Fin & Lady

Fin & Lady

3.7 68
by Cathleen Schine, Anne Twomey

View All Available Formats & Editions

From the author of The Three Weissmanns of Westport, a wise, clever story of New York in the '60s

It's 1964. Eleven-year-old Fin and his glamorous, worldly, older half sister, Lady, have just been orphaned, and Lady, whom Fin hasn't seen in six years, is now his legal guardian and his only hope. That means Fin is uprooted from a small

…  See more details below


From the author of The Three Weissmanns of Westport, a wise, clever story of New York in the '60s

It's 1964. Eleven-year-old Fin and his glamorous, worldly, older half sister, Lady, have just been orphaned, and Lady, whom Fin hasn't seen in six years, is now his legal guardian and his only hope. That means Fin is uprooted from a small dairy farm in rural Connecticut to Greenwich Village, smack in the middle of the swinging '60s. He soon learns that Lady-giddy, careless, urgent, and obsessed with being free-is as much his responsibility as he is hers.
So begins Fin & Lady, the lively, spirited new novel by Cathleen Schine, the author of the bestselling The Three Weissmanns of Westport. Fin and Lady lead their lives against the background of the '60s, the civil rights movement, and the Vietnam War-Lady pursued by ardent, dogged suitors, Fin determined to protect his impulsive sister from them and from herself.
From a writer The New York Times has praised as "sparkling, crisp, clever, deft, hilarious, and deeply affecting," Fin & Lady is a comic, romantic love story: the story of a brother and sister who must form their own unconventional family in increasingly unconventional times.

Read More

Editorial Reviews

Library Journal - Audio
In this madcap novel, Schine (The Three Weissmanns of Westport) paints a fractured picture of the second half of the 1960s in New York's Greenwich Village. Fin, 11 years old and newly orphaned, leaves his rural Connecticut dairy farm home and comes to live with his half-sister, Lady. Only six years older than Fin, Lady is neurotic, capricious, and unstable. She enrolls Fin in a progressive school in which the children study Bob Dylan album notes, play with blocks, and deconstruct the academic hierarchy by first-naming everyone, even teachers. One only realizes by book's end that Fin is telling the story to his own ward. The author interview at book's end is of interest. Anne Twomey brings a thoughtful competence to the narration. VERDICT This book is recommended to Schine fans and those who enjoy 1960s-set fiction and books told from the viewpoint of young characters. ["A good summer read for those who like their family dramas with more bite than sweetness," read the review of the Sarah Crichton: Farrar hc, LJ 7/13.]—David Faucheux, Louisiana Audio Information & Reading Svc., Lafayette

Fin & Lady is a cool, sweet breeze of a book. Set in 1960s Greenwich Village as two orphans try to form a family, Cathleen Schine's newest novel reads like a fairy tale, a sunlit story wrapped around a dark core.

It's 1964 when we meet Fin — only eleven years old, attending his mother's funeral. Though no one thinks it's a good idea, his mother's will has named his half sister, Lady, as his guardian. (" 'I don't think she had much choice, dear,' Mrs. Pounds whispered to him. 'There was no one else, was there?' ") Lady, who has also lost her mother, shares a father with Fin, the late Hugo Hadley. A hard-living financier, Hugo had an unexpected quirky side, which led him to name his daughter Lady, his son after the final frame of a French film: FIN.

Fin is undone by his mother's death, and by the fact that Lady has come to claim him. But Lady is so vivid, so different and compelling, that her presence jolts him — and everyone else in the church — into a different reality. "The other mourners stared at Lady, and why wouldn't they?" Schine writes. "She stood out. She vibrated, almost, in that quiet church. She was beautiful," with a "tentative wildness and reckless dignity."

Though they met once before, when Fin was five and Lady was an eighteen-year-old runaway bride, they're strangers now. Lady takes Fin from the sleepy Connecticut dairy farm where he has been living and spirits him into Manhattan, a surreal nighttime trip in her bright blue convertible. There, because Lady thinks the two remaining months of the school year aren't worth enrolling for, she fills Fin's new city life with adventure — trips and gifts and games and Broadway musicals.

It's a change so profound, Fin has trouble believing it's real. And so might anyone. Lady's mother left her a fortune when she died, so money is abundant. The siblings soon move from the luxurious Upper East Side apartment where Lady was raised, to a small brownstone in Greenwich Village she has just purchased. In this world free of any adults (Lady doesn't qualify) and of all responsibility, it's as though Eloise has turned twenty-four, decamped the Plaza, and moved into a groovy pad to play house with her kid brother.

Life in the Village settles into a rhythm of sorts. Fin finally goes to school, a progressive one where kids sit on the floor, call the teachers by their first names, and never have to take tests. Schine, who surprisingly skimps on the physical details of Greenwich Village in the '60s, nails the era's zeitgeist via the classroom: "They began each day with Community Meeting, usually a song by Woody Guthrie or Pete Seeger, once with Pete Seeger actually there to lead them?. In Language Arts, they read and discussed the liner notes of Bob Dylan albums and made more posters."

Lady, who is determined to marry before she turns twenty-five, gives to Fin the task of finding her a mate. Soon, three would-be suitors are caught in Lady's entrancing orbit. Fin, meanwhile, carves out a life of his own. Though the turbulence of the '60s laps at the edges of his and Lady's lives, Schine keeps their world gauzy enough that even riots, assassinations, and the Vietnam War feel far away.

By the time Lady blows her self-imposed marriage deadline for the third time, her lovers still in her thrall, Fin blows up. With a fifteen-year-old's callous honesty, he calls Lady a coward. A day later, she vanishes.

It's bad news for Fin but great news for us. The tale, while charming, has stalled, and Fin has delivered the kick in the pants it sorely needed. What comes next is the heart of the book, an idyll on the isle of Capri. Lady finally falls in love — madly in love — and in the unexpected consequences gets a real story to play. For Schine, it's a chance to revel in a locale that she clearly adores:

Above, an arcade of lemons hung down, colossal lemons, and the sudden change from the glare of the street to the dappled shade was almost shocking.There was a garden and a terrace and steps to a small, cool white house. And from the windows upstairs, you could see beyond the other cool, shaded white villas to the sea.
It's not just the landscape of Fin & Lady that changes at this point but the tone as well. What was sharp and wry in the New York chapters is now, if not sentimental, at least filled with sentiment. Lady, who saved Fin at the start of the book, soon finds herself in dire need in Capri. Fin, no longer an orphan but part of a family, now returns the favor. Whimsical and witty, Fin & Lady offers escape yet still has has enough heart to keep you thinking after the last page is turned. At the risk of damning with faint praise — Schine has written a perfect book for the evanescent air of summer.

Veronique de Turenne is a Los Angeles–based journalist, essayist, and playwright. Her literary criticism appears on NPR and in major American newspapers. One of the highlights of her career was interviewing Vin Scully in his broadcast booth at Dodger Stadium, then receiving a handwritten thank-you note from him a few days later.

Reviewer: Veronique de Turenne

The New York Times Book Review - Christopher Benfey
…[a] bittersweet elegy for Greenwich Village in the 1960s…Schine…is aware of how much of this terrain—the available heiress, the domineering father, the three suitors, the orphaned boy, the enchanted island, even the disgruntled maid—is familiar. But, like comic writers before her from Shakespeare to Jane Austen and Evelyn Waugh, she skillfully plays with the conventions and the reader's expectations…[a] wise and wistful comic novel…
The Washington Post - Wendy Smith
Wonderfully funny though they often are, Cathleen Schine's novels are steeped in sadness…Schine knows that laughter isn't just an escape from life's sorrows, but also a recognition of them…[Fin & Lady] is, in essence, a novel about the choices we make in creating a family and about the inevitable limits of freedom…There are good wisecracks in the Capri chapters, but Schine's wit is muted in favor of unabashed sentiment…her sincerity here suits both her protagonists' youth and the impassioned era of their joint odyssey. The 1960s seem a less than ideal setting for a comedy of manners, and indeed this is not really a comedy. But Schine conveys the rapidly shifting mores of the '60s, as well as the slowly unfolding understanding of these appealingly vulnerable characters.
Publishers Weekly
Schine’s new novel (after Alice in Bed) is an entertaining, sometimes perplexing exploration of family bonds and bondage. When Fin is orphaned at the age of 11, Lady, his half-sister, takes him in, pulling him away from the dairy farm in rural Connecticut to the Greenwich Village of the mid-1960s. Lady has always been a shining figure to Fin, who was too young to understand the falling-out she had with their father. Now, Fin and Lady form an unconventional family, set against a tumultuous political and social climate. At times the novel has echoes of Auntie Mame; at others, Dawn Powell. The narrator’s voice is used so sparingly as to intrude when it is used, and the reader gets ahead of the story in figuring out who this shadowy figure is in the tale. The bond between Fin and Lady is strong, but the story itself breaks little new ground and doesn’t reveal anything new about the era or the longings of those experiencing it. Schine writes lively dialogue and excels at sensory detail, especially early on, before the plot becomes predictable, as the novel wavers precariously between satiric comedy-of-manners and something more serious. Agent: Molly Friedrich, Friedrich Agency. (July)
The New York Times Book Review

[Like] writers before her, from Shakespeare to Jane Austen and Evelyn Waugh, Schine skillfully plays with the conventions and the reader's expectations....A wise and wistful comic novel.
The New York Review of Books on The Three Weissmanns of Westport

Full of invention, wit, and wisdom that can bear comparison to Austen's own.
The New Yorker on The Three Weissmanns of Westport

A clever, frothy novel...Schine playfully probes the lies, self-deceptions, and honorable hearts of her characters.

Cathleen Schine can always be counted on for an enticing, smart read.
People Caroline Leavitt

Schine's writing sparkles, and her finale proves as unexpected and luminous as love itself.
The Oprah Magazine O

An utterly believable fictional world...It may well break your heart with joy.
The New Yorker

An exuberant, tender novel...the prose is zippy and sweet.
Library Journal
The tale of an unprepared relative thrust into parenting a newly orphaned child usually takes a comedic bent and wraps up with a newfound romance and emotional maturity. Eleven-year-old Fin and his stepsister Lady twist that arc. They haven't seen each other in six years, not since Fin accompanied his parents to Europe to pull a runaway Lady back home. Lady, unrepentant and defiantly unconventional (though enjoying the ease her family's wealth provides) is as beautiful as she is unstable. Raising Fin doesn't help resolve her relationships with a trio of suitors, and Fin finds himself reenacting a European pursuit. Readers whose interest may begin to flag over Fin's adoration of Lady should hang on for a final plot twist. VERDICT A good summer read for those who like their family dramas with more bite than sweetness. [See Prepub Alert, 1/25/13.]—Jan Blodgett, Davidson Coll. Lib., NC
Kirkus Reviews
In her newest, about a young boy raised by his madcap half sister, Schine (The Three Wiessmanns of Westport, 2010, etc.) joins the spate of recent authors attempting to capture the zeitgeist of the 1960s. In 1964, after 11-year-old Fin's mother dies, he leaves the Connecticut farm where he's lived since his father's death to live in Manhattan with his new guardian, his father's daughter from his first marriage. Although she is Fin's only living relative, the last time they were together was six years earlier, when he went with his parents to Capri, where Lady had run away to avoid a socially acceptable marriage. Now 24, Lady is a mix of Auntie Mame and Holly Golightly--beautiful, effervescent and emotionally wounded. Whether carefree or careless, she is luckily extremely rich. She moves Fin into a hip but far from shabby Greenwich Village brownstone and enrolls him in a progressive school without desks or grading. She throws wild parties, drives a convertible, roots for the Mets and dabbles in leftist politics. She also puts Fin in charge of finding her a suitable husband. She has three suitors: Tyler, the fiance she jilted at the altar as a pregnant 18-year-old, has become the still besotted if bitter lawyer in charge of Fin's financial estate; handsome, not-too-bright jock Jack's appeal lies in his preppy shallowness; then there is Fin's choice, Biffi, a Hungarian Jew who survived World War II to become an art dealer of genuine kindness and wit. But the deep-seated sorrow peaking up through Biffi's charm scares Lady off. Loved by all three men, she's unable to love anyone except Fin and their black housekeeper, Mable, a character who defies conventional stereotypes and thus personifies the upheavals in the decade's civil rights movement. Then she returns to Capri and discovers the joy and danger of being in love herself. Schine offers up a bittersweet lemon soufflé of family love and romantic passion.

Read More

Product Details

Macmillan Audio
Publication date:
Edition description:
Product dimensions:
5.90(w) x 5.10(h) x 0.90(d)

Read an Excerpt

“Let’s go home”


Fin’s funeral suit was a year old, worn three times, already too small.

He knew his mother was sick. He knew she went to the hospital to get treatments. He saw the dark blue lines and dots on her chest.

“My tattoos,” she said.

She sang “Popeye the Sailor Man” and raised her skinny arms as if to flex her Popeye muscles, to make him laugh.

He knew she was sick. He knew people died. But he never thought she would die. Not his mother. Not really.

Lady came to the funeral, an unmistakably foreign presence in the bare, white Congregational church: she wore large sunglasses and wept audibly.

Fin’s neighbors, the Pounds, who raised big, thick Morgan horses, had been looking after Fin since his mother was taken to the hospital.

“I’m sure your mother knew what she was doing,” Mr. Pound said doubtfully when he saw Lady Hadley approach, her arms open wide, a lighted cigarette dangling from her lips.

“I don’t think she had much choice, dear,” Mrs. Pound whispered to him. “There was no one else, was there?”

“I like Lady,” Fin said loyally. But she was terrifying, coming at him like some mad bird with a squawk of “Fratello mio! It’s all so dreadful!”

Lady put her arms around him and held him close. She was all he had, as Mrs. Pound had pointed out. All he had. He barely knew her. Unfamiliar arms. A stranger’s cheek, wet with tears leaking from beneath her dark glasses. He wanted to cry, too, for so many reasons that they seemed to cancel one another out. He stood there like a statue, nauseated and faint.

The other mourners stared at Lady. Why wouldn’t they? She stood out. She vibrated, almost, in that quiet church. She was beautiful. Fin liked her hair, which was long. He liked her teeth. She thought they were too big, but she was wrong. She was like a horse. Not one of the Pounds’ heavy Morgan horses with short sturdy necks and thick clomping legs. She was like a racehorse. Jittery. Majestic. Her long neck and long legs—and her face, too. She had a horsey face, in a beautiful way. And bangs, like a forelock. He’d told her that, the last time he’d seen her. He had been five. “You look like a horse,” he’d said. “Charming,” said Lady. “Me and Eleanor Roosevelt.” He had not meant that at all. Eleanor Roosevelt, whose picture he’d seen in the newspaper, did not look like a horse. More like his grandmother. Big, sloping breast. Important face. He meant that Lady’s eyes were huge and dark, that her cheekbones were high and pronounced, that her face was aristocratic and long, that her hair flew in the wind like a mane, that she was coltish even in her movements of tentative wildness and reckless dignity. He didn’t know that he meant all that when he was five. He just knew that she reminded him of a horse. He was eleven now. He had not seen her for six years. She still reminded him of a horse. “A racehorse,” he had added when he was five, and Lady had smiled and said, “Oh, that’s all right, then.”

When the funeral was over, Lady would not allow him to go to the grave site.

“It’s barbaric,” she said to Mr. and Mrs. Pound.

They looked at her with shocked faces, pinched by hurt at what they, rightly, took to be Lady’s dismissal of every aspect of almost two thousand years of religious tradition.

“The kid is hanging on by his eyelids,” she said.

“I saw Daddy buried,” Fin said. “And Grandma and Grandpa.”

“I rest my case,” said Lady.

“You’re the boss,” Mr. Pound said. He heaved a sigh, then he shook Fin’s hand and wished him luck in his new life.

Mrs. Pound hugged him and said he’d make his mother proud in heaven, and then he did start to cry and ran outside.

Humiliating, to cry at his age. Babies cried. The Pounds had a baby, a bald sticky one that screamed for no reason, out of the blue. Mrs. Pound would pick it up and hug it. Fin wanted to shake it, although, really, he could not imagine even touching it. It was an obnoxious baby. “I’ll give you something to cry about,” Fin’s father used to say. Then he died. The Pounds’ baby had its parents. Stuart was its name. Fin had taken one of its toys and given it to the dog. The baby didn’t even notice.

*   *   *

Lady found him outside, pressed against the side of the church, still crying like Stuart, who didn’t even know enough to realize his toy had been stolen.

“Go away,” he said.

“Fat chance.”

“Leave me alone.”

“Come on, pal.” She took his hand, gently.

“Just please go away.”

He tried to pull his hand back. Lady did not let go. Instead, she gave a violent pull.

“Hey!” he said. “Quit it.” She had almost yanked him off his feet.

“See?” she said. “Nothing like a good shock. No more tears! Poof! Just like hiccups.”

They walked toward the parking lot. He kept what he hoped was a safe distance. His father had called Lady a loose cannon. Among other things.

“Come on, Finino,” she said, reaching out, taking his hand. Her voice was so gentle.

Finino. That’s what she’d called him the first time he saw her.

“Come on, Finino,” she said again. “Let’s go home.”

*   *   *

Lady’s car was a turquoise convertible, a Karmann Ghia, and driving in the tiny sports car with the sky above him diverted Fin for the ten-minute trip back to the house.

When they got there, Fin and Lady stood for a moment on the porch.

“Now, Fin,” she said, a hand on each shoulder, surveying him, “this has been a tragedy of monstrous proportions.”

Monstrous proportions. Fin remembered how much he loved the way Lady spoke. Sometimes she sounded like the ladies in slinky dresses in old movies on TV. Sometimes she sounded like a cowboy. Monstrous proportions. It was a tragedy, it was monstrous, a monster so big he would never get past it.

“So. Of course you’ll want a nice bath and then a nap.”

“No thank you.” He looked down at the worn boards of the porch. They needed paint. He had helped his grandfather paint them just two years ago, holding the brushes mostly, cleaning them with turpentine and a rag.

“No? Really? That’s what I do, you know, when tragedy strikes. A nice stiff drink, a soak in the tub, a nap…”

A stiff drink. That’s a good one, Fin thought.

“I’m eleven,” he said.

“Ah,” she said. “Too old for a nap, too young for a drink. Is that what you’re saying?”

He felt shy in front of Lady. She was so vivid. Everything about her. Her dress was inches shorter than any dress he’d ever seen, and though it was a good sober navy blue like his suit, it had incongruous bright white piping along the edges that seemed to be made of plastic. When she smiled, her head tilted back and her teeth emerged, white and straight except for one.

He heard the cows in the distance. They were in the upper pasture. Who would bring them down? Who would milk them?

“What about the cows?” he asked. “I can’t just leave them.” It was a sweltering day, and he stood in his heavy wool suit on his own porch in the heat, in the dull cushion of sadness he realized he must now carry with him every minute of every day. He wiped his eyes and his nose on his navy wool sleeve, leaving it stained and wet. He imagined the cows, abandoned, bony, and weak. “The cows,” he said, looking at Lady. “What about the cows?”

“Is that them? Mooing?” Lady took him by the hand. “Come on, Fin, let’s go see what they want. Cows!” she called out. “Oh, cows!”

Fin gave her a sideways glance to see if she was making fun of him, but she looked quite earnest. He led her past the manure pile, through the gate, over the hill in the lower pasture and into the green hills of the upper. The cows were gathered, flicking their tails, beneath a tree, two of them lying down, two standing facing the approaching humans.

Fin patted the two standing cows, Daisy and Darlington. They had been his mother’s favorites. Guernseys.

He looked back at Lady, who had kept her distance from the animals. Lady’s shoes—flat, not like his mother’s high heels, and white—were covered with mud and manure and grass stains.

“You ruined your shoes, I guess,” Fin said, a little guiltily.

“Are they okay? The cows?”

“I guess they are.”

“You do a lot of guessing, don’t you, Fin?”

He grinned. “I guess.”

They went back toward the house. Fin herded the cows through the gate with clucks and slaps on their rumps, determined not to cry again as he thought of leaving them. The cows would remain on the farm in their own barn awaiting his return when he was old enough to take care of them himself. Jim Cornelius was moving in and would look after the farm, Lady said. Fin liked plump, smiling Mr. Cornelius. He was the music teacher at school. But Mr. Cornelius did not belong on his grandparents’ farm, in his grandparents’ house. He belonged behind the upright piano in school, pounding out the notes and overenunciating the words of cheerful songs that made no sense:

Have you ever

Seen Quebec?

Don-key riding …

When they got back to the house, Fin’s suit was filthy, covered by a film of dust. He stood inside the door, leaning against the screen, weary and low. He wished Lady would offer him a glass of lemonade. His mother often made lemonade for him in the summer. But his mother was gone. She had died of cancer, a word that was whispered fearfully, as if even its enunciation might be deadly. The thought of her holding a glass out to him in those last weeks before she was moved to the hospital, her emaciated arm trembling, her face drawn and purposefully cheerful, made him miss her in a way he had not yet had time to do. How could he, with all the sympathetic fussing of neighbors interrupting him every time he sat down to think? They meant well. But sometimes you need to be alone. He felt alone, even surrounded by neighbors and pie. But sometimes you need to really be alone. He glanced at Lady and got the feeling that would be no problem in the future.

More than anything he had ever wanted before, he wanted at that moment to bury his face in his mother’s shoulder one more time. But there was only Lady. She tilted her head and gazed back at him curiously until he finally found the courage to ask her if he could get a glass of water.

“Water is for washing,” she said gaily. But she followed him into his grandmother’s kitchen, watched him get a glass out of the cupboard and hold it under the tap, then lighted a cigarette and watched him drink.

“What about Gus?” he asked when he’d finished.


“Our dog.” He paused. Then: “My dog.”

“Oh God. A mutt, too?”

“He’s not a mutt. He’s a collie.”

“Shouldn’t it stay here with its flock of cows? Won’t it be sad without them?”

“He would be sad without me.” What Fin didn’t say was that he would be sad without Gus, but Lady didn’t need him to, it appeared.

“Oh God,” she said again. “Well, where is Rin Tin Tin hiding, anyway?”

He was at the Pounds’.

“He’s at the pound? Good grief, they couldn’t wait until after the funeral?”

“No,” Fin said. “The Pounds, the people you met, the people who took care of me.”

“Thank God,” she said. “I do not approve of euthanasia, Fin. Remember that. If it ever comes up.”

“What’s euthanasia?”

“Come on,” she said.

Fin had packed his clothes in a large suitcase. A pair of blue jeans, two pairs of cotton slacks for school, his shirts. His sneakers. Two sweaters. His winter jacket. He hadn’t been sure what to pack, really. He had never packed for himself. His toothbrush. He had almost forgotten it. In a box he’d put his baseball glove, toy soldiers, comics, models, books, and records. He wondered if Lady had a record player.

“The rest will be put in storage, Finny. So don’t worry.”

“This is all I have,” he said. “There is no other stuff. No stuff that’s mine.”

“I’m afraid it’s all yours now.” Lady pointed to his grandmother’s collection of little Delft houses, to the needlepoint pillows, to the cranberry glass and the wooden rocking chair—to everything in the house. And then she pointed out the windows. “The cows, too, Finny.”

It hit Fin then for the first time that he was really leaving. It hit him then, and not for the last time, that nothing would ever be the same again.


Copyright © 2013 by Cathleen Schine

Read More

Customer Reviews

Average Review:

Write a Review

and post it to your social network


Most Helpful Customer Reviews

See all customer reviews >

Fin & Lady: A Novel 3.7 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 68 reviews.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
This book made me laugh out loud, and brought me to tears. It's very powerful because the characters are so vivid.  All of them, not just Fin and the enigmatic Lady. I loved every nuance of the story and all the brilliant characters. I didn't  live through the '60s, but the period came alive for me in Shine's wonderful novel. 
AlanAbrams More than 1 year ago
This is a charming book full of emotion. The writing pops off the page. Highly recommended.
quaintinns More than 1 year ago
Set in the 60’s during the civil rights movement and the Vietnam War, hippies, Woodstock, and carefree living, a story of a boy named Fin who has lost his parents at age 8 yrs. old has found he now is in the care of his older, bohemian carefree and beautiful sister named Lady. (Set in Greenwich Village, New York, Connecticut, Capri, and Italy, among other world travels and enchanting adventures with an array of color characters). She is most definitely not parent material, as runs from responsibility -- enjoys living life to the fullest and adventure. Fin and Lady become a team as Fin enjoys the highs and not so much the lows. As Lady begins worrying about being a single spinster, she begins dating many suitors and of course, Fin is in the center of her friends and men and has an opinion of each. Fin becomes more of a parent at sometimes more so than Lady. Fin gets to experience travel and culture--subjected to worldly cultures well beyond his young age. A beautiful story; however, the audio gets very long and drawn out. I would like to have Fin be more of the main central character with more depth from him, versus of Lady and more history of Lady before she takes over as Fin’s guardian. I think the book was funny at some points and liked Bithie and did not care for the parts of Lady with Michelangelo as it separated the Fin/Lady. Will not disclose other spoiler parts which come towards the end of the novel as the book comes full circle, making the book worth reading. This is my first book by Cathleen Schine and would definitely read more. Not my usual type of book; however, think the narrator did a great job and would recommend.
Jamie6 More than 1 year ago
A wonderfully entertaining book set smack dab in the 60s. The characters are all very well developed (not just Fin and Lady). The storyline is also very entertaining. The 1960s setting is spot on cool.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Loved spending time with this book, which acknowledges life's deepest moments without drowning in them. Read it.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I find this book to be a boring read. Every chapter is a repeat of the one before. I keep reading in hopes that there is some hidden purpose or something that will happen to give me that "ahha" moment.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I lvoe Cathleen Schine's writing. I read this book in three days. She creates characters that you care about.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
MOONSHADOW67 More than 1 year ago
Good story about relatives and survival.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Would give more stars if I could.  A wonderful, wonderful book.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Loved it,could not put it down,and now sorry I finished it.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
I admit I like Cathleen Schine very much but not indiscriminately. That said, she is a master story teller with beautiful character development. Fin and Lady was no exception. With many lovable characters and a great tight plot line I highly recommend Fin and Lady to everyone. As a New Yorker it is fun to see the different parts of the city thru other's eyes. Enjoy this and her book The New Yorkers.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Anonymous More than 1 year ago