My
late husband had done things I didn’t like to think about. True, he’d been an
upstanding
member of the community. True, he’d been a good provider. True, he’d
adored
our daughter. But Henry’s faults as a husband outweighed the good.
He’d
cheated on me with friends. He’d cheated on me with strangers. He’d
cheated
on me with women who carried handcuffs and whips.
To
say our marriage wasn’t in the greatest shape before I did the
unforgivable
was an understatement.
My
unforgiveable sin?
I
earned more money than he did.
Julie Mulhern,
Telephone Line, Kindle Loc. 484
A killer is calling,
and Ellison’s life is on the line.
Ellison Russell is planning the event of the season—and she’s stressed. Why not
yoga?
Because the yoga instructor gets murdered during class—and Ellison’s stress
level rises exponentially. Now, in addition to raising a ridiculous amount of
money, she’s babysitting a deranged cat (named after the devil himself), taking
ten million phone calls (most of them from Mother), and finding more bodies
(they’re popping up like dandelions after a spring rain).
There’s no such thing as balance when the killer makes it personal. Can Ellison
catch a murderer or will her next namaste be her last?
Julie Mulhern’s
writing in The Country Club Murders has been compared to the Gilmore Girls, the
old TV show near and dear to many of us with daughters. Why? Because of the
close relationship of her main character, Ellison Russell, and her daughter,
Grace. And Ellison’s adversarial relationship with her mother. But at times
each merge into one character, much to all of their dismays. We all want to be
ourselves, not comparable to our mothers. We want to be a better version of our
mothers. But then, there are times when no one is better than our mothers, very
smart and strong, and sometimes they forget themselves. For example:
“We both stared at the phone.
Neither of us made a single move to pick up the receiver.
Brnng, brnng.
“You’re the adult.”[Grace said]
She had a point.” Kindle
Loc. 3979
I’m ashamed to say, this reminds me of when my young
daughter disposed of a dead mouse in our house that I just couldn’t deal with. Thank
you, Audrey!
Please welcome Julie Mulhern back to WWK! E. B. Davis
Henry, Ellison’s late husband, was a blackmailer for the
thrill of control and power. Ellison found his blackmail files after his death.
Why didn’t she destroy them?
Ellison
discovered the files in the summer when building a fire and burning their
contents wasn’t an option. Later, she put them out of her mind—after all, she’s
been BUSY finding bodies.
After Ellison identifies a murdered yoga instructor at the
home of her friend Winnie Flournoy, a defense attorney is also found murdered
in his car trunk. Anarchy doesn’t connect the two deaths. But it makes Ellison
wonder. Why?
Ellison has
access to the above-referenced files and knows there’s a connection. Detective
Anarchy Jones doesn’t know about the files or their contents.
One of Grace’s friends goes to a bar and comes home drunk,
but not before she is assaulted and raped. Grace questions her friend’s
innocence. How does Ellison respond?
I don’t think
Grace questions her friend’s innocence. What I do think is people (even
fictional people) have a tendency to believe in karmic scales. If something
awful (cancer, murder, rape) happens there’s a tendency to ask, “What did I do
to deserve this?” That question ignores an uncomfortable truth—life is messy
and random and bad things happen to good people for no reason. In cases of
rape, it’s far too easy to blame the victim (she was drinking, she was dressed
provocatively, she was out too late…). According to the National Sexual
Violence Resource Center, one in five women in the United States will be raped
in their lifetime. Not a single one of them is to blame for what happened to
them.
Jennifer and Marshall are new neighbors from California.
Jennifer helps Grace with her math homework since she majored in math at
Stanford. Jennifer offers to talk with Grace’s friend who was attacked.
Jennifer and her sister-in-law, who killed herself, were also attacked. She
seems so nice, except her cooking stinks. How could Jennifer possibly think her
JellO concoctions are edible? Lettuce, olives, raisins…
There’s a
fascinating article about JellO, its ascendency as a salad item, and social
history. Gelatin began its culinary life as a delicacy so the advent of
refrigeration and instant JellO made it a popular item. Mid-century homemakers
got creative (especially after the introduction of lime JellO). I encourage
everyone to Google 1970s JellO molds—you’ll find recipe cards that suggest
Jennifer’s salad isn’t too far off the mark.
Why does Aggie favor Hunter Tafft instead of Anarchy? Does
Max also favor Hunter?
Ellison’s
housekeeper, Aggie, adores Hunter because her late husband used to work for
him. Max the dog favors anyone who’ll give him treats. Preferably bacon.
Even though she knows better, Ellison still blames herself
for the breakdown of her marriage. Why?
There are so
many ways to answer this question.
First, what
we know and what we feel are often at odds. Guess which one most often wins?
Second,
Ellison’s stories are set in the 1970s and she’s almost 40, which means she was
born in an era (and in a social class) when women kept quiet and looked the
other way. That’s what her mother would have done.
The weight of
familial and societal expectations sits heavily on Ellison’s shoulders.
When Ellison raises one million dollars to match that of
other, larger cities for the museum exhibit, she and Grace celebrate with
chocolate cake. While eating cake, Grace says, “If I was raped, and you murdered
the rapist, it would totally be my fault.” She’d followed my reasoning down the
wrong path.
“Nope. The decision to commit murder would be on me, not
you. But death—even a violent death—would be too easy.” I narrowed my eyes.
“I’d rather let the guy live and make his life miserable.”
“Whoa.”
“What?”
“For a minute there, you looked and sounded exactly like
Granna.”
“Your grandmother has her good points.”
“True. But she can be scary.” Grace shuddered…”
Is there such a thing as a fate worse than death, like
Ellison’s mother?
A fate worse
than death? Absolutely. Is that fate actually Ellison’s mother? Doubtful.
A theme, a
fact, in Telephone Line is that woman
blame themselves for things beyond their control—or at least they used to do
so. It was the old blame the victim game that persists. I remember the phrase,
“She got herself pregnant.” As if a pregnant girl sought out artificial
insemination instead of being raped. Why were the responsibilities and
repercussions always assigned to women? Do you think the “Me, Too” movement is
a result of this skewed legal problem?
Women blame
themselves, women blame each other, and men blame women. Is it any wonder that
women end up with the blame?
I think
#metoo is about the thousands of women who’ve kept silent about rape,
harassment or abuse (many because speaking out might mean the loss of a job
they need to support their families). It is so important for women to speak up
when abuse happens. Legal protections are in place, and speaking up gives the
police an opportunity to investigate when evidence still exists.
Why is Libba so interested in Anarchy’s past, his single
status, and his future?
Libba’s interest
in Anarchy is based on her feelings for Ellison. She doesn’t want to see
Ellison get hurt again.
Ellison and Max outrun a man she thinks is following her.
Is Ellison in really good physical condition? How about Max?
Ellison keeps
fit. She and Max (who’s a Weimaraner) are both runners.
In assault and rape cases, often the trial to prosecute the
perpetrator are more traumatic to the victim than the criminal act because the
defense tries to discredit the victim. Is that still the case?
Recently in Missouri, a lobbyist
attempted to take the teeth out of Title IX legislation. He argued, “women, more than men, regret casual sex, and it is these unsatisfying
sexual unions caused by regret — not rape — that is the real sex problem on
campus.” That argument—she wanted it then she changed her mind—was made in
APRIL. So, yes, discrediting the victim is still a problem.
Ellison is a
dog person. When her friend Winnie asks her to take care of her cat, Beezie,
Ellison doesn’t realize the cat’s nickname is short for Beelzebub, and for good
reason. The cat attacks her friend, Libba. Even Winnie’s kids hate the cat. Why
are people blind to their pet’s behavior? And why didn’t the cat attack the
intruders Winnie had in her home?
True story. I
know a woman who had a Pomeranian who attacked anyone who walked through her
front door. She didn’t see it as a problem (what damage can a Pom do?) When one
of her friends required stitches (apparently those little dogs can do a number
on ankles), she paid the doctor’s bill and did not apologize for her dog. I
have no idea why some people can’t see problems right in front of them—but they
can’t.
As for Beezie
and the intruder, for all we know, Beezie did attack. Since Ellison wasn’t
there to see it, the attack is not in the book.
Are Swanson’s and Woolf’s local Kansas City stores?
Swanson’s and
Woolf’s were beloved Kansas City stores. Sadly, they both closed years ago.
What’s next for Ellison?
Ellison has a
gala coming up. I’m pretty sure something will go disastrously wrong.
