Little Children by Tom Perrotta
When it comes to understanding the complex intricacies of family life and relationships, few writer’s are as skilled and at ease than Tom Perrotta. By the time Little Children – now a popular movie featuring Patrick Wilson and Kate Winslet – was written, Perrotta had already established himself as a writer with an ability that played as much on the fantastic as the explicitly mundane; canvassing both with the kind of wit and charm that is impossible not to be absorbed by.
In Little Children, the lives of people in a small community mingle with one another in spectacular fashion and we see the highs, the lows and the downright cheeky deviousness of people come to light. These are battles fought in every facet of suburban life, from the bored stay-at-home Dad to the man who is so obsessed with keeping a local sex offender at bay that he has made it his job to drive by his house every day and leave flaming bags of dog poo on his porch. Amongst all that, if you can believe it, is the kind of dry humour which we can all associate with. The result, many are saying, is Perrotta’s best novel yet. I certainly wouldn’t argue with that statement.
Little Children is also an ode to our lives, I think. They may be mundane sometimes, and revolve around our children and our jobs, but at the same time there is real beauty there
What I liked best of all about Little Children was how it managed to be a great mainstream book which conversely also had an edge which many mainstream books seem to lack. For example, while waiting for my local it support services london to hand me back my laptop, I got into a conversation with the guy who always man’s the desk – the guy who is unusually fussy about books (something we have talked about a few times, which is the only good thing about my computer being broken so much…). He spoke of how he had read the book and enjoyed the simple not-too-over-the-top language. Similarly, I’ve heard a few other people say that they breezed through it – the story being so compelling and so mundane that you just can’t fail to associate with the lives of the characters.
In truth, Little Children is also an ode to our lives, I think. They may be mundane sometimes, and revolve around our children and our jobs, but at the same time there is real beauty there which is completely extraordinary. I for once won’t look at a stroll through the park ever again, and I highly doubt you will after reading Little Children.
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