There was no difficulty for me to relate to this memoir. I spent three years in New Haven, where it is sited, with a Jewish instructor and a Jewish collègue, and have played bridge poorly for more than 35 years. And it covers in part the time that I was there. Many locations were familiar to me.
The bridge ladies are a longstanding group of entirely Jewish ladies who have been playing at various levels for 50 years or more. Their story is related by the admittedly bipolar daughter of one of them who belatedly took up the game in part to try to understand the complex psychology of the group, who are of diverse backgrounds, eschew any real expression of affection, and seemingly have little in common except their Jewishness and their love of the game.
This book reads like a novel but is based on real experiences of the author. In places, it becomes difficult to keep the characters straight, and it is a good introduction into the Jewish mindset. sobering to hear of the deaths of mostly domineering husbands, and the loss of independence of the bridge ladies as they face the prospect of moving to assisted living facilities. That prospect also scares me as I approach my 80th birthday.
I am not sure how easy it would be to understand this memoir for someone who has never played bridge, but the simple explanations of the rules, etiquette and complexity of the game should still make it enjoyable.
The love/hate conflicted relationship between the author and her mother is a recurring theme of this memoir.
The author’s anxiety and deep constant introspection detract from the book in my opinion.
T
4.2/5
Thanks, Rhynda and Vera.
The Passionate Reader 
Nice post 🎸🙏
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