Reviews for The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake

The average rating for The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake based on 2 reviews is 2 stars.

Review # 1 was written on 2011-03-04 00:00:00 Audrey Bayze ****THIS REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS**** Every so often a book comes along that creates a divisive turmoil in me. Sometimes these books make me angry; sometimes they make me shake my head in wonder as to why exactly I read it; sometimes it takes months for me to really understand just how impactful the book was to me, which helps clear some of the fog or guilt or happiness or sadness or whatever I felt while reading it. THE PARTICULAR SADNESS OF LEMON CAKE is such a book. Let me first say that this is my first Aimee Bender experience, and though I will rant and rave about certain issues I had with the book, I will more than likely seek out other works by her. Ultimately, this novel is about family, and the peccadilloes and quirky aspects of being a part of a family. Normally, I love books like these. In some way they make me feel as if my family was "normal." Rose Edelstein receives on her ninth birthday a gift that is more akin to a curse: she is given the ability to taste what people feel through whatever food they have created. Loneliness. Despair. Happiness. Sadness. Guilt. Hate. Anger. Embarrassment. Preoccupation. Whatever the person was feeling comes alive on her taste buds. At first, Rose finds this newly found talent as a burdensome weight, who wouldn't at nine years old? She tries to tell her brother, Joseph, a neurotic science obsessed teenager, but gets nowhere in the process. (We'll discuss Joseph in a few minutes.) What she does find in telling Joseph is a refuge in Joseph's best friend George, an equally neurotic science obsessed teenager, but one that is routed firmly in reality. Together, Rose and George, begin to test her abilities by tasting different cookies made at a bakery. This part of the book was fun. I was eager to know just how Rose's tasting abilities were taking shape and what she would do with her powers. Ms. Bender had different ideas for me. About this time in the narrative, different details about Rose's mother and father begin to take shape. Her father has an overpowering fear of hospitals. Her mother begins an affair with a guy named Larry. These aspects are touched upon routinely within the narrative, but they are never fully given the pages needed (in my opinion) to fully blossom. Simple one-line explanations are tacked on as if in an afterthought, which detracts from what the real storyline seems to be: Why exactly does Rose feel that her family is crumbling like one of the dry chocolate-chip cookies she ate at the bakery? (Again, we'll come back to this in a moment.) Life continues for Rose and her family. Her power continues to grow. During this time I found the writing to be beautiful, full of descriptive language that could not only be seen, but could be touched and smelled and, yes, even tasted. Through these vivid descriptions, I was able to really empathize with Rose and the others…then the wheels came off. Chaos ensued. Confusion reigned. Absurdity elevated its position of court jester to king. I read other reviews that stated this novel was a version of magical realism. I cannot disagree enough about this assertion. Magical realism is something more than the absurd mixing with reality. It is a powerful style that helps illuminate or criticize certain aspects of society. Gabriel Garcia Marquez writes magical realism. Salman Rushdie writes magical realism. Isabel Allende writes magical realism. Jorge Borges wrote magical realism. Even Toni Morrison writes in magical realism. Having a character turn into a chair, one that can taste people's feelings, and another that can smell what a person is like IS NOT MAGICAL REALISM. This is merely a great example of surrealism. Or, better yet, science fiction. Yes, I said science fiction. If science fiction doesn't float your boat, then choose the word fantasy. But I am getting off track here. My real problem is this: A chair? That is all that Aimee Bender could come up with? Joseph is so depressed, so isolated because of his faux-romantic relationship with science that he manipulates his body into a piece of furniture? This device, to me, seemed too contrived because of Rose's mother's new hobby of woodworking. And the fact that we, the readers, are never given any insight as to why Joseph felt the overpowering need to turn into a piece of furniture gives his "power" a silly cartoonish quality. But the vagueness of Aimee Bender doesn't stop there. Why does the affair take place? There is nothing to suggest as to why this happens. Rose's father seems to be a typical, hard-working father. He doesn't drink. He doesn't beat his family. He might be labeled as emotionally distant, but that would only be conjecture on the part of the reader. If anything, he seems to be defeated by his wife. She is the one that seems to have all the issues. She has problems with committing to a career. She seems to be constantly living in a world of daydreams and nostalgia. Still, these assumptions on my part, do not qualify the affair. I think an action of this kind needs to be explained, dissected, poured over within pages, not single sentence add-ons that satisfy the objective of not having any loose ends. What it comes down to for me is: This book seemed unfinished. Thought about, but never fully realized. Rushed. Perhaps I am wrong about all this. Perhaps I missed the point. I'm willing to concede that. But I am not willing to concede the fact that there was a very interesting story within these pages that was given a very abrupt, almost casual execution. But as I said, time will tell for this novel. Perhaps I'll amend my thoughts once time has given me the chance to ruminate, order, or even change them. RECOMMENDED (with reservations)

Review # 2 was written on 2010-12-18 00:00:00 Yashvir Singh Okay - I realize I'm not deep, and I can very seldom get the hidden meaning in what I read, but this is ridiculous. I can't find a single reason why anyone would read this book. SPOILER * SPOILER * SPOILER * SPOILER Rose is a young girl who learns that she can taste the emotions of people in the food they cook. After some time, she can taste the "layers" in the food all the way back to where it was produced, for example, she can trace - by their taste - eggs to the actual county where they were gathered, the field where lettuce was grown, and whether the pork chops for dinner came from contented pigs. In this way, Rose finds out her mother is sad and empty, to the point she can't eat the food her mother prepares. Her father is withdrawn and distant, and her brother is a genius and just plain weird. And that's it. Neither Rose nor any member of this family ever finds any kind of resolution. Her mother has an affair - which Rose finds out about by eating dinner - her father is just sort of there, and her brother has a habit of disappearing. This, Rose learns, is because he becomes furniture. Yes, you read that right. He becomes furniture because he can't deal with the real world. Sometimes the bed, sometimes the dresser, but mostly one particular folding chair of a card table set. Rose marks this chair, and in the final scene asks her brother to from then on only go into that chair so she'll know where he is. He promises. The END. This book was highly recommended by the library and the book page in the Columbus Dispatch. Not me.