Secret Son, Laila Lalami
Lalami’s novel follows a boy living in the slums of Casablanca who discovers that the father he grew up believing was dead is actually alive and well and never knew about him. This discovery changes the trajectory of his life as he is drawn into his father’s wealth and status, only to be discarded in favor of his father’s “real” family. With no other opportunities and dreading the return to his previous life, he is pulled into other circumstances by influences he cannot control. This novel really made me think about the hopelessness of having no opportunities, and the crushing blow it would be to finally have them, just to have them taken away again, and the depression that would surely follow. Lalami ends her novel in the midst of this hopelessness, a decision clearly meant to encourage her readers to think about the situations of others and what might be the root cause of violence and youth unemployment.
Malibu Rising, Taylor Jenkins Reid
Let me say up front: I really liked The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo, and I really did not like Malibu Rising, and it has nothing to do with the content. The story of four siblings deserted by their rock star father, who are left to care for themselves after their mother’s death, is a compelling one. Even knowing the ending from the very beginning, that the oldest daughter Nina’s house will burn down in the aftermath of a huge party, does not deter it from being a good story. However, Jenkins Reid’s writing style is what ruined it for me. Maybe I am being nitpicky (I probably am), but if, as they say, I had a euro for every time she said “She/he/this person was wearing…” There are better ways to arrive at the destination Jenkins Reid wanted, which was surely to describe the outfits of her characters to her readers. And this is just the main example that I remember. Maybe it’s the fault of a shoddy editor more than anything else 😉