Blessed Are the Cheesemakers (Paperback)

1) The book is supposed to be set in several places: New York City, an island in the South Seas and rural Ireland. However, the author has the characters in all three settings speaking exactly the same way, using exactly the same expressions and idioms. So, for example, the hero - a man who is supposed to be born in New England and living in New York - sounds just like the Irish milkmaid, who sounds just like one of the residents of the Sullivan Islands ... all of whom run around saying things like, "Jaysus, you eejit! Don't give me that bollocks!" Once the action had settled firmly in Ireland, I was less troubled by the fact that everyone sounded Irish.

2) The hero is supposed to be a stockbroker. Although the book contains only one (thankfully short) chapter set in the hero's office, not a single word of it rings true. The author manages to get every detail wrong, from the time the stock market opens to the way stock options are exercised (they are exercised, by the way, not cashed up) to the terminology used by the hero's boss (who describes the hero as part of a "broking team." I've never heard this expression before ... perhaps broking teams exist in New Zealand, the author's home country, but they do not exist in the American financial industry). I've been employed in the financial industry since 1990, so I do know a few things about how a brokerage office works and how industry people sound, and in those areas this book completely misses the mark.

3) The events leading to the hero's abrupt decision to go to Ireland are supposed to have taken place in an incredibly short period - only three months. Perhaps things could happen that quickly elsewhere in the world, but there is no way that the chain of events, whereby the hero loses his wife, is fired from his job and evicted from his home - could happen in New York in less than one year. Kit is supposed to be successful, sophisticated and knowledgeable urbanite, yet he seems to be completely ignorant of the law ... and he never once consults or even thinks of consulting an attorney. Never. Now ... there isn't a single American (let alone a New Yorker) who would sadly watch his or her life turn completely upside down without once saying,"Hey, you can't do this to me! I have rights here! I'm calling my lawyer!" But Kit, the hero of the book, seems to simply shrug his shoulders and accept everything passively. Now ... if the guy is such a passive, helpless, non-confrontational, non-aggressive wuss, how could he have possibly become a successful stockbroker?

Now, I know it is a novel and a certain suspension of disbelief is required, but these things really should have been caught and corrected by any half-way competent editor. So, I don't really blame the author as much as I blame some of the people she praises in her "Acknowledgements" section: Ann Clifford, noted for "her wonderful editing" and Paul Davenport, who "helped me understand the sort of culture Kit might have worked in," either of whom should have caught and corrected these flaws before publication.

Anyway ... if not for the clever title, I'd have passed on this book, but once I started, I kept with it. It really is a rather sweet love story with a touch of sex thrown in, and I imagine that people who tend to enjoy *cheesy* romance novels will enjoy this book.