The Gin Closet

Recently I read Amy Greene's Bloodroot which is about a strange, almost mystical woman whose haunting, painful story is told from several viewpoints. Leslie Jamison's The Gin Closet is Bloodroot's west coast cousin in that it tells a story of a woman whose troubled life mixes with that of another generation. But while I had issues with Greene's story (even though the prose was gorgeous), I had no such problems with Jamison's debut novel where the prose is lyrical and cutting. The story is really about two women. It opens with Stella, who flees the loneliness of New York City, after her grandmother dies. Before Lucy died, she tells Stella about her younger daughter, Matilda. Tilly, as everyone but her mother called her, was unknown to Stella. Stella's mother asks her and Stella's brother, Tom, to deliver a letter to Tilly. Stella, who has issues of her own, compulsively decides to help her newly found aunt reconnect with her son in San Francisco. Tilly, however, has issues even deeper than Stella's. The title of the book is not poetic. It is meant to be taken literally. Tilly is an alcoholic whose life never got on track after she ran away from home. It is clear from her telling is that she is haunted by depression that she never gets help for because Tilly is trying to survive. When Stella comes into her life, she is living in a trailer in Nevada. She was once a prostitute. Her son came from a client. To her, he is the only thing she ever did right. When she mentions her son's loneliness, Stella tells her that they'll go stay with him. This decision is partially for Tilly who Stella wants to help clean up and partially for Stella who is trying to find a life of her own. Jamison's story is beautifully told. It is haunting and full of melancholy that never shakes free. Her portrayal of Tilly's alcoholism isn't prettified. I had an uncle who never shook free of its grip and I recognized it in Tilly. They knew the problem but couldn't embrace the cure. Not when it seemed to mask the pain that they feared more. In Abe, Tilly's son, we get the glimpse of why Tilly loves him so. He's not glamorous or spiteful or neglectful. He's just ordinary with flaws but underneath, he's good. Like Tilly and Stella, he's lonely too. In that respect, Tilly knew her boy. As one reads The Gin Closet, it will seem like nothing is really happening. Tilly gets a job. Tilly loses her job. Abe gets flustered. Abe goes to Detroit. Stella makes salad. Stella freaks when cornered by bums in a parking lot. It is a patchwork of mundane moments and reflections of their lives (Stella and Tilly). It seems disconnected at first, but will suddenly flow together so smoothly and seamlessly that one won't realize that the story is almost over until it is almost over. The end comes softly but feels real in its post-script gray. It almost seems too abrupt but not really at the same time because we know how the rest will flow. It is too recognizable for the reader to not know tha

In The Gin Closet, two women tell their stories: Stella, a young and disenchanted New York college graduate, and Tillie, her estranged and troubled aunt, whose existence the family has denied for decades. The characters move gingerly into each other's lives, revealing lost worlds of history and trauma to one another. The book charts new territory in its exploration of the rescuer/victim dynamic, complicating the traditional roles at every term. And the pages turn quickly--I was wowed by the personal revelations, the twists of plot, the author's ability to sustain intensity scene after captivating scene. By the end, you feel as though you've read two books: a dazzling work of fiction, and a deeply human philosophical treatise on different types of pain, the many ways we can hurt and be hurt. For fiction lovers, there's a simple joy here, too: feeling oneself in the hands of talented and capable author. The characters are rendered so well that they nearly lose fictional status--for much of my reading, I had the unsettling, thrilling feeling of spying on real people. There are turns of phrase to savor in almost every sentence, and Jamison demonstrates a gift for imagistic detail. The Gin Closet is an achievement for a first novelist--for any novelist. Highly recommended.

Haunting and honest. Exquisite portrayal of human nature, flaws and all. No sell-out ending here.

The Gin Closet is an extraordinary split portrait, beautifully illuminated and profoundly original. Stella and Tilly are both estranged--from their families, from the world. At once reflective and searching, they reveal themselves with unflinching candor and sensitivity. Jamison's prose is lyrical but never protrusive, each moment of language perfectly distilled and woven into the narrative. Its intimacy, its flashes of humor, its unrelenting honesty--this novel is often challenging and always magnificent.

I basically didn't put the book down from the moment I started reading it. It is emotive, captivating and beautifully written. Definitely a good addition to your library.