When high profile abortion doctor Diana Duprey is found dead in her home, at first it seems to be a simple accident; until, that is, the police find suspicious bruises on her body, and the case becomes that of a murder.
The book is told in third person, and focuses on a number of characters; significantly, the titular abortionist's daughter, Megan, Diana's husband Frank, and the police officers assigned to the case. It's a small town, and the various relationships that exist or begin between these characters effect the book and the situation in a myriad of ways.
One of the things I found most fascinating about The Abortionist's Daughter was the way in which so many themes are intertwined. At first, the main theme seems to be that of the relationship between mother and daughter, and this does remain relatively important throughout the book. But then, the themes which seemed merely subliminal at first subtly grow throughout the novel, and in a classic case of distracted attention, something the reader was only vaguely aware of seeps into ones consciousness and becomes the focal point of the novel.
However, this leads to a slight flaw; once the reader is aware of the true situation, and the story has become somewhat settled, it seems to be over too quickly.
It also leads to an interesting effect; normally, it is easy to say what a novel's about, but, in this case, it's far more difficult to articulate it so simply. One could say it's a novel about abortion, and that would be right, but it's hardly the full story. One reader could see it as being about the effects of keeping things from one's family, or about the problems with a lack of communication, even for the best reasons, and that would be right too. For me, the most important theme is that of obsession, and the dangers of it, although that isn't developed enough in comparison to other issues that one could claim it is the main feature of the book. The novel feels surprisingly fluid, and allows the reader to see in it what they will. That's an unusual effect in many novels, although the coming of age genre embodies it somewhat, and it's an interesting sensation. There are so many threads of plot, and so many ideas, and one cannot name which of them is the main strand, as each contribution is equally important.
It would be possible to draw themes of the law as relating to the protection of woman from the book – particularly the laws related to stalking, something which still isn't seen as a major problem in many parts of the world - but that would involve putting more stress than the author designed on those elements. The book isn't preachy, and if it aims to make a point, it does so with perfect delicacy. It's a story which shows a situation, not a moralistic tale.
The characters are likeable, for the most part, although none of them seem to be fully developed. It's not that they're two dimensional – more that there seems to be more to them than is displayed in the book. On the whole, this is more of a positive effect than a negative one; it feels like the reader is allowed a window into another life, and that there's more going on behind the scenes. Like the characters exist for more reasons than simply to walk on and off the page when it's convenient for the plot.
Terry Pratchett achieved something similar with his Discworld series, particularly the city of Ankh Morpork, which in many ways, seems like a real city, with people who would continue to exist and need feeding with or without the main characters getting on with the plot. The Abortionist's Daughter has a very adult feel compared to the Discworld books, however, which is not the say that the aforementioned series is childish. It's more that any book with the word "abortion" in the title has an odds-on chance of being particularly grotesque, as the subject itself is. The somewhat graphic descriptions are indeed slightly disturbing, although fortunately, they are relatively sparse throughout the novel, and are, for the most part, necessary to the plot.
The book doesn't really present a balanced argument of the pro-life/pro-choice debate, which isn't a bad thing. There are a number of situations showcased, and characters make different decisions; abortion is never an easy or comfortable decision, or even operation, and it's dealt with sensitively, yet without flinching away from the realness of it. The author expresses, through the characters, an opinion which I agree with as a solid pro-choicer, and for the pro-life campaigners, I respectfully suggest that this book isn't for you.
The book is told in third person, and focuses on a number of characters; significantly, the titular abortionist's daughter, Megan, Diana's husband Frank, and the police officers assigned to the case. It's a small town, and the various relationships that exist or begin between these characters effect the book and the situation in a myriad of ways.
One of the things I found most fascinating about The Abortionist's Daughter was the way in which so many themes are intertwined. At first, the main theme seems to be that of the relationship between mother and daughter, and this does remain relatively important throughout the book. But then, the themes which seemed merely subliminal at first subtly grow throughout the novel, and in a classic case of distracted attention, something the reader was only vaguely aware of seeps into ones consciousness and becomes the focal point of the novel.
However, this leads to a slight flaw; once the reader is aware of the true situation, and the story has become somewhat settled, it seems to be over too quickly.
It also leads to an interesting effect; normally, it is easy to say what a novel's about, but, in this case, it's far more difficult to articulate it so simply. One could say it's a novel about abortion, and that would be right, but it's hardly the full story. One reader could see it as being about the effects of keeping things from one's family, or about the problems with a lack of communication, even for the best reasons, and that would be right too. For me, the most important theme is that of obsession, and the dangers of it, although that isn't developed enough in comparison to other issues that one could claim it is the main feature of the book. The novel feels surprisingly fluid, and allows the reader to see in it what they will. That's an unusual effect in many novels, although the coming of age genre embodies it somewhat, and it's an interesting sensation. There are so many threads of plot, and so many ideas, and one cannot name which of them is the main strand, as each contribution is equally important.
It would be possible to draw themes of the law as relating to the protection of woman from the book – particularly the laws related to stalking, something which still isn't seen as a major problem in many parts of the world - but that would involve putting more stress than the author designed on those elements. The book isn't preachy, and if it aims to make a point, it does so with perfect delicacy. It's a story which shows a situation, not a moralistic tale.
The characters are likeable, for the most part, although none of them seem to be fully developed. It's not that they're two dimensional – more that there seems to be more to them than is displayed in the book. On the whole, this is more of a positive effect than a negative one; it feels like the reader is allowed a window into another life, and that there's more going on behind the scenes. Like the characters exist for more reasons than simply to walk on and off the page when it's convenient for the plot.
Terry Pratchett achieved something similar with his Discworld series, particularly the city of Ankh Morpork, which in many ways, seems like a real city, with people who would continue to exist and need feeding with or without the main characters getting on with the plot. The Abortionist's Daughter has a very adult feel compared to the Discworld books, however, which is not the say that the aforementioned series is childish. It's more that any book with the word "abortion" in the title has an odds-on chance of being particularly grotesque, as the subject itself is. The somewhat graphic descriptions are indeed slightly disturbing, although fortunately, they are relatively sparse throughout the novel, and are, for the most part, necessary to the plot.
The book doesn't really present a balanced argument of the pro-life/pro-choice debate, which isn't a bad thing. There are a number of situations showcased, and characters make different decisions; abortion is never an easy or comfortable decision, or even operation, and it's dealt with sensitively, yet without flinching away from the realness of it. The author expresses, through the characters, an opinion which I agree with as a solid pro-choicer, and for the pro-life campaigners, I respectfully suggest that this book isn't for you.
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