I picked up the 470-page paperback on a second-hand book stall, finishing it a week ago. I'd heard much praise about it on its first being published way back in 2003 and that had stuck with me - maybe helped a bit by knowing of a 2011 film (which I never actually saw) starring Tilda Swinton and John C. Reilly. The book has won numerous awards ever since it came out.
I'd never heard of the American writer, this being her seventh novel - and written in epistolary form throughout - consisting of a divorced wife and mother (of the titular Kevin) writing to her separated husband - it's all one-way correspondence, she to him (no indication of his replies, if any) - trying to make sense of the happenings concerning their rude, rebellious son growing from a mother-rejecting babyhood through his years to contemptuous adolescence, she ever trying to make sense of their son's attitude and behaviour, the father ever forward in dismissing his wife's concerns as exaggerated and being over-interpreted as to a 'normal' growing boy's development, always taking their son's side. To me she exhibits extraordinary patience (never hysterical, always non-hectoring) to both male members. And then........a new daughter arrives so Kevin now has a baby sister he can 'play' with.......
I don't want to give anything more away - and there is so much that could spoil it for would-be readers. I had to keep putting the book aside for several days, it being so overwhelmingly painful - and real! But having started, I just had to finish it - quite a marvel being that I was never once even slightly tempted to sneak a quick glance at the final pages to find out what eventually happened - and, my goodness, the word 'horror' barely scratches the surface!
So in no way can I say "You just have to read this!". In some ways I wish I hadn't. I'd be terribly interested to hear from anyone who already did - and were they affected by it as anything like I've been. My reluctance to go out and recommend it as a 'good' read is totally that I just don't want anyone else to be left with the equivalent mental scars which I bear having been through the whole agonising process - and will, perhaps continue to bear for all my remaining time.
