April/May 2008 Book Club Selection: The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield

[Tarin]

The votes are in! The Thirteenth Tale by Diane Setterfield is the selection for the April/May period (contemporary/literary genre). Official discussion of the book will open on April 15th. Please don't post opinions until then, in order to give everyone an opportunity to finish the book. Happy reading!

[TanyaSue]

Yeah! I bought the right book. :) I'm a relatively slow reader and wanted to get a head-start. I'm 105 pages in. Looking forward to the discussion!

[righter1]

I've got it on CD... Will try to start it later this week. :)

[pprmint777]

Hot diggity! I have just under 200 pages left to the end. Maybe I'll finish at the same time everyone else does!

[colleen789]

I bought the book yesterday, and I stayed up half the night reading! It's an addictive read. I'm on page 140. I can't stop reading, but I hate to read it too fast because it is over too soon. I am looking forward to the discussions.

[ProfessorAlan]

looking forward,

[kelly]

Got the book this weekend. Hopefully I'll start reading tomorrow.

[Cymrugirl]

So everyone can be doubly happy on the 15th because their taxes will be finished and they can talk about the book. :D

[GentleJourneyAu]

I finished the book and my taxes are still not ready, darn it. Elaine

[Cymrugirl]

No fear, Elaine - it's not the fifteenth yet! Perhaps we should have opened discussion on the book on the 13th?

[Tarin]

Today's the day! :cool:

Overall: I thought The Thirteenth Tale was a whimsical, leisurely, and ultimately charming journey, peppered with delightful odes to book lore, an intriguing plot, and a masterful narration. All in all, I found it an enjoyable read. But I can't help mourning its lack of depth. In a story that resounded with moral, philosophical, and imaginative wonderings, the author skipped the opportunity for thematic depth. Save for this point, I have little of significance to complain about; but, I believe, it is this point that robbed the book of its power.

The reader never gets an idea of why all these strange and horrible things happened (both to Vida Winter and Margaret Lea); the significance of "twin-ness" is never explored; the guilt and sorrow that prompted Miss Winter to engage Margaret's biographical skills is touched upon only in passing. We never get a feeling for the larger message behind this story - if, indeed, there is one. Had Setterfield given her story a stronger thematic underpinning, I think she might have had a potential classic on her hands. But because the story doesn't resonate on a level deeper than the intellectual, it is relegated to nothing more than an enjoyable one-time read. For me, anyway.

There's always a danger in writing a story in which a character is fascinated with the story itself. When a character starts raving about a story that the reader may only find mediocre, the author not only risks the mediocrity but also ridicule. But Setterfield pulls it off nicely - mostly because she avoids mediocrity, but also because she never allows Margaret to gush over Miss Winter's story. We feel Margaret's involvement with the story through her actions more than her explanation.

I give it 4 out 5 stars (although I think with the passing of a bit more time, after the story has settled in my subconscious, I'll end up dropping my opinion to 3 stars).

The Good"
*Unique premise. Although she necessarily employed known plot devices throughout the story, the premise itself is quite original and enjoyable.

*Precision of the language. Despite her metaphors occasionally wandering into vagueness, Setterfield's prose is beautifully specific and vibrant. Words like lintel, lych-gate, and macula roll around the page with intoxicating prowess.

*Letter opening. I thought the opening letter was a charming device. Instead of forcing the reader to sit through Margaret's recounting of Miss Winter's back story, Setterfield uses the strange letter to capture our attention even as she captures Margaret's. Nevertheless, it's a dangerous device to be sure; Setterfield would not have been able to pull it off with anything less kooky or intriguing that Miss Winter's cynical and colorful voice.

*I adored her general ode to reading - and writing. Passages like the following resonated with the bibliophile in me and gave me the generally cozy feeling of having found a kindred mind. :)

“The hours between eight in the evening and one or two in the morning have always been my magic hours. Against the blue candlewick bedspread the white pages of my open book, illuminated by a circle of lamplight, were the gateway to another world.”
—pg. 24

“I have closed my study door on the world and shut myself away with people of imagination. For nearly sixty years I have eavesdropped with impunity on the lives of people who do not exist. I have peeped shamelessly into hearts and bathroom closets. I have leaned over shoulders to follow the movements of quills as they write love letters, wills and confessions. I have watched as lovers love, murderers murder and children play their make-believe. Prisons and brothels have opened their doors to me; galleons and camel trains have transported me across sea and sand; centuries and continents have fallen away at my bidding. I have spied upon the misdeeds of the mighty and witnessed the nobility of the meek. I have bent so low over sleepers in their beds that they might have felt my breath on their faces. I have seen their dreams.”
—pg. 113

*POVs. Setterfield used a number of 1st-person voices to great effect, mostly because she was able to distinguish each of them with a unique sound and style. Also, because they were all telling the same story, I never became frustrated by one narrator interrupting the interesting story of another narrator.

*Similarly, the interrupted timeline worked marvelously. Had Setterfield told the story in a completely linear fashion (as Miss Winter insisted it should be told), she would have denuded the story of vital foreshadowing. Because I knew a dreadful fire was coming (among other things), I kept turning pages to discover how it all came about. Had I had not known about the impending fire, the story would have lost much of its urgency.

*Toward the beginning of the climax, Setterfield had Margaret rephrase the book's most pressing questions, effectively reminding the reader of all the answers yet to come. I doubt this would have worked effectively in most stories, but due to the general nature of the overlapping narratives, it not only worked, but it sharpened my already blooming curiosity.

The Bad:

*Slow opening. The first quarter of the book opens rather slowly and bogs down in too much narrative. Almost until the arrival of Hester, much of Miss Winter's story lacks action and dialogue.

*Margaret's grief. I'm not a twin, and I've never lost a sibling, but I have to say I felt Margaret's obsessive grief over the loss of a sister she never knew seemed to be over the top.

*Hester's diary. Although, generally speaking, another very effective POV, the early entries in Hester's diary were repetitious. Setterfield could have achieved the same effect and conveyed the necessary information without rehashing the nuances of events the reader was already aware of.

*Loose end. Dragging Hester back into the story (as possibly having been murdered and buried within the wreck of Angelfield House) was an unnecessary loose end. Setterfield tantalized the reader unnecessarily with the possibility that "the Bones" were Hester, only to snatch it away.

*Ending. Personally, I felt that the addition of the doctor, as a love interest for Margaret, was too pat a way to end the tale. Margaret's feelings of loneliness and loss throughout the story stemmed from her grief over her sister, not her lack of a romantic interest. Therefore, although I was glad to see that she was about to find happiness, I felt the ending didn't match the tone of the rest of the story.

Despite its faults, I look forward to Diane Setterfield's next offering. !thumbsup!

[righter1]

I haven't started reading it yet. :( I have the CD's and have been busy with other stuff. But, I think I can get through it Friday (at work) and Saturday (in the car.) :) Then, I can chime in with my thoughts.

[pprmint777]

I agree with everything Tarin said.

It took me awhile to come to terms with Miss White not being a twin. Looking back on the book now, I can see the clues Setterfield left. But immediately upon revelation that she was a third child in the household, I was disappointed. I felt like Setterfield had pulled a rabbit out of her hat to bring Miss White's story to a conclusion. I don't know. Setterfield was masterful in setting out of her clues, but I still have a bitter taste in my mouth about it. Could be just me.

Another thing that could also be just me was the sexual perversion portrayed. I remember an English professor proclaiming virtually everything we read as having sexual content. I didn't always see it in the older writings, so I argued with him. But in the newer literature, like Hotel New Hampshire (which was new at the time), it was blatant. I don't remember reading anything of romantic love in the modern lit courses I took. Incest, orgies, and homosexuality were portrayed. And if that's American literature (and I realize Setterfield isn't American), I don't want any part of it. To me, the only difference between that and common trash is the prose.

Francine Rivers' Redeeming Love had some pretty racy portrayals, but the acts weren't glorified, nor were they provided just for the sake of having them. Rivers point was to illustrate God's love.

I'm not saying American Literature has to have as its theme the love of God, or even that sexual content should be eliminated. I just wish the authors who make their way into college Modern Lit classrooms didn't feel obligated to portray deviant sex.

[Tarin]

I remember an English professor proclaiming virtually everything we read as having sexual content.

I was actually thinking about this the other day. It is almost impossible to find book that don't contain sex that's either graphic and/or deviant. It's such a shame that authors feel the need to clutter their art with unnecessary vulgarities simply for shock value or titillation. However, I did appreciate that Setterfield, unlike many of her cronies, was never graphic, and that she didn't promote her characters' deviancy.

[GentleJourneyAu]

She did mention a few things that put unnecessary pictures in my head, but for the most part she just glossed over the perverted brother stuff. I was already thinking there must have been other progeny from Charlie because he was sewing his seed elsewhere all the while his sister was with her husband. Also the child in the garden was mentioned several times in the book, so that I felt it was one of Charlie's although the way it was described, I thought it was a boy. I also thought it was too far a stretch for a feral child such as the twins were, to suddenly have been able to educate herself so well. Since Vida was not Adaline or Emmaline, and was raised by the woman in the woods, that made sense. Thus I had a sneaking suspicion that a third child was going to show up and she did.
What I did like about the book were the many observations that Margaret and Vida made almost in the form of theatrical asides. Things like: "One gets so used to one's own horrors, one forgets how they must seem to other people", or "I turned my face into the picture of relief he was looking for, and while he was warm with the pleasure of having been able to take a load off my mind, I plied him with questions.." , "Mrs. Maudsley nodded, which was her way of disagreeing with him, though he didn't know it." and many others which I have underlined, but are too long to include. As a writer, I especially liked the "life is compost" analogy on page 46. The story was well written in terms of plot and structure and voice etc, but I like to judge a book by what I have taken away from it. I think if I am going to invest that much time in reading it and studying it, I should be a better person for having read it. I am not so sure I am at this point. I was trying to think who of my friends I would want to pass this book on to, and decided to donate it to the Salvation Army. I did recommend it to a cozy/mystery writer online. The blurb on the front of the book by USA Today says "Eerie and fascinating". I did not feel anything eerie about it, not even the references to Margaret's ghost twin. I would replace eerie with sad. Margaret's longing for her Siamese twin reminded me of Elvis Presley, who supposedly often had conversations with his dead twin when he was younger. I think she would not have longed for her sister so much if her mother had been more able to love her. Often the interviews in the back of the book are boring, but I liked the things Mrs. Setterfield had to say in the "Conversation with.." section. Elaine

[pprmint777]

I was trying to think who of my friends I would want to pass this book on to, and decided to donate it to the Salvation Army.

I know what you mean, Elaine. I'm torn what to do with the book. There's so much prose in it that I loved, and descriptive passages I could learn from, that I hate to give it away. I'll probably flip through it from time to time to read the portions I highlighted, but I'd be hesitant to recommend it to a friend. I, too, had pictures in my head I wasn't happy about. But I guess that's what we do with words: paint pictures. I just hope the images I paint don't send anyone into flaming blushes!

[VLSmith]

I read the book a couple of months ago. I enjoyed the writing, but was put off immediately by the relationship between the brother and sister. It wasn't eerie - it was creepy. So much so, that if it had perpetuated, I would have stopped reading for good. I don't see why people need to clutter a story with trash, whether glorified or not. There were so many other avenues Setterfield could have taken.

Once she moved past that, it was still an interesting story, but I agree that it lacked depth. The twinness was lost on me as well, especially in the beginning. There was a great deal that was left unexplained or untapped. It did not end up on my list of favorites and not even one that I would highly recommend.

[Tamera]

I also hated the book. It was slow moving and boring at the beginning. Then it became a story of perversion. It was disturbing but not in a good way. If I had chosen this book for myself, I probably wouldn't have read past the second chapter.

I agree that Margaret is a little too upset by her discovery of a twin. But it doesn't surprise me when I find every character in the book to be unstable. There's not one that I can relate to.

I thought the relationship between Charlie and Emmeline to be sickining. I also saw the characters of Adalaide and Charlie to be bordering on demonic.

I was also disturbed by the lack of depth. Although we find out Vida's true identity, there is no satisfaction, no deeper meaning that we, as readers, can take away from it.

The only redeeming virtue in the novel is that it is well written. The descriptions are very will done and make me feel as if I'm seeing what the reader intended, definatly not enough to make the book worth reading.

If this is typical contemparary fiction, I settle for my historicals and classics.

[Cymrugirl]

I picked up this book for the first time last fall, so I've had some time to mull over some of the aspects that are still fresh for many of you. You guys have described my reactions exactly.

Since I wasn't reading it with anyone, I can't say that this was my reason for reading through parts that made me uncomfortable. And while the prose is really very stunning, I don't think this is what kept me reading either.

On this side of having had several months to think about why I like - no, loved - The Thirteenth Tale, it's, for starters, a story of hope. At the end, I didn't agree with Vida Winter - that she was a mere subplot - even though I could see how she felt that way. But, here was a little girl without a claim to anyone. No mother to speak of - a father who, thankfully, didn't even know she existed while living in the same house with him - not even a name. And yet, she did more than just survive - she took her talent and touched the world. I can't really think of another literary character who had more legitimate excuses to turn out to be a solid mess, but never mentioned them to a living soul until just before she died.

I thought the author's final notes about fairy tales were quite poignant. Most people's stories aren't filled with the stuff of Cinderella, but the stuff of Jacob and his sons. Deception, arrogance, self-seeking, etc. But our endings are up to ourselves. The choice about what we will become is up to us. Vida Winter (who even had to choose her own name) transformed from a subplot in a cast of poisonous characters, to a voice that rocked the literary world.

While Margaret's obsession with her twin escaped me - the book's overall theme of finding someone like us - of never being alone - even if that person turns out to be no more like us than a physical reflection, struck me quite powerfully.

In the end, it was this reason especially that I kept reading this book. Margaret was my twin. If not Margaret, then Diane Sutterfield. The film, Shadowlands, about C.S. Lewis, made the statement, "We read to know we're not alone." In reading The Thirteenth Tale, I felt like I was looking in a mirror. Margaret's passion for biographies, for the written word, for people the rest of the world has forgotten - well she said things that I thought nobody else felt but me.

She was, as she put it herself, my pale shadow.

On the "subplot" itself.

Tarin, I agree with the too tidy ending of Margaret ending up with the doctor - but at the time, I was so thankful that she and Aurelius weren't thrown together, that I didn't mind. I loved Aurelius, and I didn't want him to change. I was so, so happy that he had grown up separate from all that Vida had to endure.

I was disappointed in Hester - whom I liked immensely in the beginning - and have to say that I enjoyed watching Vida's tricks on her by the time we read them because she had gone from my graces. Too bad. She could have saved those girls earlier. I was pretty proud of the Doctor's wife. ;)

The story of the cook and gardner was absolutely heartbreaking - and when I learned that their staying was in large part to take care of Vida, I loved the both of them even more. His death and Vida's reaction (though I didn't understand who she was at the time) was very moving to me.

What was everybody else thinking during the conveyor belt scene? I wouldn't have hurt that person for the world, but I was on the tip of my chair reading that, wondering what Margaret's reaction to the question would be. It was one of my favorite scenes in the book. All of the usage of Jane Eyre, the multiple copies, the constant references, were delicious to me as Jane Eyre is the book whose protagonist I most relate with. Imagine! another twin!! Apparently, this is the way many people felt back when that book was first published, hence, its success.

And last of all, which twin do you think lived? and which do you think died? It has been over six months since I read it, and I still can't decide. Good employment of a mystery there, I think.

Ah yes, and Mary (merry?) with the laugh. I loved her and her description. I loved how all the characters, both small and large, were fleshed out so much I could see them.


Oh, and I wonder if Margaret's first deduction about Ms. Winter ever changed. When she first saw her picture and said to herself "this woman has no soul," it was one of the things that struck me to read on and find out if this were true. For a while, I thought it might be - but in the end, I think I caught a glimmer of that soul.

In the end, I suppose Vida Winter's photo could be, I hope, my own. What am I that God is mindful of me? Born into sin, homeless, an orphan, dressed in wretched clothes with nothing to offer - not even a name - I pray that He can take that child and make her a writer someday. :)

[Tarin]

On this side of having had several months to think about why I like The Thirteenth Tale, it's that it is a story of hope. At the end, I didn't agree with Vida Winter - that she was a mere subplot - even though I could see how she felt that way. She was a little girl without a claim to anyone. No mother to speak of - a father who, thankfully, didn't even know she existed while living in the same house with him - not even a name. And yet, she did more than just survive - she took her talent and touched the world. I can't really think of another literary character who had more legitimate excuses to turn out to be a solid mess, but never mentioned them to a living soul until just before she died.

I thought the author's final notes about fairy tales were quite poignant. Most people's stories aren't filled with the stuff of Cinderella, but the stuff of Jacob and his sons. Deception, arrogance, self-seeking, etc. But our endings are up to ourselves. The choice about what we will become is up to us. Vida Winter (who even had to choose her own name) transformed from a subplot in a cast of poisonous characters, to a voice that rocked the literary world.

Interesting take. Now that you mention it, I can definitely see that. However, I still think the book would have been stronger had Setterfield managed to make that idea just a bit more overt at the ending.

What was everybody else thinking during the conveyor belt scene?

Aye, that one was tense. :confused: I really appreciated the foreshadowing that this scene (of the conveyer belt sending all the books to the fire) provided for the Angelfield fire which really did condemn all of Miss Winter's beloved books to a smoky grave. Miss Winter asked Margaret to whether she would kill someone to save the books, and later we get to find out that Miss Winter did not kill that person (Adeline) when she had the chance.

And last of all, which twin do you think lived?

Ultimately, I don't think it matters. Either way, the surviving twin was unalterably changed by the ravages of the fire. In a way, no matter which twin survived, the person who lived with Miss Winter was a new entity altogether. However, my gut tends to think it was Emmeline.;)

[Cymrugirl]

I hadn't made the fire connection as a foreshadowing, Tarin!! *flips*

I don't think not knowing which twin mattered except that it tells us that much more about the possible depth of Vida's own character. To save and keep secret her own enemy - the very one who may have killed her beloved - and house her and love her as her own....well, I think someone once said there is no greater love than that. Somehow - and forgive me, I tend to see God's grace in everything - I think the story is more powerful if the twin which lived was Adeline (Vida would have known who it was) but was loved, by Vida, as Emmeline.

It is a picture to me of God's love for me - that when he looks at me, He sees - not the murderer of his own beloved son - but the Son himself. In that way, Emmeline and Adeline - two flesh - became one in the eyes of Vida Winter. Likewise, we have put on Christ, forsaking ourselves.


EDIT: And on the ending being more overt - I had a vague sense (as I did with The Historian) that it was requested by an editor and rushed - or just plain rushed. Thoughts?

[Tarin]

I think the story is more powerful if the twin which lived was Adeline (Vida would have known who it was) but was loved, by Vida, as Emmeline.

I tend to think Miss Winter didn't know for certain which twin it was, although I have no doubt that she would have suspected. My inclination that the twin was Emmeline was just my own leaning, probably because I'd been led to believe it was Emmeline throughout the story. However, the idea that, either way, Miss Winter loved the surviving twin as Emmeline is well said. In that case, no matter which twin lived, it was Emmeline, in a sense.

EDIT: And on the ending being more overt - I had a vague sense (as I did with The Historian) that it was requested by an editor and rushed - or just plain rushed. Thoughts?

Yuppers. I can definitely see signs of that. The ending, although still solid, didn't quite have the spit and polish of the first three quarters.

[pprmint777]

Wow, shows what a few months of reflection can do for you! I can see everything you're talking about, Cymrugirl -- especially now that you've pointed it out to me.

I never felt an affinity with any of the characters in the book -- my lifestyle is too mundane, my sins too common to match what I read in the story. The only thing that came even close to hitting home with me was the loss of Margaret's twin.

Mom had given birth to two other children before my brother and then me. Both died before we were born. She told me several times that I was the spitting image of Debra when she was born -- even going so far as to call me Debra one time. Occasionally, I'd wonder what she would've been like; what life would've been like with an older sister.

But, that's as far as the comparison goes. I never had to compete with a ghost for my mother's affections. Maybe that was Margaret's problem. She never had a female in her life to connect with, to share with. She lived in her head and in her books. She must've mourned not having a female bond, twin or otherwise.

[pprmint777]

PS: I agree with you both about the ending. It did seem rushed, with very little of the dimension of the rest of the book.

Good discussion, you two!

[Cymrugirl]

Margaret's relationship with her mother was indeed very sad to me. Though I felt sorry for Margaret, I felt her mother's own story was more pathetic. Here was a woman who exchanged her living child for the dead, and lost them both! I wanted to talk at this woman so badly before the book was over. Insanity.

I thought her father was adorable.

[Tarin]

As I was reading along, I knew that somehow Jane Eyre had to be *the* clue for unlocking the Angelfield secret. But I never caught the full significance until the end of the story. The turning point in Jane Eyre is Rochester's insane wife, hidden away inside his gothic mansion; the turning point in The Thirteenth Tale is the nameless child of an insane father, hidden away in the wrecked mansion.

Love it. :)

@Cyrmu: BTW, great new avatar! !thumbsup!

[Cymrugirl]

I kept thinking hard on that connection too, Tarin - but I missed the all important "subplot" clue that Vida Winter gave. I didn't make the french schoolgirl connection until the book hit me in the face with it. Then, I found myself thinking "yeah - that little girl had as much of a story in that book as anyone! What's her story??"

:)

Like Diane Sutterfield says, everybody's got a story.

[TanyaSue]

Wow. I've been MIA because of family stuff and a writing deadline. I was so looking forward to this discussion (this is my first book club ever!), but after reading your comments, I'm not sure I'm up to the task. You're all excellent intellectuals. I am not. When I read a book, I ask only two questions: Did I like it? Why and why not? So, how do I enter this conversation? With a preemtive apology. Forgive my lack of literary background and offer grace when I lack depth. I'm a reader. A common reader. This is why I write nonfiction, because I can't compete with the intricate minds of novelists. :) That said ...

I was shocked by all of your comments until I got to Cymrugirl. Maybe because I'm not looking at the details, I hit the 6-months-of-reflection mark much sooner. Maybe because my family history includes some of these "uncommon sins", I wasn't as appalled by the incest and depravity. I was certainly affected by it, but perhaps differently than the rest of you. Because I know these things do happen to real people by real people, I wasn't as shocked to see them detailed here. I thought the twinness was perfectly described, and I felt her (Margaret's) pain, her agony of loss. I also connected with Vida's sense of obscurity and abandonment. It all made perfect sense to me; I understood it and felt it deeply as I read the book. I agree it doesn't matter who was saved from the fire, but I lean toward it being Adeline, for the same reasons Cymrugirl gave. The picture of unconditional love and grace is undeniable in this story. Loyalty facing lack of merit. It's beautiful.

So that's my response to your comments. My thoughts? I loved the book. It was beautifully written. I've never fallen so head-long into such a boring plot (a reclusive historian invited to write a biography for an eccentric author). I was caught from the first page and couldn't put it down. Yes, I agree the ending was abrupt, but I see this as the book's only fault. This novel touches on common human plights: feeling invisible while surrounded by family; missing someone you've never known, but whom you believe to be your other half; being hurt or betrayed by those you expect to protect you; being enamoured by things that cause you harm; not knowing if someone is telling the truth; seeking the truth; facing mortality and regrets; wanting to know your story and being able to embrace it. These are things everyone seeks in the quiet places of their hearts. I think this book can touch the timeless essence of generations.

Oh, and the conveyor belt! Definintely a pinacle point of the story. I loved it! One thing: Tarin said the one Vida did not kill was Adeline. I didn't see it that way. I felt the one she did not sacrifice was the baby, Aurelius. She knew Adeline would throw the baby into the fire if she discovered him there, which she would if Vida attempted to save her precious books. This is why she stayed hidden, to protect the child. I see the metaphor as Adeline being the gun, Aurelius the person who started the conveyor belt (simply by being born and stealing Emmeline's affections), and Vida as the one with the choice of saving beloved literature or life.

And now a confession: I've never read Jane Eyre. I know, I know ... but take consolation -- I bought a copy even before finishing this novel and plan to read it directly. :)

[Cymrugirl]

:) Beautiful comments, TanyaSue. I absolutely grow ecstatic to learn someone else is picking up Jane Eyre. I didn't read it til last year myself - and I think the timing was perfect. Let us know if you enjoy it. :D

[Tarin]

@Tanya: Sounds pretty intellectual to me. ;)

Personally, I wasn't disturbed by the "sins" in the book either. Setterfield was neither graphic nor gratuitous, and she made it clear that her characters' reaped some pretty bitter fruit from their actions. She did a good job of "showing" the horrible results of sin, without preaching at her readers.

[TanyaSue]

Setterfield ... made it clear that her characters reaped some pretty bitter fruit from their actions. She did a good job of "showing" the horrible results of sin, without preaching at her readers.

Very true.

[GentleJourneyAu]

You made some great comments, TanyaSue. You have plenty to say. Elaine

[ProfessorAlan]

First, I love the post-modern nature of the book. Setterfield is a woman writing a book about a woman writing a book about a woman who wrote books ..... and all of the insider stuff about reading & writing & bookselling was interesting to read.

The twin motif has been done many times (since Cain and Abel, I suppose), but it was deftly handled in this case. I did not get a "message" from the twin motif, and don't know if Setterfield was trying to communicate a "message."

Overall, an interesting tale of choice and consequences.