Of all the goals I've made for 2007, reading a book a month for the TBR Challenge seems to by the one I've been most successful at pursuing so far. I finished On Writing, by William Zinsser, the first week in February. Then I devoured The Guy Not Taken, a collection of short stories by Jennifer Weiner, over the next several days. I don't have much time to read, so finishing each book before midnight on the last night of the month has been a pleasant surprise. Luckily, each book I've chosen has held my interest and been worth the hours I've put into them.
My March read was The Memory Keeper's Daughter, a story about a doctor whose wife unexpectedly gives birth to twins--a healthy boy and a girl with Down's sydrome--and the fateful choice the doctor makes to send the infant girl to an institution and tell his wife she died. The story started out a bit slow for me, but as soon as the secret of Dr. David Henry's daughter was introduced, I knew I'd love this book. I loved each of the characters, so deeply affected by a single event, by one decision made by a man trying to protect the woman he loved from a deep pain.
Before I started this book, I'd heard from several readers that it wasn't very good. I was afraid I'd be trudging through a bad story. But like everything else in this world, different people have different opinions about books, and I'm so glad I didn't let the bad reviews keep me from picking this story up and delving in. I liked everything about it (except the excessive details in the first few chapters). I loved the alternating points of view. I liked the characters, even when they weren't acting very likeable. I enjoyed the mistakes and imperfections of each of them, and I particularly enjoyed the pursuit of redemption, each character attempting to reconcile their choices and perspectives based on what they know and don't know is the truth.
I read a comment from another reader who said she had a hard time believing that someone would react the way Dr. Henry reacted in the story. But I know personally that in the time that Memory was set, raising a child with Down's syndrome wasn't easy, and doctors regularly encouraged families to put the child in an institution and forget about him or her. Keeping such a child at home just wasn't something you did in those days. Thankfully, there were parents who challenged this status quo and fought for the progress that so many benefit from today. Kim Edwards' story reminds me that there was a time when people with mental disabilities had little hope of living a productive and fulfilling life within our society and makes me thankful for those people (like my grandmothers) who refused to follow the pack and pushed for the rights their children deserved. It also reminded me of how far we have yet to go, of mothers who continue to fight for their childrens' rights to an education, to opportunities, to experiences, that so many of us take for granted.
If you haven't already read this book, I'd recommend it. You may or may not like it, but I think it's worth a try. And if you have read it, I'd love to know what you thought, good or bad.
