With wry, streamlined wit and almost ruthless efficiency, [Attenberg] distill[s] the essence of her characters . . . Even minor players are so sharply sketched that they feel immediately familiar, and the cultural markers ring true, too, from the crosscurrents of second- and third-wave feminism to the gold-rush opportunism of the early tech boom . . . . From her, I’d take 10 more chapters of unhappily ever after.” — New York Times Book Review (Editors' Choice)
“From Jami Attenberg, doyen of absorbing family excavations, 37 years in the life of the Cohens: a closeted patriarch, his foundering widow, their daughters, poles apart.” — Vanity Fair
“[A] wry novel about love, loss, and inherited trauma.” — Time
“[A] dramatic, page-turning novel.” — People
“A moving epic about the endurance of family love.” — Real Simple
"When their father passes, the Cohen sisters and their mother seem rudderless and strike out in opposite directions. Spanning 40 years, this moving saga asks if love can heal brokenness." — Saturday Evening Post
"Entertaining and empathetic. . . . Attenberg knows how to imperil her characters and love them at the same time. . . . Readers will happily sit with these women through it all.” — Booklist (starred review)
“The vicissitudes of [Attenberg’s] characters are undeniably absorbing.” — Kirkus Reviews
“Attenberg’s nuanced latest . . . . is carried along by deliciously realistic descriptions of the Cohens’ complex relationships. It’s an admirable portrait of a distinctly unhappy family.” — Publishers Weekly
“Attenberg knows where to shine a spotlight to reveal characters' personalities and dynamics . . . . [Her] characters are as loveable as they are maddening, and the combination of choices and luck makes the novel's events feel as random—and genuine—as real life. . . . [A] masterful dysfunctional family story.” — Shelf Awareness
“Glimmers of humor lift a narrative that time-hops and head-hops, as the Cohen women come together and fall apart, squabble and make up. . . . Attenberg’s fans will enjoy this novel, as will those who like sharply observed dysfunctional mother-daughter stories.” — Library Journal
“I loved leaping through time with the four Cohen women—Frieda, Nancy, Shelly, and Jess. Each woman is intelligent and self-sabotaging—the way we all can be—and they love each other fiercely, often from a careful distance. Attenberg’s writing is sharp and incisive—it’s a pleasure to watch the patterns she created unfold over forty years of these women’s lives.” — Ann Napolitano, author of Hello Beautiful and Dear Edward
08/01/2024
The Cohen women—mother Frieda and daughters Shelly ("the smart one") and Nancy ("the pretty one")—wobble and weave their way through the late 20th and early 21st centuries in novelist and memoirist Attenberg's (All This Could Be Yours) 10th book. With the death of the family's patriarch, closeted Holocaust survivor Rudy, each woman goes her own way; both daughters are eager to escape Frieda's sharp tongue and angry parenting. Math whiz Shelly heads to the West Coast to be part of the burgeoning computer scene, while Nancy gets pregnant and marries her cagey college sweetheart. Frieda moves to Miami, where she nearly drinks herself to death. Glimmers of humor lift a narrative that time-hops and head-hops, as the Cohen women come together and fall apart, squabble and make up. Nancy's quietly rebellious daughter Jess joins the fray, ping-ponging between her aunt and her mother. Some of the many side characters seem to function mainly as plot points, especially the men, who are thinly drawn, but this only accentuates the maddening vividness of the Cohen women. VERDICT Attenberg's fans will enjoy this novel, as will those who like sharply observed dysfunctional mother-daughter stories.—Liz French
The pervasive emotion of this audiobook is grievance, largely in the form of "Mom didn't love me enough." Three generations of Cohen women complain their way through four decades, finding different levels and varieties of success, largely without men. Stacey Glemboski brings the text to life with a vividly emotional reading, but the women tend to sound very much alike. They ARE very much alike--even the one who shaves her head and gets tattoos, is, in relation to her family, mostly just a kvetch. Glemboski differentiates them with subtle shifts of tone and timbre, and there is no confusion as to who is speaking, but it's hard to care about conflicts among characters so similar. D.M.H. © AudioFile 2024, Portland, Maine
2024-06-15
Attenberg follows the women of one family for almost four decades, exploring how each woman’s self-image and ambitions impact—and are impacted by—the others.
In 1971, the Cohens spend Saturday nights as a family playing Scrabble in suburban Chicago. Ailing Holocaust survivor Rudy loves his family but maintains a separate, private life. His wife, Frieda, struggles with anxiety and insecurity. Mild-natured 16-year-old Nancy knows she will always be less special than her brilliant, emotionally intense sister, 12-year-old Shelly. With Rudy’s early death a few years later, the family splinters. Frieda moves to Florida and spirals into alcoholic poverty. Shelly becomes a rising star in Seattle’s tech startup world. Nancy quits college to have a baby, embracing the debatable security of a shaky marriage. Careerist Shelly cannot relate to defensively domestic Nancy, and both avoid contact with troubled Frieda. In the years that follow, the women’s professional and emotional trajectories twist and turn in predictable yet sometimes surprising ways. Nancy’s daughter, Jess, grows into a young woman more comfortable in her skin (literally, given her tattoos) than her forebears and becomes their point of connection. While Attenberg organizes the narrative around vaguely ironic subject headings—“Affairs,” “Emergencies,” etc.—her message is clear: Belonging to a family can be redemptive, whatever its deficiencies. Sexual identity and secrecy are other major themes. Undercurrents of romantic love between women sprout and flourish, while male characters fare badly. Only Rudy, whose homosexuality remains a secret until uncovered by Shelly and a delighted Jess years after his death, is lovable. The straight men are detestable. Both Nancy’s husband and Shelly’s boss do considerable harm thanks to “wandering dick disease.” Shelly’s husband is an obnoxious irrelevance. Attenberg can be harsh; her wry authorial voice creates an emotional distance even from the women, as do her occasional asides telegraphing the future. But the vicissitudes of her characters are undeniably absorbing.
A sometimes sweet, sometimes bitter take on family dynamics.
