Unoriginal and overlong novel of female friendship - a plodding tale of caricatures and tiresome humour.
Although my usual reading matter of choice are crime thrillers, I do have a penchant for Maeve Binchy and her warm, insightful and ultimately uplifting novels set in Ireland and the irreverent humour of Marian Keyes. According to the premise of Claudia Carroll’s novel this big hearted tale of female friendship and the lives of those who reside in Primrose Square, Dublin 2 appears to share much in common with these novels. Sadly I found the whole novel pretty laboured and uninspiring stuff that frustrated with its repetition and hackneyed set-pieces, all mined to cringeworthy and highly predictable ‘comic’ effect. Although the ‘secrets’ are eminently guessable (pretty obvious), the exact circumstances are eked out painfully over the entire length of the novel which only serves to highlight the plodding pace further.
The beautiful residential Primrose Square is located just off the main thoroughfares of Dublin and is home to a handful of well-maintained Victorian properties set around a community square and children’s playground. As a blissfully safe oasis within touching distance of a vibrant city, the properties are highly sought after and the neighbours friendly, but for four ladies residing within the square, the secrets they have long held dear are about to surface and bring them closer than ever before because there is plenty of drama hidden behind their closed doors. The Secrets of Primrose Square is about companionship, friendship and the benefits of a support network in facing the often painful truths which we all encounter at times. Whilst the characters of Jayne, Susan, Melissa and Nancy might appear to be markedly different, all muddling along and dealing with their own problems and hidden concerns, they are far stronger together and they about to find out just what they can confront and achieve between them!
Number 18 is home to the once happy Hayes family but after the death of wilful seventeen-year-old eldest daughter, Ella, and deployment of army husband Jack, to the Lebanon, only embittered, heartbroken and obsessed mother, Susan, and her twelve-year-old daughter, Melissa, remain. Increasing neglectful of Melissa, a burning desire for vengeance and hatred of the teenage boy whom Susan holds responsible for Ella’s tragic death is threatening to destroy her remaining family life as she risks a restraining order and the attentions of social services. As Melissa does her best to maintain a semblance of normality at home, reassure the school counsellor and be the responsible adult, her plight is painfully obvious to compassionate, sixty-six-year-old widow, Jayne Dawson, next door at number 19. As Jayne steps in as pretend grandmother to Melissa and offers the young girl much needed love and stability, she too labours under a secret as she muses on the introduction of her Florida based online male ‘friend’ into her heart and the reaction of her money grabbing son and snobby daughter-in-law to ageing hippie, Eric. Into this mix comes thirty-three-year-old born and bred Londoner, Nancy Thompson, running from a messy past and some very vicious gossip and seeking a fresh start as the assistant director on the forthcoming production of Pride and Prejudice at the nearby National Theatre. As the house sitter for a mysterious landlord at the fully revamped and high-spec number 24 at just a fraction of the market price, could Nancy’s fortunes have changed for the better? And might the text message attentions of her mysterious landlord ease the pain of her past?
As Melissa, Jayne and Nancy pass into each other lives, first on the fringes and quickly becoming increasingly more involved, they find common ground and unexpected understanding, solidarity and friendship across the generational divide as they support each other and gradually confront their dilemmas. The progression of the unfolding drama does not make for stimulating reading as each chapter offers a snapshot into the lives of the group and gives a sense of their burdens. From behind the scenes with Nancy’s demanding theatre luvvies, a high maintenance Spanish director and a bitchy cast, it is all such banal low-brow humour from the off. I had hoped for some insightful moments given the author’s previous acting career but alas, originality never seemed on the horizon. The reaction to Eric, Jayne’s yoga practising, chakra realigning, long-haired and sandal wearing hippie beau by her son, Jason and daughter-in-law who suspect him of being a gold digger is the stuff of a 1980’s sitcom and full of jaded slights against everything new age and Eastern. Susan’s inpatient stay at a psychiatric hospital/rehab centre is perhaps the most cringeworthy with group therapy sessions so lacking in emotional sincerity and any modicum of subtlety that they only serve to offend.
I could not relate to any of the women purely because they exist for one sole comic purpose and Claudia Carroll does not bother to furnish them with credible and ongoing lives outside of their allotted niche. They are so far from well-realised creations and due to how flimsy they appear I found even relating to the world painted in Primrose Square impossible. Ella’s presence is felt throughout the novel and perhaps, in truth, a little overdone to the point of becoming frustrating, especially given that she is portrayed as one-dimensionally as the rest of the cast with her spirited attitude, feminist views and protest marching dynamism.
Lacking in emotional depth and sincerity, Claudia Carroll does not share Maeve Binchy’s eye for credible, humane and realistically flawed characters and her chick lit humour lacks the incisive bite and originality of Marian Keyes. Disappointing, The Secrets of Primrose Square is unoriginal and overlong with the resulting outcome a predictably contrived and plodding tale of caricatures and tiresome humour. For a superior brand of women’s fiction I highly recommend Dorothy Koomson, Lisa Jewell and Jane Fallon.
With thanks to Readers First who provided me with a free copy of this novel in exchange for my honest and unbiased opinion.
The beautiful residential Primrose Square is located just off the main thoroughfares of Dublin and is home to a handful of well-maintained Victorian properties set around a community square and children’s playground. As a blissfully safe oasis within touching distance of a vibrant city, the properties are highly sought after and the neighbours friendly, but for four ladies residing within the square, the secrets they have long held dear are about to surface and bring them closer than ever before because there is plenty of drama hidden behind their closed doors. The Secrets of Primrose Square is about companionship, friendship and the benefits of a support network in facing the often painful truths which we all encounter at times. Whilst the characters of Jayne, Susan, Melissa and Nancy might appear to be markedly different, all muddling along and dealing with their own problems and hidden concerns, they are far stronger together and they about to find out just what they can confront and achieve between them!
Number 18 is home to the once happy Hayes family but after the death of wilful seventeen-year-old eldest daughter, Ella, and deployment of army husband Jack, to the Lebanon, only embittered, heartbroken and obsessed mother, Susan, and her twelve-year-old daughter, Melissa, remain. Increasing neglectful of Melissa, a burning desire for vengeance and hatred of the teenage boy whom Susan holds responsible for Ella’s tragic death is threatening to destroy her remaining family life as she risks a restraining order and the attentions of social services. As Melissa does her best to maintain a semblance of normality at home, reassure the school counsellor and be the responsible adult, her plight is painfully obvious to compassionate, sixty-six-year-old widow, Jayne Dawson, next door at number 19. As Jayne steps in as pretend grandmother to Melissa and offers the young girl much needed love and stability, she too labours under a secret as she muses on the introduction of her Florida based online male ‘friend’ into her heart and the reaction of her money grabbing son and snobby daughter-in-law to ageing hippie, Eric. Into this mix comes thirty-three-year-old born and bred Londoner, Nancy Thompson, running from a messy past and some very vicious gossip and seeking a fresh start as the assistant director on the forthcoming production of Pride and Prejudice at the nearby National Theatre. As the house sitter for a mysterious landlord at the fully revamped and high-spec number 24 at just a fraction of the market price, could Nancy’s fortunes have changed for the better? And might the text message attentions of her mysterious landlord ease the pain of her past?
As Melissa, Jayne and Nancy pass into each other lives, first on the fringes and quickly becoming increasingly more involved, they find common ground and unexpected understanding, solidarity and friendship across the generational divide as they support each other and gradually confront their dilemmas. The progression of the unfolding drama does not make for stimulating reading as each chapter offers a snapshot into the lives of the group and gives a sense of their burdens. From behind the scenes with Nancy’s demanding theatre luvvies, a high maintenance Spanish director and a bitchy cast, it is all such banal low-brow humour from the off. I had hoped for some insightful moments given the author’s previous acting career but alas, originality never seemed on the horizon. The reaction to Eric, Jayne’s yoga practising, chakra realigning, long-haired and sandal wearing hippie beau by her son, Jason and daughter-in-law who suspect him of being a gold digger is the stuff of a 1980’s sitcom and full of jaded slights against everything new age and Eastern. Susan’s inpatient stay at a psychiatric hospital/rehab centre is perhaps the most cringeworthy with group therapy sessions so lacking in emotional sincerity and any modicum of subtlety that they only serve to offend.
I could not relate to any of the women purely because they exist for one sole comic purpose and Claudia Carroll does not bother to furnish them with credible and ongoing lives outside of their allotted niche. They are so far from well-realised creations and due to how flimsy they appear I found even relating to the world painted in Primrose Square impossible. Ella’s presence is felt throughout the novel and perhaps, in truth, a little overdone to the point of becoming frustrating, especially given that she is portrayed as one-dimensionally as the rest of the cast with her spirited attitude, feminist views and protest marching dynamism.
Lacking in emotional depth and sincerity, Claudia Carroll does not share Maeve Binchy’s eye for credible, humane and realistically flawed characters and her chick lit humour lacks the incisive bite and originality of Marian Keyes. Disappointing, The Secrets of Primrose Square is unoriginal and overlong with the resulting outcome a predictably contrived and plodding tale of caricatures and tiresome humour. For a superior brand of women’s fiction I highly recommend Dorothy Koomson, Lisa Jewell and Jane Fallon.
With thanks to Readers First who provided me with a free copy of this novel in exchange for my honest and unbiased opinion.