This is what happens to bad little trees. They get chopped up and turned into shitty fiction and phone books.
Here's my theory...Jodi Picoult read The Book Thief and realized how great the story is and decided to try and cash in on Holocaust fiction, she wrote this abomination.
I hated this book from start to finish with the fire of a thousand suns, so much so that it required a list of all the awful parts.
Reasons why this book sucks out loud:
- implying that only people of Jewish exraction should be offended by Nazi uniforms
- the names...Sage, Pepper, Saffron
- the hippie who only speaks in Haiku
- Jodi Picoult thinking that she's going to score points with readers by "teaching" us about the Holocaust
- New Hampshire being a good place to hide if you're a Nazi (WTF?!)
- Sage reads like a bratty teenager with a serious case of butthurt even though she's supposed to be 25
- the incessant pop culture references and name dropping
- the vampire story within the book was beyond absurd
- the ridiculous and completely unbelievable and unnecessary love story between Sage and Mr. FBI detective
- the book reading more like a book report
- the usual cop-out ending that you could see coming a mile away
- all the baking details
- not one likeable character, nor any character development.
I think Jodi Picoult forgets that not all of us are a bunch of troglodytes and learned about the Holocaust in school. And if I really wanted to learn more about it, she would be the last author I would turn to. Her books are formulaic crap, this one reading a lot like My Sister's Keeper. This is absolutely the last book of her's I will ever read. For whatever reason, women seem to looooooove her even though all her books are the same. She could probably write a book about dishtowels and her lemmings would still bow at her feet.
Oh, and real bakers don't keep spreadsheets of their ingredients. Trust me, I married a pastry chef who called shenanigans when I asked him baking questions while reading.