Nom de Plume

The only thing I dislike about New Yorkers is their conviction that there is nothing west of, well, New York. On the other hand, their civic pride tends to be laudable, so I guess it’s like fractions: the two cancel each other out. Mendelson begins her book with an endless description of this New York neighborhood, and I almost lost patience with it … but was glad I stuck it out.

The story centers around opera singer Charles Braithwaite and his wife Anne, a middle-class couple with two children (and one that makes his debut during the course of the novel) and a group of friends. The Braithewaites live in a co-op they purchased, are fast realizing that they can’t afford the endless building costs of gentrification. Their children go to private schools, have music lessons; Anne doesn’t work, a fact that annoys Charles. Through the novel, they realize that they are going to have to - gasp - leave Manhattan because they are in debt up to their eyeballs.

Then there are the friends, who have on again, off again love affairs. An old women in the building dies, and they all become embroiled in her affairs, because her unscrupulous gaurdian has siphoned money from the account. Money and assets that, according to a hidden will, she has left to Anne.

Okay, there were some unbelievable parts; the male characters were unconvincing, the psychiatrist a caricature. The novel begins with an endless monologue about New York neighborhoods and ends with an endless reflection on the middle class living in those New York neighborhoods.

But essentially, this was a book about the middle class and the things we as a society do to maintain it. This alone makes Morningside Heights interesting, especially living under the Bush administration. Ultimately, the story bowls along–sometimes forced, overintellectualized, didactic–and I enjoyed reading it. Would I recommend? Not unconditionally, but overall yes.