Genre Fiction
![Melanie Benjamin - [object Object] author](https://res.cloudinary.com/readsomnia/image/upload/authors/a_B002OKJ45G.jpg)
California Golden: A Novel
Two sisters navigate the thrilling, euphoric early days of California surf culture in this dazzling saga of ambition, sacrifice, and the tangled ties between mothers and daughters from the New York Times bestselling author of The Aviator's Wife.
"A shimmering rendering . . . pairs the surf culture of the Beach Boys with the sex, drugs, and rock ‘n' roll of Daisy Jones & The Six."-Entertainment Weekly ("Best Books of the Summer")
Southern California, 1960s: endless sunny days surfing in Malibu, followed by glittering neon nights at Whisky a Go Go. In an era when women are expected to be housewives, Carol Donnelly breaks the mold as a legendary female surfer struggling to compete in a male-dominated sport-and her daughters, Mindy and Ginger, bear the weight of Carol's unconventional lifestyle.
The Donnelly sisters grow up enduring their mother's absence-physically, when she's at the beach, and emotionally, the rare times she's at home. To escape questions about Carol's whereabouts-and to chase her elusive affection-they cut school to spend their days in the surf. From her first time on a board, Mindy is a natural, but Ginger, two years younger, feels out of place in the water.
As they grow up and their lives diverge, Mindy and Ginger's relationship ebbs and flows. Mindy finds herself swept up in celebrity, complete with beachside love affairs, parties at the Playboy Club, and a USO tour in Vietnam. Meanwhile, Ginger, desperate for a community of her own, is tugged into the dangerous counterculture of drugs and cults. But through it all, their sense of duty to each other survives, as the girls are forever connected by the emotional damage they carry from their unorthodox childhood.
A gripping, emotional story set at a time when mothers were expected to be Donna Reed, not Gidget, California Golden is an unforgettable novel about three women living in a society that was shifting as tempestuously as the breaking waves.
"A shimmering rendering . . . pairs the surf culture of the Beach Boys with the sex, drugs, and rock ‘n' roll of Daisy Jones & The Six."-Entertainment Weekly ("Best Books of the Summer")
Southern California, 1960s: endless sunny days surfing in Malibu, followed by glittering neon nights at Whisky a Go Go. In an era when women are expected to be housewives, Carol Donnelly breaks the mold as a legendary female surfer struggling to compete in a male-dominated sport-and her daughters, Mindy and Ginger, bear the weight of Carol's unconventional lifestyle.
The Donnelly sisters grow up enduring their mother's absence-physically, when she's at the beach, and emotionally, the rare times she's at home. To escape questions about Carol's whereabouts-and to chase her elusive affection-they cut school to spend their days in the surf. From her first time on a board, Mindy is a natural, but Ginger, two years younger, feels out of place in the water.
As they grow up and their lives diverge, Mindy and Ginger's relationship ebbs and flows. Mindy finds herself swept up in celebrity, complete with beachside love affairs, parties at the Playboy Club, and a USO tour in Vietnam. Meanwhile, Ginger, desperate for a community of her own, is tugged into the dangerous counterculture of drugs and cults. But through it all, their sense of duty to each other survives, as the girls are forever connected by the emotional damage they carry from their unorthodox childhood.
A gripping, emotional story set at a time when mothers were expected to be Donna Reed, not Gidget, California Golden is an unforgettable novel about three women living in a society that was shifting as tempestuously as the breaking waves.
Editorial Reviews
"Melanie Benjamin pairs the surf culture of the Beach Boys with the sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll of Daisy Jones & the Six. . . . Benjamin's novel is a portrait of three women beset by shifting cultural tides and a shimmering rendering of the promises and heartbreak of Southern California."-Entertainment Weekly
"Benjamin vividly evokes the squalor and splendor of California surfing culture in this richly-textured novel that explores sisterhood, motherhood, ambition and friendship, with characters who rise alive from the page. It's rare to find such raw, honest sympathy for human beings and their capacity for mistakes and redemption. California Golden is a breath of bracing salt air."-Beatriz Williams, author of A Hundred Summers
"A gripping story about the power of family ties set in the edgy California surf culture and the glamorous and sometimes dangerous world of Hollywood celebrity, California Golden takes readers on an emotional, page-turning ride."-Elyssa Friedland, author of The Most Likely Club
"California Golden left me breathless. Against the shimmering backdrop of California's burgeoning surf culture, Melanie Benjamin explores the bonds of sisterhood and motherhood in an era where society, and its expectations of women, are ever changing. The Donnelly women, perfect in their imperfections, will stay with you long after the last page."-Shelby Van Pelt, author of Remarkably Bright Creatures
"Melanie Benjamin does a superb job of showing the complicated relationships that happen in so many families. Her ability to describe the scenery of the California surf scene is unmatched. This is the perfect story for readers who want to get lost in an emotional novel about breaking barriers and being a family."-Rachel Hanna, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author of The Beach House
"You can practically hear The Beach Boys singing ‘California Girls' in this novel about surfer sisters Mindy and Ginger D...
"Benjamin vividly evokes the squalor and splendor of California surfing culture in this richly-textured novel that explores sisterhood, motherhood, ambition and friendship, with characters who rise alive from the page. It's rare to find such raw, honest sympathy for human beings and their capacity for mistakes and redemption. California Golden is a breath of bracing salt air."-Beatriz Williams, author of A Hundred Summers
"A gripping story about the power of family ties set in the edgy California surf culture and the glamorous and sometimes dangerous world of Hollywood celebrity, California Golden takes readers on an emotional, page-turning ride."-Elyssa Friedland, author of The Most Likely Club
"California Golden left me breathless. Against the shimmering backdrop of California's burgeoning surf culture, Melanie Benjamin explores the bonds of sisterhood and motherhood in an era where society, and its expectations of women, are ever changing. The Donnelly women, perfect in their imperfections, will stay with you long after the last page."-Shelby Van Pelt, author of Remarkably Bright Creatures
"Melanie Benjamin does a superb job of showing the complicated relationships that happen in so many families. Her ability to describe the scenery of the California surf scene is unmatched. This is the perfect story for readers who want to get lost in an emotional novel about breaking barriers and being a family."-Rachel Hanna, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author of The Beach House
"You can practically hear The Beach Boys singing ‘California Girls' in this novel about surfer sisters Mindy and Ginger D...
Readers Top Reviews
Maddie
This one had too much drama for me. I have read other books by this author. But this one just missed the mark for me. I don’t think I would suggest.
Theresa Alan
4.5 stars. I had to put this book down at about the forty percent mark because I was so irritated with every character making such poor life choices. Also, sexism and racism are not fun to read about. But after I finished reading it, I was sad to see the characters go. Even though Carol was a terrible mother, she had no choice in becoming one. Mindy and Ginger also had a terrible father, but because he was out of the picture and nothing was expected of men of that era, he got let off the hook. I never spent any time thinking about the sexism or racism in surfing. Free love and peace didn’t extend to equality for women in most places in the ‘50s and ‘60s. Reading about the way Carol was forced to give birth by being tied up and drugged was pretty gruesome. Ginger in particular believed she was worthless and somehow felt chosen (and not trapped) by a physically and emotionally abusive man. At least Mindy had a few good things happen to her along the way. This novel about what it was like to be an athletic woman in 1940s through the 1960s is compelling. We still don’t have everything fixed, but at least some things, and at least for now in some places, are a little better. NetGalley provided an advance copy of this novel.
J.K
California Golden submerges readers into everything California in the late 50s and 60s when the surfing craze was all the rage. Benjamin depicts all that is good and bad with the surf scene. I had great disdain for Carol. I thought her character was utterly selfish and my opinion didn’t change. I felt bad for Mindy and Ginger. Mindy found strength but Ginger was just a vacuous shell. I felt bad for Bob and Jimmy, with Jimmy being the stronger man. It’s a good read.
Julie Merilatt
Sisters Mindy and Ginger Donnelly haven’t had the easiest life. Their mom Carol is an absentee, preferring to spend her time surfing than mothering, and their dad left when he’d had enough of Carol’s neglect. They have to rely on each other to survive. When they’re old enough, they decide that the only way to favor Carol’s attention is to embrace her interests, they decide to take up surfing also. Mindy is a natural, though Ginger is more timid on the water, but at least Carol is finally paying attention to them. As the Donnelly girls get older, the more they drift apart. Carol is as selfish as ever, Mindy gets caught up with celebrity and the Whiskey A-Go-Go nightclub scene, and Ginger is enamored with her self-appointed Surf God boyfriend. In the course of pursuing their different objectives, they inflict pain on each other, both deliberately and inadvertently. I liked how the first two thirds of the book were from the daughters’ perspectives, and we spend a few chapters after learning more about Carol. The characters were flawed and frustrating, but also had their redeeming qualities. I could appreciate the bond and friendship of sisterhood. But the best part of the book was the atmosphere and the historical backdrop. The 60’s southern California scene was expertly rendered. I’ve read all of Benjamin’s novels, and this is one of her best. I received a complimentary copy of this book from the publisher.
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Carol Donnelly was not cut out to be the perfect little housewife and mother that everyone expected of her in the 1950s. Trapped into marriage and motherhood at the age of 19, she was forced to give up her athletic dreams. Her young daughters pretty much had to bring themselves up as Carol became immersed in the surfing culture of 1960s California. This book brought back a lot of memories of my own growing-up years during the 50s and 60s. It feels a bit strange to read "historical" fiction about a time I actually lived and experienced for myself. I can't wait to see what Melanie Benjamin writes about next as I still think about The Children's Blizzard when I'm trudging through the snow on an icy winter day
Short Excerpt Teaser
1
1964
The surf giveth, and the surf taketh away-thus said the Surf God every morning, noon, and night in his church, which was the universe, the planet, California, the beach, the waves.
On this holy day, the surf would most definitely giveth.
The sand was cool and soft as sugar between her toes, the California sun tolerable, not blasting, because it was February. Yet the day was warm enough that the girls in their vibrant bikinis, and the guys in their board shorts, weren't covered in goose pimples as they danced to the wailing electric guitars of Dick Dale and His Del-Tones-twisting, shimmying, hand jiving. One girl's bikini was covered in long fringe that seemed to pulse with a life of its own as she gyrated so fiercely it was a wonder she didn't snap her pelvis.
Mindy laughed at the sight, then turned to do a groovy little two-step with one of the hunky boys who'd gravitated into her orbit, for today she was the sun itself, radiating joy and contentment. She danced a little Watusi, a little Pony with a side of Mashed Potato. Raising her face to her fellow celestial being in a sisterly salute, she turned her back on the waves lapping the generous beach of Paradise Cove, tucked between tall sandy cliffs and a spindly wooden pier.
If the sand was sugar, then gumballs and peppermint drops dotted the sky in the form of beach balls. Surfboards stood like totems in the sand. And Dick Dale and his boys-all clad in wild Hawaiian shirts, their crew-cut heads bopping up and down rhythmically-continued to give it their all as they cranked through the driving melody of "Let's Go Trippin'." The music-propelled by that wailing electric organ-almost drowned out the pounding surf as it hurled itself against the concrete pylons of the pier.
This is life, Mindy thought, grinning wildly at the other kids, who returned the joy, all smiling their blinding California smiles, teeth startlingly white against their suntanned faces. And why shouldn't they be happy? They were all gorgeous, all young, all dancing on the beach on a Wednesday afternoon. She caught her sister's eye; Ginger, with her curves, was naturally surrounded by guys with their tongues hanging out, but she managed to give Mindy a sly wink.
This should be my life, Mindy thought, correcting herself. Then, for the first time, the thin edge of the wedge:
Why can't this be my life?
"Cut! Print!" The director, high atop his lifeguard's chair, nodded decisively. The prerecorded music cut out abruptly, leaving Dick Dale and the Del-Tones strumming soundless electric guitars that were not plugged in.
"That's a wrap for the day, boys and girls," the director continued, his words garbled through the cheap loudspeaker. "See you tomorrow, same time, same place, wearing what you are right now."
There was an explosion of chatter and laughter as crew members started coiling cables, switching off the humming generators, and pushing the cameras back up the rickety wooden ramp toward the tent where they'd be protected from the salty night air. The two stars of the movie quickly headed off over the mounds of trucked-in sand to their trailers, assistants throwing terry cloth robes over their pocket-sized movie star bodies, which were coated in makeup, so different from the natural tans of all the locals, Mindy included. She snickered at the absurd hairstyle on the female star, a gravity-defying upsweep coated with hairspray so not a single hair was disturbed by the ocean breeze. Mindy's own hair was blond, bleached almost white by the sun, and conveniently short enough to style with her fingers.
As Dick Dale and his boys packed up their instruments, Mindy ran to grab a sweater she'd stashed behind a loudspeaker, pulling it quickly over her bikini; the sun was sinking fast.
"Hey, Mindy, where are you going?" Paula, the girl in the fringed bikini, came running up.
Paula wasn't an extra like Mindy and her crowd; she had an actual named part in the film. She was practically a movie star! Why was she talking to Mindy?
"I don't know, I usually drive back home or crash somewhere else," Mindy said. "Why?"
"Some of us have been camping out here on the beach," Paula answered. Her false eyelashes were mesmerizing, resembling black tendrils of seaweed, so long they almost grazed her eyebrows. Like the other extras, Mindy wore no makeup. She was never close enough to the camera to warrant it. And when she was out on the water, doubling the actual surfing ...
1964
The surf giveth, and the surf taketh away-thus said the Surf God every morning, noon, and night in his church, which was the universe, the planet, California, the beach, the waves.
On this holy day, the surf would most definitely giveth.
The sand was cool and soft as sugar between her toes, the California sun tolerable, not blasting, because it was February. Yet the day was warm enough that the girls in their vibrant bikinis, and the guys in their board shorts, weren't covered in goose pimples as they danced to the wailing electric guitars of Dick Dale and His Del-Tones-twisting, shimmying, hand jiving. One girl's bikini was covered in long fringe that seemed to pulse with a life of its own as she gyrated so fiercely it was a wonder she didn't snap her pelvis.
Mindy laughed at the sight, then turned to do a groovy little two-step with one of the hunky boys who'd gravitated into her orbit, for today she was the sun itself, radiating joy and contentment. She danced a little Watusi, a little Pony with a side of Mashed Potato. Raising her face to her fellow celestial being in a sisterly salute, she turned her back on the waves lapping the generous beach of Paradise Cove, tucked between tall sandy cliffs and a spindly wooden pier.
If the sand was sugar, then gumballs and peppermint drops dotted the sky in the form of beach balls. Surfboards stood like totems in the sand. And Dick Dale and his boys-all clad in wild Hawaiian shirts, their crew-cut heads bopping up and down rhythmically-continued to give it their all as they cranked through the driving melody of "Let's Go Trippin'." The music-propelled by that wailing electric organ-almost drowned out the pounding surf as it hurled itself against the concrete pylons of the pier.
This is life, Mindy thought, grinning wildly at the other kids, who returned the joy, all smiling their blinding California smiles, teeth startlingly white against their suntanned faces. And why shouldn't they be happy? They were all gorgeous, all young, all dancing on the beach on a Wednesday afternoon. She caught her sister's eye; Ginger, with her curves, was naturally surrounded by guys with their tongues hanging out, but she managed to give Mindy a sly wink.
This should be my life, Mindy thought, correcting herself. Then, for the first time, the thin edge of the wedge:
Why can't this be my life?
"Cut! Print!" The director, high atop his lifeguard's chair, nodded decisively. The prerecorded music cut out abruptly, leaving Dick Dale and the Del-Tones strumming soundless electric guitars that were not plugged in.
"That's a wrap for the day, boys and girls," the director continued, his words garbled through the cheap loudspeaker. "See you tomorrow, same time, same place, wearing what you are right now."
There was an explosion of chatter and laughter as crew members started coiling cables, switching off the humming generators, and pushing the cameras back up the rickety wooden ramp toward the tent where they'd be protected from the salty night air. The two stars of the movie quickly headed off over the mounds of trucked-in sand to their trailers, assistants throwing terry cloth robes over their pocket-sized movie star bodies, which were coated in makeup, so different from the natural tans of all the locals, Mindy included. She snickered at the absurd hairstyle on the female star, a gravity-defying upsweep coated with hairspray so not a single hair was disturbed by the ocean breeze. Mindy's own hair was blond, bleached almost white by the sun, and conveniently short enough to style with her fingers.
As Dick Dale and his boys packed up their instruments, Mindy ran to grab a sweater she'd stashed behind a loudspeaker, pulling it quickly over her bikini; the sun was sinking fast.
"Hey, Mindy, where are you going?" Paula, the girl in the fringed bikini, came running up.
Paula wasn't an extra like Mindy and her crowd; she had an actual named part in the film. She was practically a movie star! Why was she talking to Mindy?
"I don't know, I usually drive back home or crash somewhere else," Mindy said. "Why?"
"Some of us have been camping out here on the beach," Paula answered. Her false eyelashes were mesmerizing, resembling black tendrils of seaweed, so long they almost grazed her eyebrows. Like the other extras, Mindy wore no makeup. She was never close enough to the camera to warrant it. And when she was out on the water, doubling the actual surfing ...
