A young doctor is forced to deliver his own twins on a winter night in 1964. One is a healthy boy, the other, a girl-has down syndrome. While his wife is groggy, he makes a decision to give away his daughter to ab institute. He tells his wife that the baby girl died. The nurse he has tasked to do this, however, feels horrible and decides to take the baby girl as her own.
Unfortunately, in my opinion, this is where the good stuff/good plot ends. The rest of the book chronicle the twins, Paul and Phoebe, as they grow up. (1964-1989). Their father, Dr. David Henry, attributes every misfortune and sorrow in his life as a consequence from the secret he has kept from his wife, even until his death.
Mainly using photographs as metaphors, this book excellently shows the growth and decline of the family. It also explores each character’s memory and how their personal history has shaped their present thinking/attitude. Highly acclaimed by book reviews and female authors (of the same genre, I believe–Jodi Picoult, Sue Monk Kidd, Luanne Rice)Too much feelings. Too many pages. It’s a book that screams “I am written by a woman!”
My sister bought me this book and I wish I had just borrowed it from the library. I am highly UN-mesmerized.
