The bestselling author of Before Women Had Wings spins a wild new tale about the strong bonds among a group of friends that loses its quirkiest member, Murmur Lee. Exploring new literary territory while keeping to her native Floridian roots, Fowler is here at her most original and entertaining.
As a new year dawns over the island of Iris Haven, Murmur Lee Harp and her lover, Billy, go for a romantic sail without a care in the world. The evening comes to an abrupt halt when Murmur Lee discovers that she has drowned—but by whose hand?—in the Iris Haven river.
Grief-stricken and haunted by the mysteries surrounding her death, Murmur Lee’s circle of friends sets out to discover what really happened to her, and in the process they learn as much about her failings and triumphs as their own. After years of self-exile in the North, Charlee Mudd returns to set her best friend’s affairs in order, only to confront her own ghosts. Edith Piaf, a former marine whose sex change at the age of sixty-two Murmur Lee supported unquestioningly, must find the confidence to carry on without the encouragement of her friend. Lonely widower Dr. Zachary Klein plummets into the depths of depression at the loss of the second woman he has ever loved. As for Murmur Lee—who lived her entire life on an island named by her great-great grandfather in honor of the Greek goddess who receives the souls of dying women—in death she experiences her own journey as she is plunged into her familial past and discovers the truth about who she really is.
With poignancy and humor Fowler weaves the voices of Murmur and her friends into a compelling narrative. Part family saga, part murder mystery, The Problem with Murmur Lee is Fowler’s most rewarding and engrossing work yet.
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|Title of eBook: The Problem with Murmur Lee|
|Release Date: 03-07-2006|
|Allowed Countries (hover)|
|Publisher: Crown Publishing Group|
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|Parent title||The Problem with...|
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The Problem with Murmur Lee
A Letter from
Murmur Lee Harp
to Charleston Rowena Mudd
July 21, 2001
Here is the swan feather I promised. Be forewarned: This really works. An old celibate man in Jacksonville Beach clued me in. He blames the feather for his incessant faithfulness. By his own admission, he cheated on his wife with all the consistency of a serial killer until his wife threw the feather spell on him. He spent the first decade of his marriage as a philanderer and the last two as a model husband. In fact, he buried her three years ago and remains true. It's sad, really, that this works so well. I mean, the old guy is never going to get laid again in his life.
Anyway, you have to sew the feather into his pillowcase. You can't simply stick it in there. Do you know how to sew anymore? You've been up there so long, I suspect you've forgotten everything our mothers tried to teach us. I can see how that is both helpful and not. For instance, your mother, who was truly a dear woman—you know I loved her—was always insisting that you wear your hair short. That was wrongheaded. You're a knockout when you let those curls kiss your shoulders.
Also, when do I get to meet this Nigerian? Like I said in this morning's E-mail, you CANNOT marry until I have approved. I would give you the same courtesy. Bring him down here and let me meet him while the summer storms still rage. Don't let this get past you. I know you. Once school kicks in, you'll be too busy to even respond to E-mail. So book your flights and I'll pick you up, and you two can have the house all to yourselves.
We're having a bang-up summer, Charlee. Last evening, Dr. Z was still ru