I didn’t want to read The Weird Sisters. I know, I asked for the review. It came and I glanced at the back and put it away. It didn’t call to me. I drug my heels. I finally decided that I had BETTER read it because the review was coming due.
I picked it up and within pages I was hooked. Actually page 7 marked the point when I knew it was a keeper.
Cordy had thus far refused to grow up, and we’d indulged that in the same way we’d indulged every other whim she’d had for nearly her entire life. After all, we could hardly blame her. We were fairly certain that if anyone made public the various and variegated ways in which being an adult sucked eggs, more people might opt out entirely.
That struck me just because a friend of mine and I had been talking about that very thing earlier in the day.
Then there are the sisters themselves. I am a middle daughter or an oldest daughter depending on who you want to consult. My older sister is 13 years older than I am. My younger sister is three years younger. Our blended family has four girls and two boys. (G, B, G, B, G, G) I know sisters and sister relationships. These are complicated, crazy, wonderful, and horrible. In The Weird Sisters, the same holds true.
I’ve inhaled enough Shakespeare over the years to not be thrown by the pure Shakespeare-ness of the book, but I do have to warn you that you might want to have a passing familiarity with the major works in order to not have to stop and look something up. (and you may still want to stop to ponder or re-read or something even if you know Shakespeare. Of course, that is always the way with him.) There were points where it did bug me that they would quote Shakespeare instead of spitting something out.
I also loved the family who reads, the girls parading to the library with their wagons to be filled with books. I read like that. I’ve been known to peer at people suspiciously when they say they don’t have time to read.
Then there is the omniscient first person plural narration. That’s just plain…weird. On the other hand, I think it helped in that it kept me safely away from falling into being one of the three sisters. It gave you the point of view of an audience at the theater perhaps.
In any case, I fell in love with the sisters, the family, and the book. Read it. Don’t drag your feet like I did.
This is a paid review for BlogHer Book Club but the opinions expressed are (very, very, very much) my own.