Leslie Carter is the last "original" wife among her husband's group of friends. On vacation in Edinburgh, she falls down a manhole, is knocked unconscious and breaks her arm. Her husband - walking a few paces ahead with friends - doesn't notice until he's back at the hotel. When she wakes up from surgery, it's to the face of an almost-stranger (one of the new wives), and not her husband. Returning home to Atlanta, she realizes how unhappy she is and begins to contemplate what a different life might look like.
The best thing that can be said for Dorothea Benton Frank's The Last Original Wife is that it's pure mind mush: an easy afternoon read that requires virtually no concentration. Which is good, because once you start to think about it, it makes no sense.
First, the whole, "Boo hoo, I'm the last original wife." Now, from the inside of the book flap, "Leslie Anne Greene Carter is the Last Original Wife among her husband Wesley's wildly successful Atlanta social set. His cronies have all traded in the mothers of their children that they promised to love and cherish - 'til death did them part - for tanned and toned Barbie brides." Issue number one: the "wildly successful social set" consists of only two other men. Not exactly a robust social scene - or even sample size. Secondly, "til death did them part." Well, in one case, it did. So there is one - read that ONE - friend who "traded in" the mother of his children.
Secondly, early in the book Leslie is 58. This is stated quite clearly within the opening chapters. At the end of the book, Leslie celebrates her 60th birthday. And yet, over and over and over again, the reader is told that Leslie regrets getting pregnant in her last semester of college, not earning a degree, being such a young mother, blah, blah, blah. So is she 52 going on 53 or is she 58 going on 60? And how did Frank's editor not catch this/insist that it be corrected?
Also, Leslie describes Wesley (seriously??) as the consummate bully, but while he might be a bit of a boor (or bore), he never really comes across as a bully. I had a hard time feeling too sorry for her.
Finally, I actually find the plot to be very, very similar to that of Dora in Mary Alice Monroe's The Summer Wind. Like, weirdly similar. And I preferred Monroe's.
That is all.
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