The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cakeby Aimee Bender
On the eve of her ninth birthday, unassuming Rose Edelstein bites into her mother's homemade lemon-chocolate cake and discovers she has a magical gift: she can taste her mother’s emotions in the slice. To her horror, she finds that her cheerful mother tastes of despair. Soon, she’s privy to the secret knowledge that most families keep
On the eve of her ninth birthday, unassuming Rose Edelstein bites into her mother's homemade lemon-chocolate cake and discovers she has a magical gift: she can taste her mother’s emotions in the slice. To her horror, she finds that her cheerful mother tastes of despair. Soon, she’s privy to the secret knowledge that most families keep hidden: her father’s detachment, her mother’s transgression, her brother’s increasing retreat from the world. But there are some family secrets that even her cursed taste buds can’t discern.
The Washington Post
“Moving, fanciful, and gorgeously strange.” —People
“One of the year’s highlights. Intense and compelling.” —The Oregonian
“Marvelous. . . . Few writers are as adept as Bender at mingling magical elements so seamlessly with the ordinary.” —San Francisco Chronicle
“A richly imagined, bittersweet tale.” —Vanity Fair
“Convincing and elegant. . . . A novel with a deeply involving plot, one full of provocative ideas.” —The Boston Globe
“Extraordinary. . . . Not just a deeply felt novel but one of the most inventive pieces of food writing in recent memory.” —Time Out New York
“Profound and eye-opening. . . . You feel—that rare and beautiful gift from a truly great book—woken up and unalone.” —The Globe and Mail (Toronto)
“Rose is an irresistible narrator: warm, witty and sharply observant. . . . Exuberant, life-affirming.” —The Miami Herald
“Oddly beautiful. . . . Will tempt you to see what talented writers can do when they rip little tears in the fabric of reality.” —The Washington Post
“The fairy-tale elements in her writing, far from seeming outlandish, highlight the everyday nature of her characters’ flaws and struggles. In Ms. Bender’s stories and novels, relationships and mundane activities take on mythic qualities.” —The Wall Street Journal
“Charming and wistful. . . . [Rose] studies her world with the thoroughness of a scientist but records her observations with the eye and ear of a poet.” —The Atlantic
“The fabulist elements of The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake are stunning, but what makes this novel a keeper is the sheer beauty of the language Bender uses to describe love.” —NPR, “Books We Like”
“[The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake] has the narrative momentum and clockwork plotting of any good mystery, but its bleak whimsy and clear-eyed rendering of domestic sorrow are Bender’s own. . . . Splendid.” —The Plain Dealer
“Rose comes of age while unraveling family secrets as strangely lucid as they are nightmarish. At its core . . . The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake encourages us all to make the most of our unique gifts while still finding a way to live in the so-called real world.” —O, The Oprah Magazine
“A dreamy novel. . . . This is one of the most pleasant books we’ve read all year.” —The New York Observer
“Deftly written. . . . There is a . . . sweetness to the book that turns it into something out of the ordinary.” —St. Louis Post-Dispatch
“Bender is the master of quiet hysteria. . . . She builds pressure sentence by sentence. . . . A little hiss of steam comes off the novel.” —Los Angeles Times
“A very special book.” —The Anniston Star
“Bender doesn’t write of ordinary people. She writes of magical creations, the things of fairy tales gone awry. . . . Part magic, part clean prose.” —Denver Post
“If you’ve ever wondered why people have such a hard time looking in strangers’ eyes as they walk down the street, this book, hard as it may be to face, is for you.” —LA Weekly
“There’s an evocative power in Bender’s work that lingers with a reader.” —The Christian Science Monitor
“[Bender] produce[s] stories that make one grateful for being ordinary.” —The Seattle Times
“[A] gentle, kindhearted novel. There’s a wistful quality to the almost fable-like tale that’s captured with near perfection in her understated prose. As in all fine novels, the Edelsteins’ story, in Aimee Bender’s telling, is one that reflects our own world back to us in a fresh and revealing way.” —Bookreporter.com
“The ultimate fact is that The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake is probably the strangest book you’ll never want to put down.” —Pittsburgh Tribune
“Aimee Bender creates a lilting, economical and finally tragic portrait of what it means to be a child in her exquisite new novel.” —Chicago Tribune
“Lemon Cake perfectly embodies Bender’s knack for simultaneously appealing to imagination, emotion, and intellect, combining an out-of-this-world premise with very much in-this-world characters.” —Portland Mercury
“Aimee Bender is also something of a sorceress who charges her stories with pure magic, and The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake is an example of what she does best.” —Jewish Journal
- Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
- Publication date:
- Product dimensions:
- 5.80(w) x 8.30(h) x 1.20(d)
- Age Range:
- 14 - 18 Years
Read an Excerpt
The Particular Sadness of Lemon CakeA Novel
By Aimee Bender
DoubledayCopyright © 2010 Aimee Bender
All right reserved.
It happened for the first time on a Tuesday afternoon,
a warm spring day in the flatlands near Hollywood, a light
breeze moving east from the ocean and stirring the black- eyed
pansy petals newly planted in our flower boxes.
My mother was home, baking me a cake. When I tripped up
the walkway, she opened the front door before I could knock.
How about a practice round? she said, leaning past the door
frame. She pulled me in for a hello hug, pressing me close to my
favorite of her aprons, the worn cotton one trimmed in sketches
of twinned red cherries.
On the kitchen counter, she’d set out the ingredients: Flour
bag, sugar box, two brown eggs nestled in the grooves between
tiles. A yellow block of butter blurring at the edges. A shallow
glass bowl of lemon peel. I toured the row. This was the week of
my ninth birthday, and it had been a long day at school of cursive
lessons, which I hated, and playground yelling about point
scoring, and the sunlit kitchen and my warm- eyed mother were
welcome arms, open. I dipped a finger into the wax baggie of
brown- sugar crystals, murmured yes, please, yes.
She said there was about an hour to go, so I pulled out my
spelling booklet. Can I help? I asked, spreading out pencils and
papers on the vinyl place mats.
Nah, said Mom, whisking the flour and baking soda
My birthday is in March, and that year it fell during an
especially bright spring week, vivid and clear in the narrow residential
streets where we lived just a handful of blocks south of
Sunset. The night- blooming jasmine that crawled up our neighbor’s
front gate released its heady scent at dusk, and to the north,
the hills rolled charmingly over the horizon, houses tucked into
the brown. Soon, daylight savings time would arrive, and even at
nearly nine, I associated my birthday with the first hint of summer,
with the feeling in classrooms of open windows and lighter
clothing and in a few months no more homework. My hair got
lighter in spring, from light brown to nearly blond, almost like
my mother’s ponytail tassel. In the neighborhood gardens, the
agapanthus plants started to push out their long green robot
stems to open up to soft purples and blues.
Mom was stirring eggs; she was sifting flour. She had one
bowl of chocolate icing set aside, another with rainbow sprinkles.
A cake challenge like this wasn’t a usual afternoon activity;
my mother didn’t bake all that often, but what she enjoyed most
was anything tactile, and this cake was just one in a long line of
recent varied hands- on experiments. In the last six months, she’d
coaxed a strawberry plant into a vine, stitched doilies from vintage
lace, and in a burst of motivation installed an oak side door
in my brother’s bedroom with the help of a hired contractor.
She’d been working as an office administrator, but she didn’t
like copy machines, or work shoes, or computers, and when my
father paid off the last of his law school debt, she asked him if
she could take some time off and learn to do more with her
hands. My hands, she told him, in the hallway, leaning her hips
against his; my hands have had no lessons in anything.
Anything? he’d asked, holding tight to those hands. She
laughed, low. Anything practical, she said.
They were right in the way, in the middle of the hall, as I
was leaping from room to room with a plastic leopard. Excuse
me, I said.
He breathed in her hair, the sweet- smelling thickness of it.
My father usually agreed with her requests, because stamped in
his two- footed stance and jaw was the word Provider, and he
loved her the way a bird- watcher’s heart leaps when he hears the
call of the roseate spoonbill, a fluffy pink wader, calling its lilting
coo- coo from the mangroves. Check, says the bird- watcher.
Sure, said my father, tapping a handful of mail against her back.
Rah, said the leopard, heading back to its lair.
At the kitchen table, I flipped through my workbook, basking
in the clicking sounds of a warming oven. If I felt a hint of anything
unsettling, it was like the sun going swiftly behind a cloud
only to shine straight seconds later. I knew vaguely that my parents
had had an argument the night before, but parents had
arguments all the time, at home and on TV. Plus, I was still busily
going over the bad point scoring from lunch, called by Eddie
Oakley with the freckles, who never called fairly. I read through
my spelling booklet: knack, knick, knot; cartwheel, wheelbarrow,
wheelie. At the counter, Mom poured thick yellow batter into a
greased cake pan, and smoothed the top with the flat end of a
pink plastic spatula. She checked the oven temperature, brushed
a sweaty strand of hair off her forehead with the knob of her
Here we go, she said, slipping the cake pan into the oven.
When I looked up, she was rubbing her eyelids with the pads
of her fingertips. She blew me a kiss and said she was going to lie
down for a little bit. Okay, I nodded. Two birds bickered outside.
In my booklet, I picked the person doing a cartwheel and colored
her shoes with red laces, her face a light orange. I made a
vow to bounce the ball harder on the playground, and to bounce
it right into Eddie Oakley’s corner. I added some apples to the
The room filled with the smell of warming butter and sugar
and lemon and eggs, and at five, the timer buzzed and I pulled
out the cake and placed it on the stovetop. The house was quiet.
The bowl of icing was right there on the counter, ready to go,
and cakes are best when just out of the oven, and I really
couldn’t possibly wait, so I reached to the side of the cake pan,
to the least obvious part, and pulled off a small warm spongy
chunk of deep gold. Iced it all over with chocolate. Popped the
whole thing into my mouth.
Excerpted from The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake by Aimee Bender Copyright © 2010 by Aimee Bender. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Meet the Author
Aimee Bender is the author of the novel An Invisible Sign of My Own and the collections The Girl in the Flammable Skirt and Willful Creatures. Her work has been widely anthologized and has been translated into ten languages. She lives in Los Angeles.
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This is an unusual little book which is told in the voice of a nine year old girl with a special talent. Rose can taste the mood and emotions of the people who have prepared the food she eats. It makes it very hard for her to eat food and enjoy it since she feels the emotions almost as physical pain. The book is hard to put it down. You, the reader, want to discover from where this strange gift comes and whether or not it can be controlled. The story takes you through parental relationships, sibling relationships and teenage relationships with all the drama these relationships encompass. It really holds your interest, but, in the end, there are a lot of questions left unanswered. Although the characters are well developed, they have holes in their history and explanations for particular behaviors fall short of the mark. Also, the paranormal plays a large role in this book, but it is not given enough importance. It is treated almost as an afterthought and yet the book turns on the supernatural capabilities of the characters. Often there are scenes and major events occurring which seem to require deeper exploration but they are passed over as if they are simply commonplace and are largely ignored by the characters. The disappearance of a brother is dismissed casually, as if, this happens all the time and he will reappear. Yet, it is not a casual disappearance. A father's inability to enter a hospital is dismissed as quirkiness when it is far more than that. Still, I would recommend the book. It is also a tender story about people who are unable to express their feelings in normal ways. They all harbor secrets. In the end, the nine year old child is a young woman who finds herself through trial and error as she works out her family issues and her personal ones. She seems the most well adjusted when the book concludes, as she makes use of her gift and learns to deal with her unusual life successfully. She, above all, seems to understand the people around her as well, and is accepting and forgiving of all their shortcomings.
Very interesting plot -- I couldn't put the book down until I found some closure. Bender uses exceptionally elegant language and poetic devices. The story is enthralling, albeit a bit dark and (at times) depressing. This book is one of a kind. A very fast read. The fusion of a real-life scenario, whimsical characteristics, and complete fantasy is perhaps a bit overwhelming -- but once again, I couldn't put it down.
At one point Bender describes popular, accomplished girls in a bicycle club as "living in a miraculous Escherian land that offered only downhills." Rose, Walter, Mom, Dad, Grandparents live in a land where they struggle uphill, yearning to take that Escherian path, but at the crest of a hill, when they've hardened their legs into muscular pistons, they soar into the air like ET. Bender's understated tone in discussing the most fantastic occurrences lulls the reader into thinking one way until she almost get whiplash at the turns. I think I may have to read everything Bender writes, distinctive punctuation and all.
I was intriqued by the premise of this story and couldn't wait to read the book. About 40 pages in, I kept wondering what was wrong with the book and why could I not make myself read it. (It actually made my head hurt). Besides the characters being dull and unimaginative, Bender's writing style is strange. Why did she choose not to put quotation marks around her characters remarks? This is a pretty basic thing and one that I was taught never to avoid. Where was her editor? I feel cheated and will not finish the book. Save your time and money and do not buy this book.
This book was extremely boring and I laboriously read through the ridiculous end of the plot.....if you want to call it that. I cannot understand how anyone could describe this book as "lovely". Bizarre premise for a book, and a complete waste of time!!!
I just can't. No matter how hard I try, I can't finish reading this book. When a friend told me about the book (she had not read it) I was intrigued and thought how great this idea was but the formatting and the lack of quote marks just ruin the reading experience. I have picked my nook up again and again to make an effort but to no avail. :-(
What a lovely book! The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake is the story of Rose Edelstein, a young girl who can taste people's feelings in the food they cook. As she struggles to come to terms with her magical skill she reaches out to the people around her - her mother whose hollowness taints family dinners, her silent and mysterious brother, his golden, sparkling, genius friend, and her befuddled, oblivious dad. Aimee Bender has an amazing ability to create intriguing and charming characters and then turn them loose to see what happens. It feels like the people in this book are so genuine and real, their actions so true to who they are, that they must have written they story themselves. Like the magical abilities possessed by the Edelsteins, it is often hard to pin down exactly what is happening and where the book is going. Yet the feelings evoked by her unique writing style are delightful. Reading this book was truly a magical experience! I will never taste food in the same way again.
I found the characters and overall story line to be quite brilliant. Although I did want more explanation on Rose's brothers gift, it was still enough explanation to get me to grasp it all and love it. It is also written extremely well. Great combinations of fantasy, thrill and emotion to carry you through the whole book. Although I did not find a beginning, middle and end with this book that is another reason why I loved it, it keeps you guessing the entire time. A must read for sure!
I saw this book in the store and chose "Read in Store" on my Nook, then I ended up purchasing the eBook. I found the beginning to be very engaging and fun and it drew me into the story. However, once in, there seemed to be something lacking, but I am not sure what. The story becomes very face-paced and then it felt like we rushed through the action and the characters and then the book ends -- with me wanting more. I wanted more resolution of the story and of the characters and I wanted a more complete ending. Other than that, it was entertaining.
This was a great idea but without a doubt one of the dumbest books I've ever read. By the end of it I felt cheated of the time I spent reading it and the money from my book budget to purchase it.
This is the perfect book for the type of person who can literally feel time pass or sense the depth of feelings in a room, and is overwhelmed by that at time while not ever wanting to really stop feeling it. It's thought provoking, heartbreaking, and in a strange way exhilarating.
I wanted to like this book BUT, it was so sad and the characters were detached from each other. The parents were self-absorbed and without real feeling. The mother was a trainwreck and an airhead. Father was clueless. The brother was a strange character and I really didn't understand what happened to him. The writing was such that, I just didn't get it. The main character, Rose, was a charming, tortured little girl, but when she grew up, she was depressed and lost. Just not a good read and yes, no punctuation was a real turn off. Buy a good vampire book (Sookie Stackhouse Series) if you want some escapism or fantasy!
I found the book difficult to read and the storyline unimaginative and lacking. I forced myself to finish the book for our book club and thought the ending was disappointing.
I started out enjoying this book and the original premise was interesting but the one thread of the plot line was just too far out there for me to suspend disbelief and enjoy.
To describe a story like this is almost impossible. I'll try to give it my best shot. We see a little girl, Rose, of nine, having her world turned upside down, as she comes to find she has a gift. Or is it a power, or curse? All depending how she comes to see it; to see within another's emotions, clearer than they, themselves, can, and with details that only she knows how to interpret. How does she keep this to herself? What does it do to her, and to her family, over time? We find out. Her family: Mother, father, brother, all have their secrets, and as she tastes her mother's food, she starts finding those secrets; They start to come to the surface. She has a grandmother who she's never seen, but sends strange gifts to the family. What do we learn from this reclusive grandmother, by way of these strange gifts? We learn about the family. Do we learn about ourselves in this process? That's left up to you. We see family photographs, where everyone interprets their settings as something different. We find more stories within stories, where history comes to us by way of the interpreter. Rose learns who these people are: Her mother, father, and brother. Rose learns about herself, as she grows within this family. This writer, Aimee Bender, takes us into the world of part science; part psychology, and part fairytale....and the remaining part is something so surreal, as to make you hold your breath, suspend those beliefs, and enter that world of sadness Rose finds, which makes you want to believe, or cry, or smile, as these hidden secrets start to surface...we're propelled through space, without realizing when, or if, we've taken that next breath. I literally couldn't sit this book down, until I came to the end. And when you come to the end, you know it's just the beginning. Aimee Bender is a fantastical, lyrical, interpretive writer. Her details catch you off guard, in a beautiful way; putting those details together, in her own uniqueness, will keep you spellbound.
I don't understand the negative comments. Loved this book
Enjoyed the writing style and even enjoyed the concept of the main character's special skill, but found the brother too weird to swallow. The end left a bitter taste...
I had a difficult time even finishing this book; set it aside 3 times. If was extremely strange, way beyond belief. Not enjoyable. One of the reviews on the jacket says it all.
I pushed myself to get to the end of this book just to see how it would conclude. It was a very strange story, and I don't think I would reccommend it to anyone.
This book was too bazaar for me. Couldn't get to the point where I wanted to keep reading it, had no Quotes at all so you didn't know if it was a sentence, a thought until it said (he said or she said) for the hundredth time. Too many repeats of the same thing. The editor did not do this book justice. Aimee find another editor for better reviews to boost your sales. Sorry.
Nine year old Rose Edelstein bites into her mother's homemade lemon cake and discovers she can taste her mother's emotions in the cake. Is this a magical gift or an enormous burden? From that day on food becomes the enemy. She can't eat anything without tasting the emotions of the person who made it. Factory processed food becomes her menu of choice because it is made mostly by machines that have no emotions. When she eats anything prepared by her mother she tastes the lies, desperation and despair. Food prepared by her brother without tasting how miserable he feels about his life. With the help of one of her brother's friends she tests herself and tries to understand the magnitude of this "gift". She tastes many things about her own family, secrets she wished she didn't know, but she also realizes there are some secrets her enhanced taste buds do not understand. Again this type of story is not one I would usually read and I think I will have to change, and add books with a little fantasy to my preferred genres. This book was a little sad and depressing in places but the story moved right along and kept the pages turning. I don't want to give the whole storyline away, but I will say it ended sooner than I would have liked. As Rose started to understand her ability and was moving ahead with her life, the story ended and I feel there was a little more to tell. With that said, I did like this book To find out more about this author, visit her web page at http://www.flammableskirt.com/home.html Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the Doubleday Publishing. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255 : "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising."
I am an avid reader and was very intrigued by this book. I had read a few positve reviews and purchased it last week. The book was utterly ridiculous. It moved very slowly, with very little dialogue. I made my self plow through to the end because I felt certain that there would be a huge "ah ha" moment. NOPE..Not even close. A complete waste of time and money. Not a redeeming quality to be found.
I really wanted to like this but the author's refusal to use quotation marks in dialogue is really annoying me. It conveys a passivity that is distracting from the story. I keep trying to figure out if the characters are thinking rather than speaking. Way too much work for a summer read.
A very unique book. I very much wished I had read this with a book club so I could have discussed a few of the occurrences.... (I don't want to give anything away). For the first part of the book, the author's writing style was what I noticed more so than the story - a bit choppy, short, and no use of quotation marks. But after a while I got into the story and was curious as to where it was heading. This book is a fantastical story, not saying that is good or bad, just keep it in mind while reading.