It’s been a while since my brain had to ping pong between two characters in a book trying to one-up each other in the “Yeah, I’m not a good person” department.
But honestly, Joni, WTF?
If your book club needs a new summer pick, stop looking. Corey Ann Haydu’s adult contemporary fiction debut, “Mothers and Other Strangers” is the PERFECT debate-starting, choose your sides and get ready to duke it out kind of read, and simply just as entertaining and engrossing as anything I’ve read lately.
It was an Independent Book Store Day purchase from Roscoe Books and the only place I saw this title all day long, so I’m thinking this may be a sleeper. Do not sleep on this book. It’s fantastic.
Sydney and Mae meet as preschoolers and become fast friends — resulting in a fast friendship between their mothers, Beth Ann (Sydney’s mother) and Joni, to whom Mae belongs. Presented in a back-and-forth past vs. present narrative, with all four characters taking turn as the protagonist, readers follow along with Mae and Sydney’s friendship and subsequent estrangement, their adult lives and an attempt to reconnect to the only thing that feels real — their friendship.
Bonus? You get tho take turns judging on Beth Ann and Joni, both of which somehow Haydu makes occasionally sympathetic, suggesting that it is possible to be a good parent even if you are just an awful person. (See? Absolutely crushing it when it comes to the topics you can cover in book club.)
Beth Ann is controlling and manipulative and heavily immersed in a pashmina pyramid scheme, trying desperately to make different choices for herself vicariously through her daughter’s life. Joni, on the other hand …. whew. She really takes her free spirit vibe to the next level, not quite grasping why it is that people won’t just be cool with her bending all the those irritating social mores most people subscribe to.
Both Sydney and Mae are the collateral damage of their parents’ poor life choices and seemingly doomed in some respects to repeat them. Sydney more than Mae, I suppose, with a husband that likely kinder than he comes across, having to squeeze his way past umpteen LillyLou pashmina boxes stacked up in their apartment, wares unsold.
Haydu takes great care to develop both these characters, as girls and as women, so much so that I often had to stop and think about how an interaction touched me more than I expected, or re-read a passage to become immersed in the feeling. It was somewhat of a side relationship within the story, but I am going to be thinking about Mae and Georgie for days. I’ve been on the shitty end of that convo before. Hang in there, Mae. It’s not you, it’s Georgie.
Interestingly enough, too — it’s the second book in a row I’ve read where social media just ends up feeling so gross. The hypocrisy of my book blog and Insta, I know. I swear I will never try to sell you anything other than a great book rec, and that’ll always be free.
LitzyDitz 