back and forth (often in her own mind) about everything from her decision to run away, to the status of her marriage, to her relationship with her husband's domineering parents, etc.  Oftentimes, Ginny came across as fickle and never quite able to make up her mind about anything, though the most annoying part for me was how her thoughts always seemed to get caught up in an endless loop where she's wracked with guilt one minute, anger the next minute, then doesn't know how she feels the minute after that – the pattern seemed to be that she would reflect about all the regrets in her life, how she deliberately chose to stick her head in the sand, to ignore the signs and keep quiet when she should've said something, but then she turns around and tries to justify why things happened that way, that perhaps it's no one's fault, then realizes she is making excuses, wakes herself up to reality, then tries to push all the thoughts out of her mind completely.  I usually don't mind flawed characters in a story as long as they are written realistically, but when the portrayal goes overboard to the point that it becomes melodrama that detracts from the story itself, that's when it becomes too much for me -- instead of being able to connect with the character or feel any type of empathy for what they're going through, I feel annoyed and frustrated instead.

This was a book that I really really wanted to like, but found it extremely hard to do so.  With that said, I won't discount this author yet, as I've only read 2 books of hers so far that have fallen on the opposite ends of the spectrum for me.  Hopefully Greenwood's next book will be able to deliver a heartfelt and emotionally resonant story along the lines of Rust & Stardust rather than Keeping Lucy.

Received ARC from St. Martin's Press via NetGalley.

Review: Rust & Stardust (by T. Greenwood)

 My Rating: 5 stars

Prior to reading this book, I knew very little about the real life abduction case that had served as the inspiration behind Vladimir Nabokov’s controversial classic Lolita.  All I knew was that such a case existed and that the name of the “real-life Lolita” was Sally Horner, who was 11-years-old when she was abducted.  Going into this book, all I knew was that it would be a fictional retelling of Sally Horner’s story and with my limited knowledge of that case, my first instinct was to do my own research and get some details down before starting – but one of my friends who had read this book earlier suggested that, in order to get the full impact of the story,  I should wait until I finished the book before looking up any further details about the case, so I decided to follow that advice.  While I’m not sure whether knowing details of the case beforehand would’ve affected my reaction to the book or not, I can say that almost immediately after finishing the last page and closing the cover, I went online in a frenzy and looked up everything I could possibly find about Sally Horner’s case.  At the time, I felt an overwhelming sense of urgency to look up the real-life facts of the case, not because I wanted to validate what I had just read (since I already knew this would be a fictionalized account), but because the story had such a huge impact on me emotionally – looking back now, I realize I wanted to find out details of the real-life case so I could convince myself that what I had read in this book was more fiction than fact and in doing so, hopefully restore the confidence I had lost in a society that had let a depraved, sick individual like Frank LaSalle – whose previous offenses should’ve been enough to keep him locked up for good – out loose into the world and do the horrible things that he did to Sally.  Unfortunately, the society we live in currently hasn’t changed for the better, as these horrific cases continue to happen even now -- the Frank LaSalles of the world continue to get let out into society (when there is absolutely no sensible reason for them to still be walking the streets) and continue to destroy the lives of innocent children as well as their families.

Needless to say, this book was tough to read and while I applaud the respectful and sensitive way that the author T. Greenwood handled the subject matter, reading this book still left me emotionally drained.  My heart broke over and over again reading about Sally’s horrific ordeal and I found myself crying out in angry frustration over each missed opportunity, each dashed hope, each chance that people had to “do something” but either couldn’t or didn’t want to bother.  The way that Greenwood handled the narrative, alternating the voice between Sally and the various characters in the story (thankfully never from the abductor’s point-of-view) was hauntingly powerful and for me, played a huge role in making the story so emotional and heartfelt for me – I especially appreciate how Greenwood gave each member of Sally’s family a voice and explored their feelings, emotions, actions, etc. in so much depth, giving this fictionalized story a necessary realistic depth that is not often found in imagined retellings of real-life events.

Greenwood did a phenomenal job with this book  – the delicate way in which she handled the story, telling what needed to be told but in a manner that was careful not to exploit and that was sensitive to both Sally’s family as well as the readers of this story; the way she was able to bring the characters to life so wholly and completely and have them occupy her readers’ hearts so fully, to the point that I will admit I felt a little disappointed when I learned from the Author’s Note at the end of the book that some of the characters I had taken to were actually not real, only figments of the author’s imagination.  As for the writing, I have to say that I am completely in awe of Greenwood’s skill – the prose she used in telling the story is beautifully rendered, almost lyrical in some places, flows well, and is incredibly atmospheric.     After I finished the book, I went online and found the HazLitt article that Greenwood mentioned in the Author’s Note (link to the article is here for those interested: https://hazlitt.net/longreads/real-lolita) and after reading the article, I am blown away by how well Greenwood was able to incorporate all those real-life details with the fictional elements of her story so seamlessly -- resulting in a retelling that is poignant, convincing, and comes across absolutely authentic! 

The HazLitt article mentions some of the abduction / captivity cases that occurred in recent years (Elizabeth Smart, Jaycee Dugard, Colleen Stan, etc.) and the fact that the victims in those cases “published or will publish books about their long-running ordeals.  They can tell their stories the way they wish and when they choose, and attempt to make something meaningful of their lives.  Sally Horner did not have that choice.”  Now, through Greenwood’s beautifully written novel, Sally can finally get the chance to tell her story – for me, this is a little bit of solace given the heartbreakingly tragic life that this brave girl endured.  This is another unforgettable story that I know will stay with me for a long time to come.

Received ARC from St. Martin’s Press via NetGalley