by Joanna Trollope
Sex, betrayal, a woman scorned—what could be juicier? Trollope, a well-regarded British novelist (and descendant of Anthony Trollope), gives this age-old drama a fanciful spin: Here the abandoned wife is a controlling shrew and her soon-to-be ex-husband is both good-hearted and put-upon. So why is Mistress about as exciting as a bowl of oatmeal? Perhaps because the young mistress, whom we are meant to root for, is so utterly self-absorbed or because all the characters are so flimsily drawn that we resist their colorless inner lives. Trollope has used her abundant skills to turn a spicy subject into excruciatingly bland fare. (Viking, $23.95)
Bottom Line: Ho hum
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