The story behind this book, revealed in authors’ notes, is fascinating: Jennifer Boylan Finney dreamed she was writing a novel with Jodi Picoult and tweeted about her dream the next day. Picoult reached out to Finney, and Mad Honey was conceived. It’s a courtroom drama about a murder trial in which a high school boy is accused of pushing his girlfriend down the stairs in her home. It’s narrated by the mother of the boy, going forward in time, and by the girlfriend/murder victim, going backward in time. The narrative structure was mildly annoying, as was the fact that every social issue under the sun is addressed in the plotline. Domestic violence and an alcoholic father take up the first half of the book. Then midway through, the plot twist drops (and no you did not see that coming) and the story becomes quite educational, unless you’re a Gender, Women, and Sexuality Studies professor, like me, and then it’s just kind of boring since you, like me, guessed the murderer by chapter 4, and it really is one of the most tired murder plots. I wanted to like the book. I love bees and appreciated the scientific breakdown of bee society and labor, plus all the historical stories about how precious (and sometimes dangerous) honey is. But in the end, I disliked the plot because it would not pass the Bechdel test. The strong women characters in the book (and there are several) still just revolve their lives around men and/or lack authentic, mutually fulfilling friendships with other women. Would I recommend the book? Absolutely. Would I re-read? No.
