A well-behaved middle-aged woman goes rogue.
It’s the headache that sets Clover off that day. Or it’s the terrible way her husband has loaded the dishwasher. Or maybe the expired Vicodin she takes for the headache or the nightmare commute into Bristol from the small English town where she lives. Or the fact that she’s raised twins who are now teenagers or that her awful, negligent mother trained her to always be pleasant and accommodating, so now she does far too much work as a TV producer for far too little money. Whatever the reason, Clover has had enough. She tells her boss off at the morning meeting, sneaks out of the office, and decides she will do whatever she wants today. And what Clover wants is very funny. Or, rather, when anyone tries to get in her way, things become very funny. People are quite confused, it turns out, by a woman who doesn’t care to follow convention. Alternate chapters illustrate the long build-up to Clover’s break. As the narrator, she dances around the sadder bits of her past; those chapters have less momentum, but they do have some heartbreaking reveals. And while inspired by Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (Morrey thanks Ferris in the acknowledgments), this book also explores the potential fallout from Clover’s day-off decisions, which is intriguing. Clover at first seems impervious to both past and future, and she’s devilishly witty about getting away with mischief. As the day winds toward two potential conflicts—one with her mother, one with a predatory work colleague—it appears that she is, in fact, clever enough to consider the larger picture. But not until she has a little more fun.
A romp that’s also grounded.