There’s Ruth, the oldest, who dreams of getting married Esther, the smart one, “who read books straight through not once but twice because they became like family to her” and Chloe, the baby, who is closest to her mother but also inclined to push the envelope.
Vivian has three grown daughters, who form a popular singing group, The Salvations. It’s 1953, and the book is peppered with glimpses of the racism Vivian hoped to put behind her when she moved: “Memories kept watch against nostalgia,” Sexton writes. Francisville, La., to build a better life for her family in San Francisco’s Fillmore district, where she’s chummy with the beautician, the butcher, the bookstore owner and a fleet of neighbors who moved here looking for a fresh start. Vivian is a Black, widowed nurse who left St. In ON THE ROOFTOP (Ecco, 304 pp., $28.99), Margaret Wilkerson Sexton’s mellifluous third novel, readers have a front-row seat to a timeless drama about a mother with dreams that don’t quite line up with her daughters’ realities. And if you’re a person like my own mother, who would never permit such backchat in her house, mazel tov. If you’re a daughter or a son who bristles at guidance - what I like to call a “suggestion” - you might have uttered these words yourself. If you’re a mother, perhaps you’ve been on the receiving end of this charming statement.
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