Girly, Elizabeth Merrick's first novel, tells the story of the Hart sisters' tumultuous childhood and the relationships that shape their personalities. From their early childhood in Pennsylvania with their aloof, absent Father to their later years in California alone with their Born Again mother, Ruth and Racinda develop amidst the strong presences of their mother Amandine and their grandmother Button. Their identity is as much who they are as who they aren't. After years of emotional pain and instability, Ruth finally leaves home, allowing her younger sister to emerge from her shadow and make her own mistakes. Racinda strives to define who she is in the absence of Ruth's violent, destructive outbursts, but the need to connect with her sister never leaves Racinda. Once she has forged her own path as a minor groupie for a band and later, as a self-admitted patient in a mental hospital, she reaches out to reconnect with the women in her family, discovering the truth of her family and the heartache and pain that forged them.

As this is a book about women, it only seems fair that men dominate the minor characters in Girly, acting as catalysts to the action. Ruth and Racinda's emotionally distance Father, Lyman, creates an absence so acute, that his final abandonment of the family goes unnoticed for days. Joey, his band mates, their grandfather Elmer, Michael -- most of the men in the story remain on the periphery, gently nudging the story in one direction. Rudy, hired to help bring Ruth home, comes on slick and manipulative, but even he is no match for Amandine, the apparent weakest of the Hart women. Racinda's friend Max is a beautifully written character who holds the promise of depth and complexity. Merrick's expert touch to hold back on Max proves her complete control over this novel and her characters. This story wasn't his, although it was interesting to learn, via an interview on Gothamist.com, that the novel grew out of a chapter told from Max's perspective.

Jesus, and religion, also have their fair shares of exposure in Girly. Religion, and the all-consuming faith of Born Again Christians, drive Amandine's actions. She discovers her faith and embraces the community with Racinda while Ruth's erratic behavior becomes worse despite her Mother's faith. At times, Merrick's portrayal of Born Again religion is scathing, but peace is made in the end. Amandine, although still prone to speaking in tongues, finds a place where she can accept both her painful past and her religion at the same time.

This story is about women. Three generations of the Hart family experience their own pain, suffering and growth. Women in every stage of their lives are part of this story, and although there are different personalities, aspects of Racinda, Ruth, Button, and Amandine are in every woman. Even Lisa, Racinda's friend who can be wicked and hurtful, has her own story to tell. Racinda learns what she can from Lisa and assimilates it into her future and her life. Button, one of the strongest women in the novel, is the stabilizing force in both Ruth and Racinda's life. When she slips away from them, they slip away from their world. The link to their past was Button, not their mother, and once the matriarch is gone, Racinda, Ruth and Amandine leave for California and their own time.

In a bid for perfection, this epic novel takes its time with not just the story, but the language as well. This is not a book to pick up when you have a few hours on a plane; it is one to dip in and out of, coming back to it when you can't get Racinda or Ruth off your mind. While there is no perfection in the Hart's world, there is an honest beauty that keeps the reader coming back. This character-driven novel explores the role women play in not just supporting one another, but destroying each other as well. Ruth's violence in Girly is a necessary part of the characters it touches, and as with many good "coming of age" stories, it is a catalyst for growth. Merrick has captured a part of the universal female experience that is rare in modern literature with statements like "...I also think, though I partly know it is not true, there would be a sister, a mother, a father, if I were beautiful." She captures the darker, more painful side of femininity from which beauty and strength grow. With a deeply satisfying ending, Racinda finally grows into the strong woman she was meant to become.