The book got off to a great start, but then I was confused because the narrator changed, and I didn't realize it. Okay, fine. But then after the first part, where there were four narrators, there were different narrators. I know it doesn't say much about my literary intellect, but I was done at that point. I had cared about the two of the first four, but then couldn't get into the next batch.
It's disappointing, because this is the kind of story I generally love--young women trying to bridge two cultures, and there's evocative imagery, like a grandmother who is said to be conservative like a girdle and "Words like hair sneak out from beneath her proper head scarf and hint at grief that was pickled so long ago." Pickled grief!