A romantic comedy launched from a child's gutsy reaction to prejudice? That's Elinor Lipman
for you, an author who delights in handling big issues with a light touch, crisp writing, and plenty of humor.
The Inn at Lake Devine opens like so: "It was not complicated, and as my mother pointed out, not even personal: They had a hotel; they didn't want Jews; we were Jews." End of discussion. But thirteen-year-old Natalie Marx was not satisfied. Was this hotel run by Nazis? No, there were no Nazi hotels in Vermont in 1962, just some ignorant people with very bad manners. When Natalie told her father, he joked about trying again under the last name of Gentile. Natalie's parents shrugged it off and found another resort on Lake Devine for their vacation the following summer. Natalie, however, was still not satisfied. Throughout the winter she came up with deliciously sly ways to point out to the Inn's owner, a Mrs. Ingrid Berry, that her rejection of Jewish customers was unfair and illogical. Natalie made prank phone calls, wrote anonymous letters, sent newspaper clippings to make her point with Mrs. Berry.
Summer rolled around and her family stayed across the lake from the Inn. Natalie fumed. Later that summer, when she discovered that Robin, her dull bunk mate at sleepaway camp, went to the Inn every year, she finagled an invitation to go with Robin's family. Ha! Mrs. Berry could not stop Natalie from staying at the Inn after all! Natalie endured Robin's company, confirmed that Mrs. Berry was just as dreadful in person as she was in her correspondence, and rather enjoyed chatting with Mrs. Berry's sixteen-year-old lifeguard son, Nelson. By the end of the week Natalie was ready to put the incident of the Inn behind her and move on with her life.
An invitation to Robin's wedding ten years later would bring Natalie back to the Inn, with plenty of amusing, confusing and maddening complications.
for you, an author who delights in handling big issues with a light touch, crisp writing, and plenty of humor. The Inn at Lake Devine opens like so: "It was not complicated, and as my mother pointed out, not even personal: They had a hotel; they didn't want Jews; we were Jews." End of discussion. But thirteen-year-old Natalie Marx was not satisfied. Was this hotel run by Nazis? No, there were no Nazi hotels in Vermont in 1962, just some ignorant people with very bad manners. When Natalie told her father, he joked about trying again under the last name of Gentile. Natalie's parents shrugged it off and found another resort on Lake Devine for their vacation the following summer. Natalie, however, was still not satisfied. Throughout the winter she came up with deliciously sly ways to point out to the Inn's owner, a Mrs. Ingrid Berry, that her rejection of Jewish customers was unfair and illogical. Natalie made prank phone calls, wrote anonymous letters, sent newspaper clippings to make her point with Mrs. Berry.
Summer rolled around and her family stayed across the lake from the Inn. Natalie fumed. Later that summer, when she discovered that Robin, her dull bunk mate at sleepaway camp, went to the Inn every year, she finagled an invitation to go with Robin's family. Ha! Mrs. Berry could not stop Natalie from staying at the Inn after all! Natalie endured Robin's company, confirmed that Mrs. Berry was just as dreadful in person as she was in her correspondence, and rather enjoyed chatting with Mrs. Berry's sixteen-year-old lifeguard son, Nelson. By the end of the week Natalie was ready to put the incident of the Inn behind her and move on with her life.
An invitation to Robin's wedding ten years later would bring Natalie back to the Inn, with plenty of amusing, confusing and maddening complications.
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