An eclectic assortment of humanity, with all their foibles and failings, lived in the house on Moody Avenue over a period of ninety years. I tell their stories.
Lisette, her unshakable faith sustaining her, is undeterred in the face of adversity; Julia, a social-climbing snob, sees her world crumble when her children marry inappropriately; Clarence, a Casper Milquetoast bank clerk, absconds with a quarter of a million dollars; Frances, a country girl, comes to the big city to marry a rich man; Sammy, a black man, passes for white.
Beatnik squatters, high on LSD, burn down the condemned ninety-year-old house, leaving it naught but a precious memory in the hearts of those who once sought its shelter.
This book simply wasn't for me. Part one was simply okay. You get to meet Lisette and get into her life and it is somewhat interesting. Then part two arrives and it gets choppy and boring.
I tried to finish this book, but I just couldn't make myself get interested enough to keep going.
Sorry.