DaveNash3 reviewed Goldengrove by Francine Prose
Review of 'Goldengrove' on 'Storygraph'
4 stars
Prose skilfully how grief and adolescences in this novel about a young girl who loses a sister and has a crush on her dead-sisters boyfriend. Goldengrove comes from a Hopkins poem: Spring and Fall about the loss of innocence in a young girl. Goldengrove plays on that along with some the black and white classics like Vertigo and Casablanca. Goldengrove was also Jill Patton Walsh book about a girl with down syndrome on the Cornish coast of England, I'm not sure if that has anything to do with that book.
This and Blue Angel are two of the best novel's I read all year. There's the old movie references, the dense parents and the creepy bad romance in both, they are just in a different New England setting.
The supporting character Sally was better written than Elaine. While Nico is a thirteen year old girl in the story and telling …
Prose skilfully how grief and adolescences in this novel about a young girl who loses a sister and has a crush on her dead-sisters boyfriend. Goldengrove comes from a Hopkins poem: Spring and Fall about the loss of innocence in a young girl. Goldengrove plays on that along with some the black and white classics like Vertigo and Casablanca. Goldengrove was also Jill Patton Walsh book about a girl with down syndrome on the Cornish coast of England, I'm not sure if that has anything to do with that book.
This and Blue Angel are two of the best novel's I read all year. There's the old movie references, the dense parents and the creepy bad romance in both, they are just in a different New England setting.
The supporting character Sally was better written than Elaine. While Nico is a thirteen year old girl in the story and telling it looking back after she's grown, there are some comments about a fake rolex and male enhancement pills that don't fit the character.
However the image of the barren trees on the first hot day in early May is perfect. I thought these sentance were spot on:
She'd swoop past me, a salon-streaked stoner cockatoo. She'd say, "Nico, darling, how are you?" But she was only asking the air and didn't wait for an answer.
The easiest thing to do is to do what your are told.
The only thing that consoled me for not being beautiful like Margaret was seeking how her beauty caused a crackling in the weather between her and our mother.
And bang, they were off and running, telling me about grief and its life span, its half-life and its resilience, the ebb and flow, the sneak attacks, the unpredictable setbacks.
