16-year-old Laurel is sitting in her treehouse, pouting, while the rest of her family enjoys the baby’s birthday party. She’s just about decided to join the family party when she sees her mother greet a visitor (a man Laurel has never seen before) by plunging a knife into his chest.
In the very next chapter, Laurel is a grown woman and her mother Dorothy is celebrating her 90th birthday, her last birthday. Laurel goes through a family photo album, telling her hospitalized and unresponsive mother the familiar story of her own life, starting just before she’d met their father. As Laurel nears the end of the album, an old photo falls out, one Laurel has never seen before. It’s their mother and another woman, victory rolls in their hair. Laurel asks her sister about the picture and her sister explains how she’d found the photo in a book belonging to their mother: a copy of Peter Pan, the play. The book was inscribed “For Dorothy. A true friend is a light in the dark. Vivien.”
It’s funny, Laurel thought, she’d never considered her mother’s life before the album began – her life before she’d met and married their father. But this photo, and the inscription in the book, touched something deep inside of Laurel. She began looking into the story of her mother’s past.
From there, The Secret Keeper follows the lives of three women: Laurel, her mother Dorothy, and Dorothy’s friend Vivian. The narrative jumps back and forth from woman to woman and from 1940’s England to modern day (2011) England. And it’s absolutely fascinating.
This was the September pick for my in-real-life bookclub, and I knew from the other readers that there would be a twist at the end. Despite this, I spent the majority of the book with no clue as to even what I might be trying to solve. Was I trying to solve the mystery of the man’s death? Of Vivien and Dorothy’s relationship? Of… well, I didn’t know. It was disconcerting, reading a book that kept me guessing all the way to the end – guessing not only about the solution to the mystery but about what the mystery was exactly.
It drew me in like few books have lately. It wasn’t simply an escape – it kept me thinking too much. Yet it wasn’t dense and literary (in such a way that I felt exhausted afterward from the hard work of interpretation.) It was an engaging story, a thought-provoking read, a mental and emotional workout that I only recognized by the runner’s high, not by any perspiration in the process. (For the record, I have never experienced a runner’s high from running, nor have I ever run without noticing myself perspiring. Actually, I’ve pretty much never run. So maybe my metaphor should have been something more like an enjoyable night of dancing that I only recognized as a workout from the pleasantly sore muscles in the morning – but it’s not what I came up with first, and I don’t have the energy just now to figure out how to transform that one to fit the sentence. Yep, I’m that lazy.)
It took me a few chapters to get into this novel, but once I was in, I was in all the way. I enjoyed every twist and turn. And the twist at the end? It’s more like two dozen twists, absolutely paradigm-shifting twists. Twists that make me want to sit right back down and read the book over again to see how the author crafted the story so exquisitely that everything fits in this completely altered worldview.
Yeah. It was GOOD.
You should read it.
Rating: 5 stars
Category: General Fiction
Synopsis: A woman seeks to learn about her mother’s life before marriage and family – and finds out more than she could have ever imagined.
Recommendation: An excellent book. Highly recommended.
I’ve read one book by Kate Morton where the writing was fantastic, but she included some deal-breaking (for me) bad language, so I have been avoiding picking up another. But this has me curious about what that mystery is….
Hmm. That’s disappointing. I often tend to not notice language as I’m reading if it only occurs occasionally – but do notice it if it’s frequent. This one fell within the “didn’t notice” range (although I know, for instance, that I hadn’t noticed how often Georgette Heyer uses “damn” in her writing until you read one of her books and commented on it. So, caveat emptor.)
My one Kate Morton read was VERY suspenseful and engrossing. However, a surprise turn at the end turned e off to risking another one by her. You’ve piqued my curiosity, though.?
She does sprinkle about 2-3 bad words around per book which is regrettable. And there’s usually a “scene” that is not a scene but that you know is a scene as well. :D But her writing is absolutely SPELL-BINDING so that I almost forget those few things are there because I’m thinking about so many other aspects of the story. Just love her books!