Reviewed by Ambrea
After
her mother died, Emily Benedict arrived in Mullaby, North Carolina, with the
hope of solving some of the riddles that had plagued her for years—and, more
importantly, get to know the grandfather she never knew. But, as she digs deep into the mysteries of
her mother’s adolescence, she discovers that Mullaby is rife with
mysteries: rooms where wallpaper changes
to suit a person’s mood, unexplained lights that appear at midnight, and
magical cakes—like those of Julia Winterson.
Julia,
who has returned to her former hometown, is known and loved for her cakes. She has a magical touch with flour, butter,
milk, eggs, and sugar that seems to enthrall the entire town; however, Julia
doesn’t just bake to keep herself and her father’s business afloat: she bakes to recall the past and, she hopes,
bring back a lost love. She hopes to
leave as soon as she can. Her rocky
relationship with Sawyer aside, Julia wants to leave Mullaby—and her hurtful
past—behind.
But
Mullaby is not what Emily or Julia has come to expect. Together, they will discover a richness and
beauty to Mullaby that they’ve never seen—and a love that they never thought
they would find.
I
actually picked up The Girl Who Chased
the Moon as an audiobook. It’s one
of the first audiobooks I’ve listened to since Hank the Cowdog was considered one of my favorites—back when we
still had a cassette tape player in our car—so it’s rather special to me, since
it revived and heightened my interest in listening to books again. Although I’ve listened to other audiobooks
that I’ve enjoyed a little more than Sarah Addison Allen’s novel (such as Dante and Aristotle Discover the Secrets of
the Universe and Kitchens of the
Great Midwest), I was pleasantly surprised by The Girl Who Chased the Moon.
Like
both Garden Spells and The Sugar Queen, Allen’s novel is filled
with little unexpected joys, everyday magic that jumps out and surprises
you. Like the wallpaper in Emily’s room,
or Sawyer’s “sweet sense,” or the secrets of the Mullaby’s most illustrious family,
or the frogs that hold a special significance for Emily’s grandfather. It’s fascinating to see this magical dynamic
at work in Mullaby, to see how the town accepts and even celebrates some of its
local oddities.
Speaking
of oddities, I found I really liked Julia and her magical ability to bake
delicious cakes. More than any other
character, maybe even more than Emily, Julia held a special place in my
heart. I liked her for her troubled
adolescence and her steely resolve to live her own life, to leave Mullaby
behind once she gets her father’s business and her rocky relationship with
Sawyer settled. She’s essentially
damaged by her past, by a number of bad years in her youth, but she has managed
to heal and reinvent herself and, more importantly, grow into the woman she
wishes to be.
I’m
not saying Julia isn’t flawed, and I’m not saying she isn’t damaged. She isn’t perfect, and I admire her for
overcoming a number of challenges in her life—and yet she still manages to have
hope. That’s why she continues to bake,
why she continues to leave the window open when she’s making her cakes: she has hope for a better future and hope for
reconnecting with someone she thought she’d lost forever. It’s heart-warming and wonderful.
And
I loved it.
I
also thought Rebecca Lowman, who narrated the novel, did a splendid job of
distinguishing between characters and reviving the cadence of a small North
Carolina town. She helped breathe life
into the characters, playing upon the drawl and twang sometimes found in
Appalachia, and she did a wonderful job of pacing the story, allowing it to
unfold naturally. While the story was
sometimes strange—and, sometimes, I didn’t always enjoy the characters Ms.
Lowman played—I found I enjoyed it overall.
It’s a sweet novel with a decent narrator, intriguing (and,
occasionally, baffling) characters, and a beautiful little love story thrown
into the mix.
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