Brodeur’s story is one of the most talked about memoirs of the year — and for good reason. With eloquent prose and a surprising ability to write about her own life as a journalist would, she reveals — for the first time — the truth of her relationship with her mother, Malabar. While Brodeur’s story isn’t as redemptive as other childhood memoirs like The Glass Castle, it is still both memorable and important, and it kept me fully engaged.
The Nest is family drama to the max. It (surprisingly) reminded me of Fates and Furies in that it’s a sweeping saga of several characters over the course of their relationships together. But where Fates and Furies is somewhat depressing (albeit in the most well-written way), The Nest is more lighthearted.
Before The Lowland, I had only read short stories by Lahiri (Interpreter of Maladies, specifically). I was a bit hesitant to read this one because I worried Lahiri wouldn’t deliver the same quick, lasting impact of many of her stories, but I was not disappointed.
The flags along Forsyth whip lazily back and forth in the late afternoon breeze from the harbor while the summer sun slides down the sky, like the ice cream slowly dripping down the side of a little girl’s waffle cone. She’s standing next to the reflecting pool with her dad, watching her reflection ripple and giggling as he makes faces at her in the water. She wants to hold his hand, but hers is covered in vanilla ice cream. She licks a sprinkle off her pinky before it falls onto her pants and smiles up at her dad in triumph – it doesn’t matter that a few drops have already made their way from her chin onto the collar of her pink polo.