During the Reign of the Queen of Persia

The "Queen of Persia" is Lil/Gran, the matriarch of an Ohio farm family in the mid 1900s. Gran had 5 daughters and 4 of her granddaughters spend their summers and some years at the farm. The five daughters also keep coming back to the family home, when fallen on hard times financially, after divorces, when ill, or just to visit. They are all drawn back repeatedly. One of the first generation of sisters, Grace, gets breast cancer and her illness and death is central to the book. She is mother to two of the four girls growing up in the home. But outside the spectre of death, we also see the four girls growing up. Their experiences are related in a disjointed manner, but a complete picture of girlhood emerges nonetheless.

One of the show more interesting things for me was the narration of the book. It's a first person narration, but from the point of view of all four girls as a collective, so the dominant pronoun is "we". All of the older generation of daughters are referred to as "Aunt so and so", even though some of these Aunts are mother to some of the narrators. I was confused at first, but came to really like it. It's an interesting way of describing identity, and I can't really recall another book that has used this same technique. I guess sort of like a greek chorus, but they weren't commentating on events, they were living them.

This won't be for everyone - it's a bit quirky and a bit depressing - but I quite liked it. show less

This was, yes, fabulous, as I was told it would be—thanks to all my good reading friends for that recommendation. I love a book where the writing is so strong it bleeds over into the day-to-day personal narrative in your head and makes it that much more vibrant and beautiful, and this book did just that. Really, really lovely. Beautiful images of the natural world and great, spiky, complex characterizations of the people.

Set in a small town in Ohio in the 1950's, this is the story of a family of women: a mother, her five daughters, and the four granddaughters who collectively act as narrators of the book. Lil, the grandmother married a cold-hearted, often cruel man and life was hard; however, she was able to inherit or somehow gain money from a brother. She was shrewd and hard-working, but there was not a sentimental bone in her body - life was "what it was". The novel is really a look at family relationships rather than being plot driven. Each chapter highlights some aspect of either Lil or one of the daughters. The chapter that portrays Lil's husband is the most effective.

The narrator is confusing as it is supposed told from the viewpoint of all four show more granddaughters who are cousins; two being the daughters of Grace, who dies of cancer surrounded by her sisters, Rachel, May, Eleanor, and Libby. At times the sisters are unbelievably cruel and nasty to each other; yet love and loyalty always win. They all seem to have terrible taste in men as all the men in the book are weak.

I gave this only a three due to the confusing narrator. At times, I wasn't really sure who was speaking. And, some of the situations just did not seem to fit the 1950's small town; while others were right on. Not sure why this is considered a "classic" other than the fact that it might be a good study in female family relationships. show less

A pretty slow-moving character study. I enjoyed it at first for the descriptive writing, but then it just got slow.

I found both the story and the writing disjointed. Even the good plot ciouldn't save it.

stupid title. good story. i was a little confused as to who was whose kid. who is the author?

When we lived there, on the farm which was right on the edge of the city limits, we thought it the very center of the world, and green and golden land and wooded hollows which began two blocks over from the railroad loop and then rolled off to obscurity formed a natural barrier to the rest of existence, which we dismissed as the outer darkness. (2)

Often she'd (Aunt Libby) warned us that moments of happiness hang like pearls on the finest silken thread, certain to be snapped, the pearls scattered away. (36)

Before we got into the house there was the smell of coffee coming onto the porch. Grandad's straw-and-manure-crusted boots were set beside the fir-board cupboards and the shelves that overflowed with so much junk nobody could find show more anything. (62)

'Gram's baking pies,' we sang as we raced up the stairs to change, with still a full day ahead, a day holding everything we could ever want. (62)

Peaceable, we waited on the porch in the dappling noontime. In the Mason jars stacked up dusty and fly-specked on the side shelves, in the broken-webbed snowshoes hung there, the heap of rusty hinged traps waiting this long time to be oiled and set to catch something in the night, was the visible imprint of the past we were rooted in. (70) show less