There were aspects I liked and aspects I didn't. Maybe I felt bitter, coming off of some hard publishing house rejections for my own novel. But I kept wondering, "Is this what passes for good writing these days?" It's not that suspenseful of a plot, the writing isn't that amazing; I think the main focus is the characters, and they were a bit insipid.With so many kid-based chapters, I am kind of surprised this didn't pass for Young Adult fiction (it reminded me a bit of FLIPPED), except that she looks back over her life in the plane as an adult, so maybe that changes the genre. And I found the plane scenes to ring TOTALLY false to me. It's much more interesting when she's in the past. The novel reminded me of The Prince of Tides mixed with a lot of washwater to dilute out the power and meaning. What I liked about the novel was mostly due to the surprise at the ending being the opposite of what I thought it would be. It made the mother less heartless and more long-suffering, and I always like a book that can trick me. I think I was offput by the first chapter, in which she had a discussion with a stranger in a plane that I just didn't think was likely between two people who didn't know each other. Then, she'd have moments she seemed to think were poetic, like comparing herself scratching a moquito bite to "a dog well-stratched." Or wishing for undersea creatures "to surface and see everything." Or cliches like "Say you walked into your own familiar house and the floor gave away beneath your feet." But on the other hand, there were a few remarkable moments: "I felt as though shards of sleep were dropping around me like eggshell around a hatching bird"; "there was a thrill to the sickness, a jazzy edge that made what felt like an internal eyeball jerk open"; "it felt as if birds could fly down and pluck jewels from my mouth." And, of course, there were the funny moments, the deep moments, that were definitely things I could identify with. I felt sad when the mother described her wedding rings as being like a baby she put down because she was exhausted, but the baby reaches up for you, and you feel guilty. I've definitely been in that position with some pretty exhausting babies!!! LOLAs a daughter who did watch her mom leave her family, I had mixed emotional reactions to moments in this novel. I felt that this mother was being really petty--but then, I didn't know the nature of the secret, as the author is holding it back from the reader. So I thought she just wanted a "freer" life, whereas in my own life my mother had to leave for medical conditions and mental problems. I also thought the daughters were being petty: your mom missed ONE of your birthdays? Boo hoo. But on the other hand, I also identified with the girls. It's hard to have someone walk out of the family and not close the circle, learning to walk on without them. Then, when they try to return, they are a stranger, and you can't help feeling pettily infuriated with them, no matter how dumb or damaging such a reaction is. Those were the poignant moments in the novel for me. When the mother gave the main character a painting of a mother rocking a baby, I really felt affected by that moment. Even sick mothers, mothers who leave their families, mothers who leave for other paths...they are still mothers.
I have some reservations about this book about family relationships, especially mothers and daughters, but not so many I wouldn't sample another title by the same author. There was one main drawback for me. As I was reading along, I had a strong reaction against certain scenes that simply didn't ring true as presented. Hey, wait, I thought. The author has created an expectation of reality, so why doesn't this part feel "true?" For example, the dutiful, sober parents didn't notice that the two pre-adolescent sisters regularly sneaked out at midnight to sleep on a quilt they kept stashed in the bushes aside their modest house (which happened to be sandwiched between other modest houses of neighbors we meet) and then sneaked back in undetected at dawn. Once or twice, maybe, but routinely for a ten/eleven/twelve year old? That was a stretch. However, since that appears early in the story, I decided to suspend my disbelief and just go along. Unfortunately, I soon had a repeat of that protestation in several additional scenes. The break-down of the relationship between the mother and younger daughter, from whose point of view the story is being told, didn't seem realistically scripted either. Near the end of the book, some twists do appear that I hadn't fully anticipated, but they simply reinforced my earlier reactions: oh, so that is why those earlier parts seemed "wrong" somehow, even clumsy and unconvincing. Berg had an ending in mind, so she tried to fit the details to her ideas, but for me, at least, it didn't work. What did work about What We Keep: Berg's writing style is very comfortable, direct and accessible. She limits the number of characters and makes the few that do appear memorable and easy to distinguish one from the other; as a result, readers are not likely to get them confused. The book reflects with effect the atmosphere of the fifties era setting. An author interview and reader's guide questions appeared in my paperback edition, encouraging the possibility of using the book in a book discussion group. Finally, little time investment is needed as the book is neither dense, nor long, and contains topics that could create an interesting group discussion.
What do You think about What We Keep (1999)?
I enjoyed getting to interview Ms. Berg in-person, in 2001, when she released "Never Change". She'd already been an Oprah Book Club("Open House") pick.This book, "What We Keep", is incredibly effective at showing us how very poorly we are at relating to, and actually understanding, one another.She manages to make us weep and laugh in the same sentence.Acclaimed novelist Andre' Dubus describes Elizabeth Berg as one who"...writes with humor and a big heart about resilience, love and hope. And the transcendence that redeems."
—Lisa Allender
Judging from this book alone, as the only title of hers I've read, I would say Berg is intuitive and understands people. I have to admit I found it a little disturbing--both as a daughter of divorced parents and as a mother. . .and let's face it, as a wife. Where is that line between fulfilling a responsibility to your children and being you? The line seems to also be dependent on one's relationship as a daughter of the Heavenly Father--or lack thereof.Quotes that stood out to me: "Sometimes I think what you say to kids doesn't make a damn bit of difference. It's all in what you do. It really is. It is all in what you do" (165)."I wanted only that my loyalty not be tested in either direction" (210). (If only divorced parents could give this to their children!)"I have finally begun to learn a kind of happiness that I thought I would never know! I have to get stronger in all this, I need to--" (214) (said by the mother after leaving her daughters in pursuit of herself)"I knew what Sharla was feeling: the pull to a mother versus the great discomfort of spending time with a stranger who asked too much of you. . .my image of my mother was tempered by some measure of compassion: I could see how much she hurt. But I could not give her what she wanted. Not the things she named, such as living with her at least part-time; not the things she did not name that were the things she wanted most, such as a move back inside me to the lit place she used to occupy. That place was gone" (239)."It's funny how, oftentimes, the people you love the most are given the least margin for error" (242).(one sister to the other as adults talking about their mother) "If you'd just. . .met her," Sharla says, "like at a party or something, wouldn't you like her? I mean, doesn't she seem like a pretty neat woman?" (255)"You can't get away from some things. You say you're turning your back on someone, and you start off down a long road, and you walk so very far, and then you find out the road is just a big circle and you are back where you started" (261).And that doesn't begin to touch the passages about her marriage, their lack of connection, her feelings of being trapped, of him not knowing her, of not fulfilling her dreams of who she meant to be. Lots in this book, well worth reading. I could definitely chat this one out in a couple of red chairs! ;)
—Havebooks Willread
A beautifully written story about a 47 year old woman, who is on her way to meet her sister and their mother, from whom the sisters have been estranged for 35 years. Their childhood is told in a series of memories and explains how the engaged, loving mother leaves their father and, after a time, decides her daughters would be better off without her in their lives. There's a sadness to the story as you think about what the sisters and the mother have lost over the last 35 years, and the almost too late attempt at reconnecting. Berg has a gift for writing that is sparse, but clear in its description of ordinary events, and I think she's at her best in this book. My favorite passage comes near the end of the book,as the grown daughter is returning home from the visit: "I am thinking about the way that life can be so slippery; the way that a twelve-year-old girl looking into the mirror to count freckles reaches out toward herself and her reflection has turned into that of a woman on her wedding day, righting her veil. And how, when that bride blinks, she reopens her eyes to see a frazzled young mother trying to get lipstick on straight for the parent-teacher conference that starts in three minutes. And how after that young woman bends down to retrieve the wild-haired doll her daughter has left on the bathroom floor, she rises up a forty-seven-year-old; looking in the mirror to count age spots."
—Kathy Szydlo
