"The Fever Tree" (Amy Einhorn Books/Putnam), by Jennifer McVeigh
Jennifer McVeigh's first novel, "The Fever Tree," is a lovely
one. It's lovely in the way of a beach sunset or a spring day or
a rest under a shady tree with a glass of lemonade.  It's the
story of Frances, who's forced to abandon her upper-class life
in late 19th-century England after her father dies. Left with no
viable means of support, Frances travels to South Africa to
marry Edwin, an old family friend and physician.  At one point,
Frances rages: "I can pin my hair in five different styles; I
can paint, embroider, and play the piano; but what else can I
do?"  Sound familiar?  It's all quite accessible and
tremendously appealing—like that lemonade or sunset.  McVeigh's
story line isn't new or compelling, but for some reason, "The
Fever Tree" is a page turner. Her prose is well put-together,
like a woman who's aging gracefully. The South African landscape
is vivid, but her characters aren't particularly deep or
complicated. Nor is the plot.