Title: The Clover House
Author: Henriette Lazaridis Power
Publisher: Ballantine Books
Length: 397 pages
It took me much longer than it should have to read this book. It has the vibe of a Kate Morton novel, but didn’t quite enrapture me in the same way – mostly because I am preoccupied. It’s possibly ironic because this preoccupation was along the same vein of that of the main character – but I was left unmoved.
It’s the slipperiness of memory that caught my attention though. How some people remember things so drastically different than other people who were right there in the same room. How perceptions are changed by knowledge. How ignorance is not always bliss, but can be if you let it.
I think more than anything, the book was good, but perhaps I wasn’t ready for it. And if I was, perhaps I’m just not ready to discuss it. Don’t be surprised if I bring it up six months from now, once I’ve digested it all.