The Library of Lost and Found
by Phaedra Patrick

 

My Rating:

Favorite Quotes:

 

Martha’s cheeks began to burn. If she touched them with a wet finger they might hiss.

 

“He said he liked your traumatic reading.” Martha hoped she meant dramatic reading.

 

“Is it true he was on board that fishing boat, that cat’s-eyed?” “Capsized?”

 

“We’ll just do a little trim,” Suki said. The bells on her ankle bracelet jingled as she circled Martha, peering into her hair as if she was looking for eggs in a large bird’s nest.

 

“Sometimes putting things to rest from your past can be catholic.” “Do you mean cathartic?”

 

I’m having a crustacean section next week.” “A cesarean?” … “The baby is lying in a beach position.” “Do you mean breach?”

 

My Review:

 

Ms. Patrick taunted me with her cunning and maddeningly paced story, I reviled this family – they were simply heinous. I enjoyed the cleverly placed use of the levity the amusing quirk of Suki’s poor auditory discrimination and confused vocabulary skills, which helped to counteract and ease the frustrating and prevalent miasma of angst and oppression. I deeply despised the selfish and abhorrent Machiavellian father as well as the mousy mother who allowed it – which was equally as vile, as was the manipulative and favored younger sister. I wanted to administer some foot to posterior therapy to those three.   Yet, despite my irritation, I could not stop reading.

 

I adored Zelda, the colorful and unconventional Nana, although I had no pleasant thoughts for the rest of them – as they were all conniving and disingenuous conspirators. I was taut with tension and grinding my teeth, but I was invested and entrenched, and could not leave my Kindle for more than a few minutes.

 

I was impatient and greatly annoyed with the spineless main character of Martha for not only rolling over and allowing her continual subjugation but extended her servitude to every Tom, Dick, and Harry she knew. She permitted herself to be treated like a doormat and willingly gave her power away, which is an issue I have very little patience with.   Yet, I could not walk away and leave her story hanging.

 

I was frustrated, bitterly antagonized, and fully vexed; yet I had to see where this aggravating tale was going. I was hooked, intrigued, and ruthlessly curious about a deeply buried thirty-year-old secret about Nana. I am delighted and pleased with myself now for sticking with it, as the last few chapters ushered in a totally unexpected, stoical, laconic, and quietly observant hero, as well as writing so poignant that my vision was inexplicably blurred and an odd wetness seemed to be leaking from my eyes while I simultaneously experienced an uncomfortable squeezing in my chest and the sensation of several hot rocks in my throat. What madness! This was my first experience of the unpredictably wily skills of Phaedra Patrick – she is a crafty one.