Hothouse Flower by Margot Berwin (2009)
Jan. 12th, 2014 07:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rhondacrockettIt begins with a list of the Nine Plants of Desire. I don't know if that's a real thing or not and the book promptly undermines it by claiming there's a tenth plant which, conveniently, has no name. But the way they're written about is beautiful, enticing.
Each chapter begins with a short paragraph about either a plant or an animal, which acts in place of the usual Chapter 1, 2 etc., and mixes gardening manual advice with more touchy-feely/New-Age-y stuff. The book is much the same. There is a lot about plant magic, spirit animals and "finding yourself", which is intriguing and well-written in the slightly dreamy way that seems to be the staple of the literary novel. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed it, but more for the atmosphere and the writer's obvious enthusiasm for tropical plants (I always like learning about other people's interests).
My big problem was the dialogue. Take this for an example: a guy starts ranting that nature is useless and dying out and how machines are "the new nature" and we need to "align" ourselves with them. Seriously, who talks like that? In the middle of a party? Everybody is so busy being deep and meaningful that the conversations turn into lectures, and not-very-interesting ones at that. Oh, and our heroine's rampant sex drive is annoying.
So yeah, it was a nice way to pass the time, but I won't seek out anything else by this author and won't re-read this one, which is my usual reaction to literary novels (if they don't bore me outright).
Each chapter begins with a short paragraph about either a plant or an animal, which acts in place of the usual Chapter 1, 2 etc., and mixes gardening manual advice with more touchy-feely/New-Age-y stuff. The book is much the same. There is a lot about plant magic, spirit animals and "finding yourself", which is intriguing and well-written in the slightly dreamy way that seems to be the staple of the literary novel. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed it, but more for the atmosphere and the writer's obvious enthusiasm for tropical plants (I always like learning about other people's interests).
My big problem was the dialogue. Take this for an example: a guy starts ranting that nature is useless and dying out and how machines are "the new nature" and we need to "align" ourselves with them. Seriously, who talks like that? In the middle of a party? Everybody is so busy being deep and meaningful that the conversations turn into lectures, and not-very-interesting ones at that. Oh, and our heroine's rampant sex drive is annoying.
So yeah, it was a nice way to pass the time, but I won't seek out anything else by this author and won't re-read this one, which is my usual reaction to literary novels (if they don't bore me outright).
