Three Cups of Tea

April 28, 2008
What begins as edgy and smart gets stuck in the sand in popular chick lit author Green's (Second Chance
) soggy beach read. Richard and Daff separate after Richard has an affair, which plays havoc with their daughter, Jess. Bee and Daniel, who go to therapy to bridge their emotional gap, wind up facing the uncomfortable truth of what really separates them. Middle-aged Michael keeps finding all the wrong women, and Michael's dotty and endearing mom Nan, facing flagging finances, raises funds by letting rooms in her venerable Nantucket beach home, only to have to ward off ravenous developers. There's enough upheaval to keep the tale humming until the cast lands on Nan's doorstep, where, with unrelenting good humor and wisdom, the troubles with couples, families, kids, singles and sexual identity are predictably resolved before the Labor Day exodus. Unfortunately, the payoffs diminish as the story wears on.

Young adult listeners will hear the author's story of becoming lost while on a climbing expedition and finding himself in a Pakistani village. His promise to build a school becomes reality but not without considerable effort. Through Atossa Leoni's clear and deliberate pacing, the listener will follow Mortenson through a myriad of challenges, including a kidnapping. Through Leoni's patient narration, the genesis and importance of the title becomes clear: In Pakistan the first time you are invited in for tea it is as a stranger, the second as an honored guest, the third as family. Through hard work and devotion, Mortenson becomes family to the people he continues to help. M.B. (c) AudioFile 2009, Portland, Maine


Lost after failing to climb K2, Mortenson was sheltered and nursed in a remote Pakistani village; he promised to return and build them a school. Keeping that promise led to his heading a charitable institute that provides impoverished children in Pakistan and Afghanistan with an education. Though Relin's writing is not top-caliber, Mortenson's story comes through as exciting and inspiring. Patrick Lawlor's voice is neither melodious nor distinguished, but it is likable and serviceable. He tells the story as if Mortenson had told it to him, keeping it lively and engaging. His imitation of voices and accents, loosely rather than precisely mimetic, fits his style. It all works; listeners will begrudge interruptions. W.M. (c) AudioFile 2007, Portland, Maine