By Francine Prose
On the heart of Francine Prose's profoundly relocating new novel is a tender woman dealing with the implications of unexpected loss after the dying of her sister. As her mom and dad waft towards their very own dicy consolations, thirteen-year-old Nico is left on my own to grope towards realizing and readability, falling right into a seductive, risky dating along with her sister's enigmatic boyfriend.
Over one haunted summer season, Nico needs to face that life-changing second whilst little ones become aware of their mom and dad can now not support them. She learns in regards to the strength of paintings, of time and position, the secret of loss and restoration. yet for the entire darkness on the novel's center, the narrative itself is radiant with the lightness of summer time and charged via the stressed sexual stress of sweet sixteen life.
Goldengrove takes its position one of the nice novels of early life, beside Henry James's The Awkward Age and L. P. Hartley's The Go-Between.
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Additional resources for Goldengrove: A Novel
I didn’t want to tell him I shut him out because I couldn’t stomach what I thought was a glaring lapse in loyalty. I didn’t want to resurrect that Nate McCormick from the grave. I gave him an answer to his question without really giving him an answer. ” “Okay. Good. I’m sorry, you’re sorry. ” I wanted to get out of there. Murph’s almost desperate attempts to make amends, his clutching my wrist, his pleading, knocked me off balance. This ain’t really how the menfolk act with each other. 20 J O S H UA S PA N O G L E “I wish we’d had the chance to reconnect,” he said.
She stepped over to the couch, knelt in front of me, took my hands in hers. The towel was wet against my skin. “Nate, I’m scared, really scared. What these people did terriﬁes me. It terriﬁes me that you’d probably be dead if you’d shown up ten minutes earlier. It terriﬁes me that you want to ﬁnd these people, to let them into your life. You did that last year. ” Her eyes glistened. “Is this all about giving yourself some purpose?
I asked. Maybe some more small talk would break the logjam. ” This was going nowhere. I glanced at my watch. “Look, I should go ﬁnd Brooke. ” I scanned his face to see if maybe that would get Murph off his butt. It didn’t. “Give me a call when you’re ready to talk. Or not to talk. Whatever. ” He looked up at me, face straining a smile. “I don’t know how to approach this yet. I thought I did, but . . ” “Sure. No problem. ” I pulled out a pen, then remembered. ” He took out a card and handed it to me.