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Raw, funny, earthy, impractically practical, South to North and back again, this comic-tragic tale is woven with an eye to looking back, if y'all (ahem) will pardon the visual pun. Anyone with a family whose portrait should be the illustration – and in the more southern states, there are many of us – for the word “dysfunctional” in various reference books will get a laugh as well as a frustrated groan or two at various personal memories along the way. The antics Ms. Crouch's cast goes through are, in general, useless. Yet they are entertaining and interesting, to say the least. Ah, the search for love and self-confidence, despite some rather warped and formative childhoods.
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If you have any idea what entails in the intricate dance (another pun, Cotillion-aimed) step of society in the southern states versus the northern ones, you'll appreciate this story even more. Coming from a “neutral” state, a fence-sitter, not quite Northern yet not fully Southern, I can honestly say that the War Between the States is still raging in its own way, and racial slavery is now not the issue: love and existential angst in a weird social ladder is alive and well, and well-armed for battle.
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Pull out the hand-tatted white lace doilies, a cold-dewed glass pitcher of cold sweet tea, the lemonade and cookies, and find a shady spot with a squeaky old rocking chair. You'll need 'em for this one.
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Thanks to Hachette Book Group for the chance to review Katie Crouch's debut novel. For information on other books offered or about to be offered by HBGUSA, please visit their website.
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Comments? Questions? Speak your piece and welcome!
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-- The Fireside Reader
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