Staff Review: Sweetbitter by Stephanie Danler

Sweetbitter by Stephanie Danler is not the sort of book I normally read, but my daughter works in the restaurant business, so we decided to read it together. She read a paper copy and I listened to audio. This novel earned its young debut-author a six-figure advance but it's meeting with mixed reviews; critics are swooning but readers aren't so smitten: on Goodreads, they're more inclined to three stars.

Sweetbitter tells the story of Tess, a 22-year-old Midwesterner who, in 2006, leaves home to move, solo, to New York City, where she quickly lands a back-waiter position at one of New York's most prestigious restaurants (a loosely disguised Union Square Café).

What follows is the narrative of her exhilarating, heartbreaking, exhausting, energizing new life. There's a great deal of food and wine talk, lots and lots of drugs, and a generous helping of sex. Foodies will enjoy the book for the truffles, figs, and oysters alone. It's the alcohol- and drug-fueled decadence that seems to turn some readers off, but my daughter confirms that the lifestyle Danler depicts is spot-on for many in the industry.

Sweetbitter looks, and occasionally reads, like a nice bit of fluff, but the novel is more than a beach book. It's got some meat on its bones. For one thing, Danler can write and she has a wonderful eye for the telling detail, whether it's the look, smell, and feel of a rapidly altering New York City or the devastating after-effects of an over-the-top binge. The rigors of restaurant work are nicely drawn too, and we get a genuine feel for staff camaraderie, liaisons, and clashes, the flawless nights of almost-choreographed service and the nights that are slapstick fiascos.

I found the book's ending to be something of a disappointment. That aside, what impressed me most about the book is the author's psychological acuity. She describes her character's loneliness in the vast, churning city, or her sudden recognition of the shallowness of her staff friendships, and the reader feels these things too. For all her callow youth, Tess's observations are often wise beyond her years and it's a testament to the author that they so often ring true.

Audio Notes: the audiobook narrator takes a little getting used to --  her voice is husky, characterized by what reviewers call "vocal fry," but once I adjusted, I enjoyed her nuanced reading. She's great with accents too and has some fun with southern, Bronx, and heavy Russian ones. 

~Ann, Adult Services

Staff Review: Did You Ever Have a Family by Bill Clegg

Did You Ever Have a Family, a debut novel by Bill Clegg, opens with a bang. Literally. A big one. In the scale of the whole wide world, it may not be a cataclysm, but in the more modest scale of family and community it's catastrophic. In an instant the novel's main character loses everyone and everything; she's rendered family-less in the blink of an eye, yet she must find a way to go on. What choice does she have, other than suicide?

By this point you may be thinking this book does not sound like a feel-good read and that you probably ought to avoid it. But that would be a mistake. I found it to be one of the most moving, most human, and ultimately most redemptive novels I've read this past year and I heartily recommend it.

After the opening big bang, Clegg beautifully and succinctly relates not only the incident's aftermath but also years of backstory -- the relationships and events -- that lead to this particular cast of doomed characters being together in one place on the incendiary day. The wider network of relatives, friends, acquaintances, and even service workers affected by the tragedy, closely or tangentially, is painstakingly introduced, person by person within their own chapters, their individual humanities brought to life in a series of exquisite scenes that move from the affluent Connecticut 'burbs of New York City through Montana and Idaho and on to the turbulent coast of the Pacific Northwest.

What is particularly impressive about this novel is the even-handed and compassionate way in which Clegg presents his characters, people of very different income and educational levels, racial backgrounds, sexual preferences, and social standing. The catastrophe at the core of the plot has wounded them all and in their raw vulnerability they slowly rise to the occasion, becoming more rather than less, reaching out to one another, and, in the end, forming new communities based not upon occupation, class, or local reputation, but upon more basic and authentic aspects of being human.

Before tackling fiction, Clegg, a literary agent, wrote two memoirs about his own devastating drug addiction; it seems his descent into the abyss and eventual restoration are serving him well in his fiction.

~Ann, Adult Services

Staff Review: Kitchens of the Great Midwest by J. Ryan Stradal

Many readers are calling J. Ryan Stradal's debut novel Kitchens of the Great Midwest "quirky." The way I'd describe it -- and a reader's possible reaction to it -- is this: it may not be your cup of tea if you love linear plots, character development, and satisfying resolutions. On the other hand, you may love it if you're open to vivid vignettes, you love eating (and reading about) food, and you have a big, broad sense of humor. Living in the northern Midwest (in Dubuque, for instance) will dispose you toward it too.

Although labeled a novel, Kitchens more closely resembles a set of linked stories, in the first half of which Eva Thorvald, the protagonist, is a child. Eva is gifted with an exceptional palate and through the course of the book's twenty years becomes the most celebrated chef in America, one whose exquisite dishes are available only through highly-sought-after, ticketed dinners at venues across the U.S. The second half of the book circles around Eva more distantly, through the exquisitely-portrayed (and sometimes skewered) lives of a large cast of secondary characters. 

Although there were a couple times early on when I considered dropping the book altogether (one chapter in particular just seemed too dark and too mean), I soldiered on and I'm so glad I did. I soon found myself laughing out loud, recognizing fictional characters that matched (to a T) individuals I'd known in Wisconsin, and marveling at the heartfelt poignance of some of the scenes. Originally from Minnesota, Stradal is a confident debut writer, maybe because writing is just one thing he does well (he's also a TV producer who knows a bit about food and a whole lot more about wine -- food and wine pairings feature prominently in the novel).

In the funniest parts, Stradal pokes gentle fun at Midwestern county-fair-bake-sale participants (who apparently haven't changed much since the fifties), but also at those hyper-fastidious eaters within the new food culture who are more obsessed with what they can't or won't eat than with what they can or will. A New York Times reviewer points out in a positive review that describes Kitchens as "a gastronomic portrait of a region," that "Stradal reserves his most gleeful satire for the overwrought foodies who rock back and forth in their chairs, weeping and licking their dishes, in response to a $5,000-a-plate dinner for which they’ve spent four years on the waiting list."

So, set aside any pre-conceived notions of what a novel should be and hop aboard for this fun, fast-moving ride. You may even decide to read the book twice, as the large cast of characters who re-appear only after the passage of many pages and years can be tricky to keep track of first time 'round (the book ought to come with a schematic). I wouldn't want to read book after book structured this way, but like the occasional gooey dessert, this book was pretty delicious.

~Ann, Adult Services