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readingwithhippos 's review for:
Margarettown
by Gabrielle Zevin
Maggie Towne is a woman with many layers. Zevin's narrator, N., learns quickly that to love her means to love many women at once, and he does—almost all of them, anyway. There's Marge, the middle-aged, droopy-breasted cynic, of whom he's not so fond, and Greta, in her thirties and suffering emotionally, about whom he's only heard murmurs. But there is appeal in seven-year-old May and teenager Mia, and even in wise Old Margaret, a friendly septuagenarian. Strange as it may seem, N.'s beloved Maggie embodies all these women at once, and he must find a way to live with them all.
As the book progresses, we learn N.'s reason for writing it: he is dying, and he wants his daughter Jane to know the story of his life with her mother, the multi-faceted Maggie. Suddenly the odd devices and magical details make sense—this isn't so much a factual history as it is a way for Jane to make sense of her parents' lives. N. is telling Jane a version of their story in which love and joy can still exist. Facts aren't particularly important here. Sometimes story takes precedence over truth, or maybe it reveals a better one.
I adored this book. I loved the sections that strained credulity, I loved the tempestuous but passionate relationship, and I loved the charming little recurring motifs. I'd read along and there would be another extra-long twin mattress, and I'd smile, because who would ever have picked an extra-long twin mattress as a symbol of love? Zevin must be a very creative and very wacky person.
This is the best book you've never heard of. It's a story that couldn't be told any other way. Try it out—I promise you won't regret your trip to Margarettown.
As the book progresses, we learn N.'s reason for writing it: he is dying, and he wants his daughter Jane to know the story of his life with her mother, the multi-faceted Maggie. Suddenly the odd devices and magical details make sense—this isn't so much a factual history as it is a way for Jane to make sense of her parents' lives. N. is telling Jane a version of their story in which love and joy can still exist. Facts aren't particularly important here. Sometimes story takes precedence over truth, or maybe it reveals a better one.
I adored this book. I loved the sections that strained credulity, I loved the tempestuous but passionate relationship, and I loved the charming little recurring motifs. I'd read along and there would be another extra-long twin mattress, and I'd smile, because who would ever have picked an extra-long twin mattress as a symbol of love? Zevin must be a very creative and very wacky person.
This is the best book you've never heard of. It's a story that couldn't be told any other way. Try it out—I promise you won't regret your trip to Margarettown.