Judging a book by its title

They say you can't judge a book by its cover, but I judged The Boston Girl by its title.

I admit that city is part of my soul. And I love seeing in print the streets and buildings I know. Even when I lived there if I were reading a Spenser novel and Parker mentioned the Indian in front of the Museum of Fine Arts, I'd get a shiver even if I had walked by the statue just an hour before.

Thus when I saw the book reviewed on Facebook and mentioned it to Rick, he downloaded it on my Kindle. I started it yesterday and finished it this morning, reading in bed while he slept beside me.

Reading a Kindle in bed is not unlike a kid reading with a flashlight under the covers.

Of course it was wonderful reading about the North End, the State House, Tremont Street, Roxbury even Rockport on the North Shore, but if the book had been set in another city, one where I'd never been, I'd have enjoyed it.

An 85-year old woman talks to her granddaughter about her life capturing not only the social history of the time but all the machinations of family life regardless of ethnicity. The author, Anita Diamant also reveals a major truth that is as much a part of my DNA as Boston--women's friendships give you the color, music and beauty to your life as much as any painting, symphony or sunlit countryside.