Louise Douglas
MacMillan
Otago Daily Times, August 15th 2009
Much as I hate to say it, The Love of My Life occupied several hours during which I could have been doing other, more satisfying things. The narrator, Olivia, has known her husband, Luca and his twin brother Marcus since childhood. When Luca is killed in a car crash, she is left to reflect on both the events leading up to their marriage and those that follow his death; actions that cause unintentional but grave damage to all concerned and leave her irrevocably estranged from her husband’s family.
A well-enough written novel about “love, loss and consequences”, it is not in itself bad, merely inconsequential. Yes, we all know that dealing with the loss of a loved one is a slow and painful process, one in which we turn to anybody with whom we can share the pain, even if the outcome is inevitable. We have all read, watched or experienced this in many shapes and forms. This is merely another example, and I finished feeling like I had read it, or something like it, many times before.
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