23.05.26
My verdict on Grisham's novels is either great or guilty of being poor - the best thing about this one is the marketing strapline on the cover. The interesting idea was badly paced and even more badly written, with cardboard characters and details that have horribly (and fascinatingly) dated over the thirty years since it was written.
An admittedly illuminating glimpse into the lives of crazy rich WASPs, who are hard to warm to or care about even when they're trying to divest themselves of their millions. The three main women seem to be defined entirely by their relationships to men (and don't often pass the Bechdel test). And, apparently, rich people don't 'say' much - they tease, they admit, they muse, they spit. It does make me want to visit Brooklyn Heights, though, and not just because it really does have a district called Dumbo.
47%
This was trying to be Crazy Rich Asians, and to some extent Counterfeit, but was held back by the cliched and predictable plot, the weirdly overwrought writing style and the poor editing. There seemed to be too much focus on florid descriptions of flower arrangements and none at all on character development or elements that would help with sense and flow.
