Even at fewer than 150 pages, this book does not exactly zip
along. It takes place over the course of
one day in 1957, and the main character, Kathleen, spends the entire time in
her apartment complex’s swimming pool.
Of course, there is plenty of reflection on her part as to why she’s
lingering in the pool. We also learn
about her husband Virgil’s past, and neither wife nor husband is an ideal
marriage partner. In fact, it’s a wonder
this marriage has not already been dissolved.
Virgil’s father, oddly enough, is the catalyst that may lead to some
soul-baring sharing of past indiscretions.
Now, about the tennis. Kathleen
is a former standout college tennis player who talked herself out of going pro
when she had the opportunity. My
problem, though, is that the tennis terminology used here is messed up,
especially on page 82. Players don’t
volley from the baseline. A volley is a type of shot where the ball is
hit in the air before it bounces, and it is used primarily at the net. Players
rally
from the baseline, meaning that they exchange a series of shots. Maybe the author meant the service line
instead of the baseline, or maybe the players really did volley from the
baseline, meaning that the ball never bounced, but that would be weird. Plus, a slice doesn’t “soar.” It is an underspin shot, so that it moves
slowly. Sorry to get bogged down in
tennis jargon, but this kind of stuff annoys me, just like bad grammar and
misspelled words, neither of which are a problem in this book. The writing here is good, and there’s sort of
a magic word, like “Rosebud” in the movie
Citizen
Kane. Clever.
