The Care and Handling of Roses With Thorns (book review)

If you liked Margaret Dilloway’s debut novel “How To Be An American Housewife”, then “The Care and Handling of Roses With Thorns” will either equate to it or come about halfway. The author’s latest tale is about 36-year old Galilee “Gal” Garner, a high school biology teacher whose failing kidneys force her to live a restricted life. Her one pleasure is her roses, flowers she has cultivated and cross-bred to create a one-of-a-kind grand prize bloom that no one has ever seen or smelled. But when her 15-year old niece Riley shows up at her school one day unannounced, Gal is forced to shift her schedule and her perceptions about family and friends.

The novel has a slow start; interest doesn’t build until Riley comes into the picture. Once she does, the reader is subjected to a predictable story format and hard-nosed Gal becomes softer, less selfish, and more generous with her time.

Despite this, I still found myself immersed in the story and turning pages fast. Dilloway is a talented writer and creates an interesting protagonist in Gal, drawing from her own sister-in-law’s experiences as a three-time recipient of kidney transplants. Where her small and sickly stature fails her, Gal is stalwart in mind, morally upright, and doesn’t suffer fools. Her resilience in the face of her disease is admirable. Riley is as frustrating to the reader as she is to Gal; her sudden mood shifts are the familiar mechanisms of a child who knows the ways in which they are hurting but are confused as to how to voice them. Gal’s friend Dara is a source of amusement with her retro wardrobe and her serial dating (Dilloway described every outfit she wore; I thought it unnecessary). Yard boy and high school senior Brad shows himself to be a rather dubious character, one that truly tests Gal’s ethics. Minor characters end up being as interesting as the major players despite their limited appearances.

The novel’s strongest element is Dilloway’s illustration of the complicated relationships of family through Gal, Riley and Gal’s flighty sister Becky. Resentment is hovering everywhere in these relationships and shows up frequently in the clipped dialogue between them. They don’t mince words, and neither does Dilloway. In fact, the discourse between every character in the book is believable and revealing. In the end, everyone has a chance to grow, and this is the most satisfying part of the book.

Dilloway’s inclusion of rose cultivation is more likely to be of interest to gardening enthusiasts (I learned a few things myself). Readers looking for dramatic literary fiction may find the asides about care and cross-breeding distracting and/or boring.

Those who read and were pleased with Dilloway’s debut novel may see the subject matter of this book as a sophomore slump. They’d do well to overlook it so they may have a chance to enjoy her skills at character development and story evolution. Newcomers to Dilloway could still start with this one – it has the potential to encourage them to seek her other work (it has for me). Recommended.