Elitism, at what cost? (Upper East Side, Manhattan, present-day): New York City is a state of mind.
It’s the state of minds of seven Mommy characters (professionals, singles, SAHMs/stay-at-homes) that drive Elizabeth Topp’s acutely perceptive second novel, City People.
Turning the reader into a psychological detective, you’ll find yourself combing the electric prose for the subtler emotional clues that lurk beneath the façade of upper-class perfectionism – looking the part, hiding truths, ignoring, repressing, denying them – all for the all-mighty, insanely competitive, coveted world of private school admissions as the ticket to a guaranteed future of “wealth, power, prestige” when one of the Mommies commits suicide, leaving her two young children, ages five and two, behind, along with her husband.
Two plot points, one unfolding infecting the other. Some Moms more than others. Their reactions – or not – reveal their pasts, secrets, agendas.
The fact that Susan was a psychologist emphasizes how difficult it can be to recognize the warning signs that someone you know is in crisis.
Susan’s husband, aware of his wife’s history of mental illness, isn’t the focus. It’s the other six women through proximity of their preschool age children attending the same elite private school, and all competing for a slot for their child to be admitted into the next step in climbing the educational ladder of privilege: entry into one of the most elite K-12 private schools in New York City. Fictionally named Kent; in real life The Dalton School where Topp graduated from.
Topp has taken to heart the write-what-you- know canon. Using it deliciously, voyeuristically to give us an inside scoop into a rarified world most of us haven’t been privy to. She’s lived on the Upper East Side her entire life in the same pre-war apartment, and, as noted, draws from her real-life experiences of attending The Dalton School that she projects onto Vic, who thinks it’s the most elitist school in the world. Depending on which rankings you look at, it’s in the top tier in New York City. Topp through Vic makes it clear the school has changed a lot since she went there. The reason Kent seems inspired by Dalton and not another top NYC private school is inclusion of its “anti-racist curriculum.” Founded in the early 1900s on progressive values of Equity and Diversity, today it boasts its inclusiveness. Tuition costs of over $61,000 a year; “over 20%” receive financial aid.
One of the truths made clear early on is that these women weren’t really friends with Susan, even Vic who thought she was. Readers who are mothers can relate to how they may or may not have become friends with their children’s school playmates. For two of the mothers – high-powered corporate types and women of color, race and ethnicity become an issue. One of the many reasons Topp’s exposé reveals an underbelly of resentment, anger, and rage despite acting like all is well.
All is definitely not well. How could it be when Susan tells us in a one-page prologue she’s finally at peace having decided her children will be better off without her? How does someone come to conclude they’re a burden to their children? It’s one of the signs of suicide, shown in this video by a suicide prevention group, bethe1.com, Topp recommends, among other resources:
The skillful unraveling begins with Vic, who’s shocked to hear Susan’s died. The next Mom’s voice is Kara, who barely knew Susan and yet she immediately grasps the unstated cause of death. Why doesn’t Vic? Topp silences her voice for a while, cleverly using the structure of her rotating-character-voices novel to reflect why. When Viv realizes Kara was right from the start, she must confront how good a friend was she? Her self-doubt expands, deepens to the core of her identity. How could a four-time novelist fail at the very thing she prides herself on: understanding characters?
Topp’s uncanny juggling of the psyches of seven women is another strength. Perhaps she became a pro at multi-tasking through her other occupation as a personal assistant to one of the city’s major philanthropists. Aren’t you dying-to-know more about another opaque world that inspired her debut novel, Perfectly Impossible? Count me in as I rushed to buy a copy. Yes, City People is that stirring.
Topp could be a psychologist. Better yet, she’s an incisive social and cultural commentator, astutely attuned to people’s hidden emotions.
An interesting, realistic element – a transit strike – makes its way through these women’s stories, impacting how they handle the madness of the private school admissions process when one of their group has perhaps warned them in a horrific way:
- Vic: the so-called good friend. Struggling with writer’s block and how she’d pay for Kent, if her daughter was accepted since she’s separated and faking that she doesn’t need any help.
- Kara: the outsider from the Midwest pretending to be one of them. For the hoops she jumps through, the obsession she descends into, the aloneness she’s left to deal with over three-crazed weeks, she’s the character you’ll likely empathize with the most.
- Chandice: the former corporate lawyer going through a medical crisis. Hits the right buttons when it comes to being a strong Black women who feels patronized by and not sold on Kent’s diversity commitment. Recent race eruptions at The Dalton School add fuel to controversial fictional realities.
- Amy: the mysteriously guarded single mother. With family ties to Taiwan, she has a lot at stake to prove herself despite the incredible wealth she already has.
- Penelope: the most scrupulous. Has more “access to privileged information” than the others, which we don’t appreciate until we do. Addicted to an anti-anxiety drug enabling her to project perfect coolness along with her perfectly put together designer outfits.
- Bhavana: has made a career on beauty. From India, she’s taken her mother’s village impoverishment to the ultimate extreme, wanting the “best of everything.” Long-term user of people for personal gain.
Provocative, City People leaves you asking more questions than you started with.
Do you have a special friend? Does she/he pick up on your moods, show they care? Do you consider yourself a good friend?
Do you know or wonder what it’s like to be a Mom always on edge, always assuming “worst-case scenarios” that keep you in a constant state of depleting, free-floating anxiety?
Do you believe a private school education is superior to a public one? If yes, would you go so far as to shelve your true self, lose your identity, so your child could join the elitists? How do you think that might gnaw at your state of mind?
“Grief is a cruel kind of education. You learn how ungentle mourning can be, how full of anger,” writes award-winning writer, essayist, feminist, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie in her 2021 Notes on Grief.
How ungentle the lives of these seven women are. Desperate to have it all, tearing them down. Was it worth it? Topp’s message.
Lorraine