Barnes & Noble Discover Great New Writers
We have a confession to make. At the Discover program, we have a rule against "discovering" an author twice. But somehow, when it came to Kim Edwards's first novel, literary amnesia set in and we promptly forgot that eight years ago, we'd discovered her debut short-story collection, The Secrets of a Fire King. A Freudian slip? Perhaps, as her new book is all about memory…

"Photography is all about secrets," says David Henry. "The secrets we all have and will never tell." The price we pay for such secrets is what drives the action Edwards's wholly absorbing novel. It opens during a snowstorm in 1962, when David's young wife, Norah, goes into labor prematurely. When the storm prevents her obstetrician from attending the birth, David and his nurse, Caroline, must handle it themselves. Caroline puts Norah to sleep -- a standard practice then -- and David delivers an unanticipated set of twins. The baby boy is healthy; the second child, a baby girl, has Down syndrome.

Haunted by the memory of growing up with a chronically ill sister, David makes a split-second decision. He asks Caroline to take his infant daughter to an institution, and when Norah wakes, he tells her that the second child was stillborn. The right decision? Clearly not, yet David fervently believes he's chosen the best course of action. But his decision has a ripple effect that will last throughout his life, touching the lives of others.

A graduate of the Iowa Writers' Workshop, Edwards has written a novel both delightful and sad. Spanning 25 years, The Memory Keeper's Daughter carries the powerful message that regardless of what we do, our past never stops haunting our future. (Fall 2005 Selection)

Edwards's assured but schematic debut novel (after her collection, The Secrets of a Fire King) hinges on the birth of fraternal twins, a healthy boy and a girl with Down syndrome, resulting in the father's disavowal of his newborn daughter. A snowstorm immobilizes Lexington, Ky., in 1964, and when young Norah Henry goes into labor, her husband, orthopedic surgeon Dr. David Henry, must deliver their babies himself, aided only by a nurse. Seeing his daughter's handicap, he instructs the nurse, Caroline Gill, to take her to a home and later tells Norah, who was drugged during labor, that their son Paul's twin died at birth. Instead of institutionalizing Phoebe, Caroline absconds with her to Pittsburgh. David's deception becomes the defining moment of the main characters' lives, and Phoebe's absence corrodes her birth family's core over the course of the next 25 years. David's undetected lie warps his marriage; he grapples with guilt; Norah mourns her lost child; and Paul not only deals with his parents' icy relationship but with his own yearnings for his sister as well. Though the impact of Phoebe's loss makes sense, Edwards's redundant handling of the trope robs it of credibility. This neatly structured story is a little too moist with compassion. Agent, Geri Thoma. (July) Copyright 2005 Reed Business Information.

This is a haunting, tragic, and distressing family tale, an enthralling page-turner primarily because it centers on an abysmal act by one individual that affects everyone for whom he cares. David Henry leads the perfect life; he's an orthopedic surgeon married to a wonderful, beautiful woman. It is 1964, and there's a terrible snowstorm in Lexington, KY, when his wife goes into labor. The bad weather keeps Norah's ob/gyn from making it to the hospital, so her husband, along with his nurse, Caroline Gill, decides to deliver the baby in his clinic. Under sedation, Norah gives birth to a healthy boy. As David is thrilled by the birth of his son, Norah starts to have more contractions. He quickly sedates her again, and she gives birth to a girl with Down syndrome. Wanting to protect Norah and feeling she would not be able to cope with a mentally challenged child, David gives the baby to Caroline and asks her to place her in an institution and never reveal their secret. The novel, read by Martha Plimpton, is told through different characters' points of view, moving from one person's thoughts to another, always keeping the secret at the center of the story. The Memory Keeper's Daughter, while ultimately hopeful, tells much of the dark side of human understanding and relationships. Recommended.-Carol Stern, Glen Cove P.L., NY Copyright 2006 Reed Business Information.

One well-intentioned lie causes deep fissures in a family. David Henry had a hard childhood in West Virginia. His family was dirt poor and his sister June, always sickly, died of a heart defect at 12. Vowing to do good, David left home to become an orthopedic surgeon in Lexington, Ky. He's 33 when he meets Norah Asher in a department store. The year is 1964, and it's love at first sight. David delivers his and Norah's own twins-a boy (Paul) who's fine, and a girl (Phoebe) who is damaged with Down's syndrome. Hoping to spare her the pain he underwent with his sister, David tells Norah that the girl is stillborn and instructs his nurse, Caroline, to deliver the infant to an institution. Secretly in love with David, Caroline, who is shocked by his subterfuge and shocked again by the grim shelter, decides to move away and raise Phoebe on her own. Over the next 25 years, parallel stories unfold. In Lexington, the loss of the supposedly dead baby corrodes David and Norah's marriage. Neither they nor son Paul can be warmed by life together, each keeping busy with pet projects. In Pittsburgh, meanwhile, Caroline lands on her feet, securing a good job and a good man, and raising Phoebe with a fierce devotion. Unfortunately, after its fast and sure-footed start, the story sags: Edwards insists heavy-handedly on the consequences of David's lie but fails to deliver any true catharsis, and when David does confess, it's not to Norah. Visiting his childhood home, he is surprised by a squatter, a pregnant runaway of 16 who ties him up-and his story tumbles out. It's a bold scene, rekindling the excitement of the start yet remaining a solitary flash in a humdrum progression. When the family finally learnsthe truth, the impact is minimal. First-novelist Edwards (stories: The Secrets of a Fire King, 1997) excels at celebrating a quiet wholesomeness but stumbles over her storyline.

Edwards is a born novelist....The Memory Keeper’s Daughter is rich with psychological detail and the nuances of human connection. [An] extraordinary debut.”
–Chicago Tribune

“Anyone would be struck by the extraordinary power and sympathy of The Memory Keeper’s Daughter.”
–The Washington Post
 
“Absolutely mesmerizing.”
–Sue Monk Kidd
 
“Kim Edwards has created a tale of regret and redemption... you have to reread the passages just to be captivated all over again . . .  simply a beautiful book.”
–Jodi Picoult
 
“Kim Edwards writes with great wisdom and compassion.... This is a wonderful, heartbreaking, heart-healing novel.”
–Luanne Rice
 
“A heart-wrenching book, by turns light and dark, literary and suspenseful.”
–Library Journal 
 
“A gripping novel, beautifully written.”
–Ursula Hegi
 “Gripping from its start. Highly accomplished.”
–The Guardian (UK)
 
“A remarkable achievement. [Kim Edwards has] clearly hit a nerve.”
–The Independent (UK)
 
“Masterfully written…a compelling story that explores universal themes: the secrets we harbor, even from those we love; our ability to rationalize all manner of lies; and our fear that there will always be something unknowable about the people we love most.”
–The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette
 
 “I devoured it.”
–Sena Jeter Naslund

Few audiobooks cry out for abridgment as much as this one. The premise of Edwards’s second novel is loaded with possibilities—a woman gives birth to twins, one of whom has Down’s syndrome. The doctor, her husband, makes a quick decision—give the child away and say it was born dead. But Edwards’s focus on the minutiae of everyday life from this point on is repetitive at best, pontificating at worst. Narrator Ilyana Kadushin does her best to help listeners see these characters’ quirks—altering her tone to convey sympathy, fear, frustration, and the potent conflict between child and parent. Still, their stereotypical aspects are what stand out. Only the disabled Phoebe comes through distinctly. R.R. © AudioFile 2007, Portland, Maine