Lucky in the Corner ANNOTATION
2002 Lambda Literary Award Finalist, Lesbian Fiction
FROM THE PUBLISHER
Nora and Fern are just like any other mother and daughter - their relationship is tumultuous, marked by brooding silences and curt exchanges. For Nora, Fern is an enigma - incomprehensible, unfindable. Fern has never really forgiven her mother for leaving her marriage to live with her lover, Jeanne. Their story is a contemporary one, in which mothering is a mapless journey and children are left to form themselves in the shadows cast by idiosyncratic parenting. Here, too, is the reality that perfectly reasonable people will find some way to throw a wrench into the smooth, well-oiled workings of their lives. Nora's relationship with Jeanne has settled into domestic stability, triggering in Nora a familiar restlessness that leads to an affair. When Fern intuits her mother's indiscretion, she looks to the two people she depends on most: her uncle Harold and her best friend, Tracy, who now has the overwhelming task of raising a baby. As Fern begins to take on more of the baby's care herself, she discovers some of the powerful ambiguities of parental love - and starts to find her way back to her own mother. Carol Anshaw has been praised for her "warmhearted sympathies and lively wit" (Newsday). LUCKY IN THE CORNER, with the author's inimitable humor and insight, shows us the way a family reconfigures itself as unexpected changes come its way - and how, no matter what shape it takes, it remains a family.
FROM THE CRITICS
Publishers Weekly
A zinger of an opening scene, narrated with brio and poetic clarity, inaugurates the emotional tension and sweetly farcical action of this new novel by Anshaw (Aquamarine). Fern, 21, is a senior in college. More than a decade ago, her Chicago college administrator mother, Nora, left Fern's father to come out of the closet and live with her lover, Jeanne. A casualty of Nora's new identity, Fern is still sullen and vulnerable, and not about to make things easier for her mother, especially when she discovers that Nora is cheating on Jeanne, having succumbed to the passion ignited by tough-girl Pam, a construction worker. Fern also worries about her best friend, Tracy, a perennially restless and reckless adventurer who feels tied down by her new baby, born out of wedlock. Then Fern herself falls in love with a guy who has problems. Fortunately, Fern can confide in her Uncle Harold, a gentle cross-dresser who on Thursday afternoons hosts his canasta club as Dolores. The characters may be offbeat, but the novel is mainstream in its appeal, radiating energy and humor, and dispensing wisdom about the frailties of the human heart. Anshaw's prose sparkles with gems of description and solid psychological perceptions. The narrative smoothly integrates the flash points in mother-daughter relations, the bonds and tensions between lovers, the sexual fires that disrupt a trusting relationship, the ties that constitute family and the deep affection between a girl and her dog. The eponymous Lucky has been the one constant in Fern's life; his death is a touching rite of passage, when Fern understands that she has learned to take responsibility and feel compassion for herself and others. Agent, Jean Naggar. (May 22) Forecast: Movie scouts, take note. This could be a real winner on the silver screen. Copyright 2001 Cahners Business Information.
Library Journal
Expertly crafted, with just the right amount of tension, drama, and humor, Anshaw's new novel is the kind of work that readers love to savor, anxiously reading ahead but regretting that it must come to an end. Nora and her teenage daughter, Fern, have a typically contentious relationship. They share a house with Nora's partner, Jeanne, and their dog, Lucky, and life is purring along until Nora makes a bad decision that results in a painful disruption of their family life. Fern, wise beyond her years, emerges as the real caregiver, checking in with her depressive boyfriend, rescuing her best friend from becoming a child abuser, and ultimately even putting her battles with her mother on hold long enough to help Nora recover her footing in life. Anshaw creates intelligent characters about whom the reader will come to care deeply. Her characterization of the aging family dog is as considered and detailed as that of the human principals in the story and will strike a familiar chord with pet owners. Anshaw is the author of two Lambda Award finalists, Aquamarine and Seven Moves. Her latest is highly recommended for all fiction collections. Caroline Mann, Univ. of Portland Lib., OR Copyright 2002 Cahners Business Information.
Kirkus Reviews
A tender comedy of contemporary manners from Anshaw (Aquamarine, 1992, etc.), centered on a mother and daughter who love each other but can't quite connect. Fern has never really forgiven Nora for coming out as a lesbian and taking Fern away from her father to live in a series of ramshackle apartments with a transient population of overnight girlfriends. Though Fern's now in college and Nora has settled down with calm, domestic (albeit slightly controlling) Jeanne, she still fears that her mother will pull another disappearing act. Spending time with her wild friend Tracy, who refuses to discuss the paternity of infant son Vaughn, Fern can see how hard it is to be a young woman thrust unexpectedly into motherhood (as Nora was). Fern tends to Vaughn with more patience and purpose than Tracy can muster, but she still relates to Nora like a sullen teenager. Anshaw delineates their touchy exchanges in pitch-perfect, ruefully funny dialogue, and she surrounds them with a wonderfully vivid cast of supporting characters: Nora's cross-dressing (but straight) brother Harold, with whom Fern is close; the judgmental administrative assistant at the adult-education program Nora heads; Fern's new slacker boyfriend James (who could be Vaughn's father); Pam, the very butch contractor Nora is sneaking around with; and Lucky, Fern's aging dog. The author skillfully moves in and out of various people's heads, back and forth in time, weaving a seamless narrative that gradually unfolds the characters' motivations, past history, and gropings toward a more satisfying future. There won't be a dry eye in the house when Lucky's death moves Fern and Nora toward a more adult emotional relationship, even though thescene is as understated and subtle as every other element in Anshaw's compassionate portrait of human frailty and resilience. The finale offers hope for almost everyone, but no easy promises of smooth sailing ahead. Not a false note anywhere in a story that's as entertaining as it is wise. Anshaw just keeps getting better.