This is a story about two marriages. Or is it? It begins with a wedding, held in the small San Francisco forest of Bottle Grove, bestowed by a wealthy patron for the public good, back when people did such things.
Here is a cross section of lives, a stretch of urban green where ritzy guests, lustful teenagers, drunken revellers, and forest creatures all wait for the sun to go down. The girl in the corner slugging vodka from a cough-syrup bottle is Padgett, she’s keeping something secreted in the woods. The couple at the altar are the Nickels, the bride is emphatic about changing her name, as there is plenty about her old life she is ready to forget.
Set in San Francisco as the tech-boom is exploding, Bottle Grove is a sexy, skewering dark comedy about two unions, one forged of love and the other of greed, and about the forces that can drive couples together, into dependence, and then into sinister, even supernatural realms.
Add one ominous shape-shifter to the mix, and you get a delightful and strange spectacle: a story of scheming and yearning and foibles and love and what we end up doing for it, and everyone has a secret. Looming over it all is the income disparity between San Francisco’s tech community and . . . everyone else.
- Cat. No.