Apr 27, 2010 Posted by denice johnson on Apr 27, 2010 in life | 0 comments

The Penny Tree by Holly Kennedy: A Review

A while back I asked my readers on Twitter what they do if they are reading a book they don’t like. Persevere or ditch it? I admit that I usually forge ahead and force myself to finish what I’ve started and have lately begun to think that this habit works against me. I avoid reading the book I am not enjoying and end up not starting anything new. I allow myself to become a slave to the task of completing that which I do not wish to complete. It’s a silly thing to do and, happily, I’ve stopped myself this time around.

I’ve been reading The Penny Tree on the recommendation of a good friend. Well, less on recommendation than on the fact that she just passed along a stack of books from her pile in the basement. I’m not sure she even realized which books she was giving me. And, truthfully, she might have enjoyed this book. I wonder at this being true but then I wonder at a lot of things.

Let me begin by saying that The Penny Tree by Holly Kennedy has had some rather good reviews elsewhere. There are definitely people who like it very much and to those people I say awesome. Not everyone likes the same thing and thank goodness. It would be a crazy dull world if we did. Having now made what will have to pass as my apology to the author, let’s move on.

The bones of The Penny Tree are essentially good. The plot is basic but interesting. A mother of two boys is divorced and struggling to find her way, which is relatable. Annie is worn out by the stupid things that happen to a life that should have been good. She’s lost her sense of self in the serious illness of her younger son and the resulting demise of her marriage. She moves back to the town she grew up in and fumbles in no real direction.

The problem I have with The Penny Tree is in the writing. Every literary cliché is employed to tell what could have been a good story with judicious editing. Take for example the following quotes from the book:

“He was in his late twenties, filled out his jeans like a Calvin Klein poster boy, and had a George Clooney smile to go with it.”

This is groan out loud awful. Other than the fact that this flies in the face of show don’t tell, it is also cliché and juvenile. This is the kind of thing I stop to read out loud to my husband in a fit of frustration. “…filled out his jeans like a Calvin Klein poster boy…”? Honestly? He didn’t. And even if he did why are you telling us? Show us. Let us conjure an image rather than smacking us in the face with a commercial concept.

“They danced an almost perfect two-step like partners in crime, like they belonged together.”

Like partners in crime? Dancing the two-step? Perfectly? Metaphors are a tricky business and should be mostly avoided – especially bad metaphors.

“Annie gave him a slightly amazed smile, but she wasn’t really paying attention.”

A slightly amazed smile? Not even really paying attention? First, slightly amazed sounds an awful lot like a little pregnant. Amazed is not something you can sorta be. I’m sorta amazed but also, meh, not really. Second, even if it were possible to be slightly amazed, you could not be so if you were not really paying attention.

It continues….

“Instead, her eyes were fixed on his mouth and her mind had wandered off to some imaginary place where Jack was slow dancing with her duct-taped to his feet.”

The duct-tape part makes sense if you read the surrounding content. At issue is the wandering off to ‘some imaginary place’. Why say that? How do those words create a tangible image for the reader? They add nothing to the story and should have been cut by the author or, at least, the editor.

And yet, there are some touching parts, some real connections among characters.

Annie stood and brushed herself off, watching him closely. “There was one other thing your grandpa made me promise I’d always do when life knocked me down.”

He looked up at her expectantly. “What?”

“Get up,” she said, reaching for his hand.

This passage does not appear to have much going on and, for this book, that’s a good thing. Less is more and in this simple exchange between Annie and her older, troubled teenage son the reader senses that there is indeed still a connection in this strained relationship. I’d replace the “when life knocked me down” with something less obvious but that’s nitpicking. If Holly Kennedy had given us more of this and less of the Calvin Klein slightly amazed nonsense The Penny Tree could have been a far better book. One I might have finished. As it stands, I have given it up and moved on to A Million Little Pieces which I am already enjoying immensely.

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If you like book reviews, maybe you’d like to check out:
A Reliable Wife by Robert Goolrick
Fruit by Brian Francis