The Truth about Dandelions by Hayley Linfield – a Review

Whoa…pretty intense beginning.  A used, discarded condom too close to your face after a night of getting too close to a stranger?  Sadly, it wasn’t an unfamiliar sight to Mara.  The Truth about Dandelions by Hayley Linfield was a dark yet enlightening journey into the life of a troubled soul.  I cringed several times, Mara’s impulse control was so volatile, but prying my eyes was impossible.  The path was set, I followed Mara’s lead and I never got lost.

Raised in the town of Nameless (a suburb of Toronto, Canada – MUST find out if this place is real!), Mara is the only daughter of a Presbyterian minister and her mother, the dutiful wife of a minister.  The spiritual element is so prevalent in Mara’s upbringing; it is the backbone of the story.  We’ve all heard the whispers to be wary of the children of religious leaders; the quiet ones are the most rebellious.  Mara not only epitomizes that stereotype, but she delves into her most personal reflections and memories, and Ms. Linfield gives us her heroine’s gritty truth.

“What a weak, human idea it is to try to indoctrinate a child without giving an explanation, without allowing questions.” 

Mara didn’t mean to follow blindly.  Her parents just didn’t think it was necessary to tell “whole” truths.  Problem with those pesky half-truths is facing those convictions.  Learning about infidelity from your once self-contained mother’s curses (and dish-breaking), about the father you idealized/idolized who is preaching about savior and redemption…well…it just doesn’t foster believability.

Unfortunately, because Mara is really quite an extraordinary woman with intriguing thoughts and a contemplative nature, her past and its influence of negativity, manifests itself into destructive behavior.  While Mara is able to discern 19^th century English literature (working on her thesis no less), and is adept at philosophizing on monogamy and religion, she travels a downward spiral of promiscuity, alcohol abuse and detachment.  A highly-functioning sociopath, if you will.

“How silly of me to feel clever about something so unimportant.  How bizarre that we can be so smart in certain aspects of our lives and so stupid in other ways.  I instinctively know where North is in a strange city and I can analyze the hell out of novels written two hundred years ago, but I can’t manage to put my own insignificant life into any semblance of perspective.”     

Death is another theme running rampant in this book.  We can all relate on some level, but Mara’s experiences are of epic proportions.  Ms. Linfield delivers a sequence of events that leaves little doubt as to the chaos in Mara’s head.  No wonder she hides, no wonder she dwells, no wonder she’s a wreck.  A wreck I say?  Would you believe Mara is involved in a car wreck?  Oddly enough, this fateful wreck brings forth a “reboot” of sorts.  Jack, the driver of the vehicle that strikes Mara, becomes a catalyst for this new perception.  He’s unlike anyone she’s met before, but her obsessive personality is no easy match for his passivity.  When Jack (or practically any other person) showed Mara a modicum of respect or care, she elevated the act to unreal levels.  Mara said one person treated her like a queen, but to any one of us, he was just a decent guy who enjoyed talking to her.  Truth is each exchange was a first; every interaction was unrivaled because no one had ever shown her genuine affection before.  It was maddening to me to hear Mara’s fearful thoughts:  Why isn’t Jack coming on to me?  Why can’t Jack take me to bed?  Oh, there’s a reason, but I won’t spoil it for you.  Jack’s opinion of Mara really matters and you root for her to keep composure.  Don’t mess this up, Mara!!!

As disorderly as Mara may be with her poor judgment, lingering phobias and overanxious conduct, she is a product of her environment and that environment reeked.  I did not anticipate the life-altering consequence Mara faced (I literally covered my eyes like a child while I read a HUGE reveal because my heart feared the reaction) and that may have peeved me.  Was it a necessary evil?  I would have preferred permanent adjustments prior to major commitments.  Vague-speak enough?  There’s no way I’m ruining this for you!   

This is the hardest part about writing reviews:  How much do I disclose to pique the reader’s interest?  If I haven’t accomplished that by now, TRC may be in search of a new contributor.  JK!  Dandelions are considered weeds; the nuisance of any garden.  Mara loves them.  They remind her of a once-happy home, her mom playing Liszt on the piano, her father’s sermon winding down in his best diminuendo.  Best of all, they’re resilient.  It is not an easy read, lots of squirming and exasperation, but an honest and hopeful one simultaneously.    

“Have you been here a while?” I ask, nodding my head at his beer.

“No actually.  Less than ten minutes I’d say.”  He looks at his mostly empty beer bottle and laughs.  “I guess I’m thirsty.  Or maybe nervous.  I was watching for you,” he says, nodding at the view of George Street.  “Don’t know how I missed you.”

“Guess I slipped past you.”

“Yeah, I don’t want that to happen.”

“Me neither,” I say, meeting his eyes.

Awwww…..well done, Ms. Linfield!  I look forward to much more from you.

Reviewed by Carmen

Copy provided by author