Juno's Daughters - A Book Review

Calliope asked for volunteers to review a work of fiction, and since I am always interested in reading new books, I signed up. For the last year or so, I've been reading light fiction, because it requires little thought. I'm generally an escapist reader. When I read the first chapter of Juno's Daughters online, I thought it would be a good read. I've been to Whidbey Island, so I have a bordering acquaintance with the area. I have a daughter. I like Shakespeare and Led Zepplin.

I received a (free*) copy of the book and began reading it right away. By about the third chapter, I suspected that I would not be able to identify with any of the characters. By the fourteenth chapter, I had decided that I didn't really like the book. But I had agreed to write a review of it, so some further reflection was required.

The story involves a single mother of two daughters who lives on San Juan Island. During the summer, the island puts on summer Shakespeare theater, importing actors from the mainland. Jenny, the mother, and her older daughter, Lilly develop an interest in the same actor. Meanwhile, Frankie, the younger daughter, is experiencing a series of desertions in her life.

Some of the main issues that bothered me were parenting decisions. Essentially, promiscuity and drug use were laughed off. This is where I had to ask myself if I were being a prude. I know I'm fairly repressed/prim/uptight regarding myself, but my best friend is a try-everything-once/let-it-all-hang-out/free-thinker. I swear like a sailor (sometimes), and I enjoy a rude joke and double entendre (with the proper audience). Jenny seems to shrug her shoulders at Lilly's sampling of all the teenage boys in the area and what seems to be a fairly chronic use of marijuana. That is not how I would react. And competing with my daughter for a man? That just seems icky. (And as a cynic, I suspect the man will almost always take the 18 year old over the 42 year old.)

*SPOILER ALERT*

But then there was a segment of the plot that involved a "naked rehearsal." Frankie, a thirteen year old girl, is expected by everyone on the island to participate in the naked rehearsal, where all of the actors are required to do their parts without clothing. The only one (aside from her mother's half-hearted "You don't have to do it if you don't want to") who seems to understand that it might be a bit much for a young girl (um, the ONLY young girl) to undress in the presence of a bunch of adults, including unfamiliar men, is a young, African-American, gay man.

Upon reflection, I think my main problem with the story is the incongruity. Frankie is supposed to have grown up on an isolated island, without TV. So the advanced sexualization of young girls would be muted there. And no one knows for sure what the "naked rehearsal" is until they participate, so it doesn't seem like the people on the island habitually wander around naked. It doesn't make much sense for a mother to make so little of this. Jenny, the mother, is a survivor of an abusive marriage. On the one hand, she is strong enough to determine the length and terms of her subsequent relationships with men on the island. On the other hand, she's completely passive when it comes to her daughters' behavior. She sees herself as a teenager in Lilly, but does nothing to try and advise Lilly on how to choose a direction in life...in fact, she actively resists any attempts to help Lilly become an independent adult. Jenny finds piles of love letters in Lilly's room, and rather than worrying about Lilly's emotional health, Jenny worries that no one will ever write her a love letter again. It just doesn't ring true, for me.

Finally, there were some plot devices that were vaguely annoying. The actors visiting the island were referred to by the names of the characters they were to play in The Tempest. That seems...demeaning. The homeless teenager scene in Seattle provides a stereotypical minor side villain. I don't know if it was plausible or not...I suspect a naive 13 year old would likely have met a more violent fate (however, this may be due to the fact that I work in the crime lab, and I expect people to be evil instead of merely mean). Also, the Led Zepplin reference? It was minor and seemed like an afterthought. The cover review proclaims it "part Led Zepplin anthem." I would disagree.

All in all, a mixed review - I didn't really like the book, but it did make me think about my values. It wasn't a good escape from everyday life, but it certainly provoked a reaction. Read it yourself. See what you think.

*Is that what I have to do for those FCC folks?

Patterns

I'm a pattern person. I notice the repetition in things. That's probably why I am doing the job I do - because I can recognize patterns where most people will not. My life seems to go in patterns too - I note patterns in the types of evidence I receive. I note patterns in the things my daughter does. This week's pattern (which I hope does not continue) was randomly occurring discussions of miscarriage in the least expected places.

Today, for instance, we were having a garage sale, and trying to sell all the clothing my daughter has outgrown. Some women came up, and noted that all the clothes were girls' clothes. They said "all we have are boys." And as they walked away, one continued "that's probably why she lost her first one - it was probably a girl and girls are not allowed."

Yesterday, while at work, somehow the topic also came up. This one was a little more difficult for me. One coworker was discussing someone she knew who lost a baby at 14 weeks. The woman's mother told her to scoop the miscarried baby out of the toilet and take it in to the hospital. The woman could tell that her child was a boy. Another coworker was wondering why that would be necessary, so I told her that the doctors would be able to tell if the mother had an infection of some sort or if there were a chromosomal defect in the baby if they could test the "products of conception." The second coworker also said that she thought that miscarriages were just bleeding - she didn't realize that you'd be able to see the baby. So I told her that there used to be a display of the the gestational stages of a fetuses at the Museum of Science and Industry in Chicago (it was really an amazing exhibit, but a. lost on the kids on field trips and b. no longer displayed due to decomposition and, I think, social pressure), and that after maybe 6-7-8 weeks, there would be something big enough and developed enough to be recognizable as a baby. I didn't share my miscarriage experiences - or I would have burst into tears. The first coworker also brought up a former coworker who had an almost full term stillborn baby. It was kind of a rough half hour there. On our way out later, the first coworker apologized for bringing the subject up - she had forgotten about my miscarriage (um doubtful - she's kind of passive-aggressive that way). I said that I would prefer to have miscarriage discussed - it's far more common than people believe and it's better to talk about it so people who need it can find more support and understanding.

I'm hoping that's all the discussions of miscarriage I'll accidentally fall into for a while. I hope this is the end of this particular pattern.