I asked Delight recently how her older brother was doing – as an oilfield worker for the past thirty years, Dean made it a habit to blow through cash as quickly as he got it; building up nothing; saving nothing – and she said that when Dean recently decided he was getting too old for the oilfield, he moved back home with their mother, offering himself as a carpenter around town. When their mother soon decided it was time to sell the family home, Dean secretly went around borrowing large sums, assuring everyone that once “our house” was sold, he'd be flush. When the house did sell, Dean was furious and bewildered to discover that half its value didn't go to him (I thought this was our house), and he was put in the position of not only having huge outstanding debts (even the local home reno center displayed his full name on their roadside electronic sign, demanding Dean come pay his bill), but he needed to start supporting himself for the first time (at fifty) while their mother moved into a small retirement complex. This counting-of-chickens-before-they-hatch is a common enough story, and this is, essentially, what The Nest is about: Four siblings spend their entire adult lives anticipating the inheritance that they are to receive when the youngest of them turns forty – some of them borrowing heavily against this “guaranteed” windfall – but when an accident occurs and their mother drains the fund, much scrambling ensues before the chickens come home to roost. The following passage pretty much captures the whole thing:
Walker couldn't remember the last time they'd entertained Jack's family. It had been years. Melody's birthday dinner had been Walker's idea. He'd been itching to get them all together in one room and try to make a tiny inroad into facilitating some kind of agreement about the infernal sum of money they still insisted on calling The Nest, which drove Walker mad. Aside from being infantile, he couldn't fathom how a group of adults could use that term in apparent earnestness and never even casually contemplate the twisted metaphor of the thing, and how it related to their dysfunctional behavior as individuals and a group. Just one of the many things about the Plumb family he'd stopped trying to understand.What we learn:
• “It had been years” since the group had all gotten together: the four siblings are all in the NYC area but it takes a threat to their inheritance to assemble them. With the exception of Bea (a warm but detached writer who never fulfilled her early potential), the siblings are selfish, shallow, unlikeable people who value money and appearances over relationships.
• The “dinner had been Walker's idea”: behind each of the siblings is an understanding and loving partner who values the “right” things. With the exception of Walter (who is more realistic than blindly supportive), these partners are all too good to be true.
• Referring to the inheritance as “The Nest” is “infantile” and a “twisted metaphor”: ironically winking at the central imagery of your book is the kind of smug MFA conceit that I'm finding ever-increasingly wearisome.
• “Their dysfunctional behavior as individuals and a group”: the siblings really are messed up, and I think the best part of this book is the look at who each of them was as a child and how these traits carried through into adulthood, and especially how each of them was rooted to a particular role in the family.
• “He'd stopped trying to understand”: as the behaviour of the siblings is incomprehensible to someone who has known them for twenty years, it's like the author is saying, “I know they don't make sense, but this is just the way some people are. Don't take my word for it, even the saintly Walker thinks so.”
I would have liked The Nest better if there had been anything important at stake: my friend's brother reached middle age with nothing to show for himself, and after borrowing money he couldn't repay, he risked actual homelessness. In the book, Jack wanted his overpriced antique shop to appear to be profitable so he took out a line of credit against their country home – all that was at risk was the revelation of deceit, and if it came to it, the sale of a second home. **spoiler** And the fact that Jack was relieved to be finally living life alone and on his own terms after the loving and accommodating Walker left – over Jack's eventual, bigger betrayal – made me dislike Jack even more. **/spoiler** So, I didn't like these characters, or the plot, and as I didn't flag any particularly engaging writing, one can assume that I wasn't impressed by it either. I also didn't like all the extra characters and plot twists – the pizza guy, the security guard, the second gay couple – and all that business could have been cut without losing anything. I could have given this book three stars as a light and breezy read that didn't ask too much of me, but the ending was too annoying not to cost a star **spoiler** Fine, everyone gives up something to get out of debt, and once little Lillian is born, the Plumbs learn that family is the greatest treasure. This overly happy fairy tale ending undermines anything that was interesting that came before **/spoiler**. The Nest has been an incredible seller at the book store, and I can give it two stars without feeling too badly for Cynthia D'Aprix Sweeney's bottom line, but I wish I had given it a pass.
I remember we had a "financial checkup" at the bank about ten years ago, and as our advisor was checking us for eventual "retirement readiness", Dave and I had to list all our assets; the usual house, cars, pension, and savings accounts. When Gene asked if that was it, I felt slimy saying, "We'll probably get a good sized inheritance from our parents." As my parents' executor, I know exactly what "sized" that's expected to be, and as Dave only has the one sister, we could probably approximate what their parents will leave us, but Gene put up his hand and said he didn't even want us to guess about inheritance numbers as he never uses them in retirement calculations: he has seen far too many people relying on an inheritance that never materialises. I can totally see how that could happen, and in a perfect world, our parents would have fun blowing through all the money they've worked a lifetime for...and yet I know it's there...and I certainly am not wishing for my parents' deaths to get my grubby fingers on it...and yet I'd be gutted if some conman swindled their money out of them...and I know it's only theoretical at this point...but I can't help believing that it will be there for us some day...a long time from now...not that I'd ever borrow against it...what's more ticklish than an inheritance?
