This has got to be one of the most consistently readable authors I've ever found. All her books (so far, anyway!) have been interesting, funny in spots, enlightening in others and basically the kind of book you hate to put down.
This is just woeful. I expected a LOT better from Joanna Trollope. Pretentious, posturing, shrill family can't figure out why mother doesn't just lie down and take it when her husband of forty years leaves her for a woman half his age. Mother herself is shrill at times but we are never given to understand why her pain is supposed to be untenable, even when everyone gets all cozy with the mistress. Ending very unsatisfying. Actually - unsatisfying all the way through. Not sure why I kept reading it - perhaps I thought Trollope would redeem herself before the end? She didn't.
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