Warning: This Review Contains Spoilers
Mark this down as another book that I enjoyed, but didn't quite
love. Something kept me separated from the story, kept me from
falling head over heels for the characters (although the "women from
away" stole my heart quite a bit.) It felt at times like I could see the
story engine grinding too much behind the scenes, could see the way
things were going to go.
The writing is really quite lovely,
so the predictability wasn't as big a problem as it could have been in the hands of a
lesser wordsmith. But there were no real surprises in this book. Of
course the midwife wasn't supposed to end up with the handsome but mean and
drunken man and was supposed to end up with his kind, injured brother
instead. Of course, when she was accused of causing a
woman's death, it turned out the woman's husband had pushed her down the
stairs instead. All of these things felt quite predictable, and I would have liked non-obvious things to happen.
The
one thing I did enjoy was that, at the end, she didn't marry the nice
brother, kept her own house, but they stayed together for thirty
years. The reaction to this rang very true for what I know of small-town
life, where a relationship like that is scandalous and causes talk and
some ostracism, but may, in the long run, just fade into the
scenery.
Dora,
as a young woman, is taken up by the local midwife, and taught her
craft. She becomes the sole midwife in her mountain maritime area just
as a new doctor comes into town, offering pain-free hospital births,
hell-bent on putting Dora out of business, and preferably, in jail. She
has to battle the changing tide of medical opinion, her place as an
oddity in a community that is trying to forget where they all were
birthed, and a questionable marriage. And eventually, a murder charge,
when a woman is found dead in her home, and her death is blamed on
Dora's ministrations.
Ami McKay has a real gift for creating
sympathetic characters, but her antagonists are a little bit thin. The
"women from away" who have married into this community, and form the
basis of Dora's female support network are lovely. Dora is interesting,
although I can't say I ever quite got attached to her. Brief sketches
show the depth of feeling between Dora's mother and father, and I loved
that.
But the aunt falls a little too much into the stereotype
of the religious hypocrite. I'm not saying these people don't exist, but
could we have a little variation once in a while? The doctor is also never
really fully developed. There are signs of him having a creepy obsession
with Dora, but that's not fully explored.
And this is not
something I'm blaming the author for, as I think it's a logical
assumption to make based on the name of this group, and there's very
little written about them out there, but the Sons of Temperance are one
of three groups I'm writing my dissertation on, and every time she
talked about the Sons of Temperance, and the nights when all the men
were off at those meetings, giving the women the night to themselves, it
gave my eye a little bit of a twitch. By the 1910s, the Sons of
Temperance had admitted women as full members in their organization for
over 50 years. It was not a "no-girls-allowed" club. That's actually one
of the things that makes them unique on the fraternal order scene.
That's
a very minor quibble, and comes directly out of my extremely
specialized knowledge of the group. I try not to be a stickler for
historical accuracy. But still, because that's one of the groups I spend
my days writing about, it bothered me a bit.
In short, The Birth House
is well-written, has an interesting if somewhat predictable story, and
likeable sympathetic characters, if cardboardy unsympathetic ones. I
enjoyed it while I read it.
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