Book Review: Cleaving

Remember when I read Julie & Julia and really enjoyed it?  And a lot of comments made reference to the book's sequel, Cleaving?  After hearing so much about the surprise commentary provided in the sequel, I was really curious about exactly how inflammatory the book was.  So when I saw it on my office's communal bookshelf, I couldn't resist the urge to pick it up.

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The book centers on Powell's butchery apprenticeship.  I found the entire concept to be a bit of a stretch.  Not the fact that she had an apprenticeship and learning new culinary skills.  Rather, the fact that each chapter would describe the cut of meat she was practicing (usually in great, great detail, to the point where I could skip entire paragraphs because I both couldn't visualize and didn't care to visualize what she was describing), and the attributes of that piece of meat somehow paralleled a component of her current life.  I don't know.  Maybe it's because I'm not a master with a knife, but never once have I had an argument with Billy that left me comparing it to a culinary experience.  It was all very contrived and artificial, and, truthfully, I couldn't wait for it to be done.
I had heard that much of the book dealt with her crumbling marriage and infidelity (it's discussed right away in the book, so that's hardly a spoiler for you), but I was still surprised at how straightforward she is when discussing her affair and her distancing from her husband.  Frankly, the nonchalance with which she discusses the whole scenario is really off-putting.  I'm married, yes, but I wouldn't label myself a champion of the institution of marriage, defending it on principle until my dying breath.  Still, I felt personally offended, on some level, reading what sounded like delicious enjoyment that came out of breaking her marriage vow, and how little regret she had about it all.
All of that being said, even between the disturbing marriage confessions and the disturbingly detailed animal carcass descriptions, I still found myself identifying with Powell.  Maybe it's because she embodies some sort of 20s/30s existential crisis that I feel like a lot of people in my age group can relate to.  Maybe it's because she was able to identify what she wanted out of her fledgling culinary career and actually went out an procured it.  Maybe it's because she managed to be very honest about the difficulties she faced in every part of her life.  Regardless of why, there were passages where I couldn't help but get sucked in and feel like Powell was speaking a shared language with me.

I don't think I would recommend this book to a friend, as it blended a hearty dose of so-so writing, annoying detail, and confessions about hurting others without much in the way of remorse.  I was definitely glad to turn the last page on this one and move on to greener literary pastures.  And hopefully those pastures aren't filled with cows being butchered and carved up in a nauseating amount of detail.
What was the last book you read that you wouldn't recommend to a friend?