Because of the title alone, this is one of those books that when you put it down you can't pick it up again.
It's not as twee or icky as it sounds. It's actually fairly well written and contains some quite tough subject matter.
But that cover just makes me cringe and not want to pick it up.
The story follows a Trinidadian "family", Betty and her son Solo, and the lodger Mr Chetan.
Betty is a single mother because she pushed her alcoholic wife beating husband down the stairs when Solo was very young. This is told in the first chapter so I don't count that as a spoiler.
Mr Chetan is a local teacher who moves in and becomes a part of the family although, for reasons of his own, he can never have a proper relationship with Betty. When the family secrets are revealed, the unit breaks apart and we follow the three on their separate tangents through life. Will the rifts between them ever be healed?
Each chapter is written in the first person from the POV of one of the three characters. It's good that each chapter is headed by the name of the character because all three voices are very similar and could easily be confused. The lilting rhythm of the trini dialect it's written in is very easy to read, but should vary for the different voices.
The book paints a good portrait of Trinidadian life. Persaud must be a fan of Trini cooking because there are pages that feel like a recipe book. Sadly, those are some of the most interesting sections.
It might be an easy read, the prose might be almost poetic, but there's something not quite there for me. I never really connected with the characters. They don't lead particularly fascinating lives. The ending is very emotional, but I wasn't that bothered because of my lack of connection to the characters.
I've read several books about ordinary people doing ordinary things and loved them. But here, it doesn't work. Despite that quote on the front saying that this is Unforgettable, I think I'll have trouble remembering anything about this in a few weeks.
Maybe if it had a title that didn't make me cringe every time I picked the book up, I might have enjoyed the contents more, because, other than the similarity of the narrative voices, there isn't that much wrong with the book. I can't deny that the prose is good. When she writes about cooking, you can almost smell the spices. She deals with some tough subject matter without flinching. Objectively, this is an admirable book. I feel like I should have liked this more than I do. But I don't.
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