Debut novel examines lives of privileged New Yorkers about to inherit a trust fund
First World problems, family troubles — oh, the tangled lives the privileged lead. This debut novel by author Cynthia D’Aprix Sweeney sparked a bidding war that reached seven figures, a testament to the bankable appeal of American family dysfunction.
When things go wrong, when our dreams turn into nightmares — when a sibling is to blame — it seems the whole world can relate.
Melody Plumb is about to turn 40, although even her own mother keeps forgetting the date. Still, Melody’s 40th marks the day when the Plumb family “nest,” the trust fund established by her father, will be disbursed. A fund that began modestly is now massive. Are the rich different from you and me? We’re about to find out.
In a surprising but hardly unexpected twist, Melody’s handsome brother Leo, high as a kite, crashes his car and badly injures Matilda, the teenage waitress he’s busy seducing. Quicker than you can say “pay her off,” there goes much of the nest.
Matriarch Francie, the iciest mother imaginable, observes her “impractical . . . entitled” offspring as they react (badly) to her raid on the nest. Spendthrift Melody and her debt-ridden brother Jack are especially stricken — they’ve practically spent their shares. No one spares a thought for vulnerable, undocumented Matilda. Charming Leo has long dominated his siblings, and we watch with interest as, chapter by chapter, he grows bored with his power to enthrall. Broke, fresh from “fake rehab,” he takes refuge in his ex-girlfriend’s Brooklyn brownstone — a nest of a different sort.
We’ve met Leo before: He’s the devil in disguise, even from himself. But it’s not just louche Leo. Growing up with a “nest” has hobbled everyone — blocked writer Bea, Melody of the secret credit card, endlessly sneaky Jack. Are all Plumbs past their best-before dates? So wickedly acerbic is Sweeney that it comes as a shock when she introduces the genuinely likeable editor Paul Underwood, Bea’s mute adorer. Another true and curious thing is that the Plumbs’ disappointment with Leo doesn’t mean they give up on him — Bea and Paul try to find him when he flees to the Caribbean.
Yet the narrative gains traction whenever it moves beyond the family implosion. Sweeney’s at her most enticing when she shows Melody’s teen girls misbehaving in Manhattan, when she sketches Tommy, a guilt-ridden Brooklyn firefighter with a valuable secret, or when she gets inside the head of volatile Vinnie, Matilda’s would-be white knight.
Sweeney’s New York — Grand Central Station, the Museum of Natural History, Central Park, even Ground Zero’s aftermath — weaves spells of longing, temptation, nostalgia. Within this urban tapestry, Sweeney sews incremental threads of hope. Perhaps these middle-aged fledglings will spread their wings and fly, free of family politics and the nest, growing into the rest of their lives. We wish them — and ourselves — nothing less. Nancy Wigston is a freelance writer in Toronto.