The main ingredient in The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake is loneliness, longing and denial; with a pinch of suppression.

From the age of nine, Rose Edelstein could taste emotions in whatever she ate. When her mother baked a trial-run lemon birthday cake, Rose could taste the emptiness and frustration.

Although they seemed normal enough, the Edelstein family was anything but. From her somewhat-detached lawyer father, her loner-genius brother, Joseph and her perpetually-bored creatively-inclined mother, Rose is more of an observer than a participant; always looking in, but never really being seen.

When she turns 12, Rose tastes illicit love and adultery in her mother's roast beef. While Rose’s mother runs "errands" each night, Rose observes her oblivious father; confused by his ignorance of the obvious. Meanwhile, Joseph continues to withdraw more and more, making himself literally and figuratively invisible.

As Rose narrates the story from age nine to adulthood, she is aware of her family’s emotional turmoil, despite their firm insistence to the contrary. Through the years, Rose cultivates her own emotional void, as she watches her family disintegrate.

Bender’s prose may seem to lack in action, but in actuality, the consistent inaction is the action. Lemon Cake isn’t a gripping page turner, but turn the pages you will. Bender quickly draws in the reader, giving them the full effect of a seemingly infinite sadness. Then, just when you think you’ve had enough, there are no more pages.

You sit for a moment pondering. There is stealth subtleness in the impact and a slight brilliance in its simplicity. You many not be completely sure of what you just read, you’re just glad that you did.
-----------------------------------
Hardcover: 304 pages
Publisher: Doubleday; 1 edition (June 1, 2010)
ISBN-13: 978-0385501125