Looking Back - True to Form

Looking Back... In an effort to transfer my book journal entries over to this blog, I'm going to attempt to post (in chronological order) an entry every Friday. I may or may not add extra commentary to what I jotted down in these journals.

True to Form by Elizabeth Berg

Katie Nash #3

Fiction

2002

Finished on June 30, 2002

Rating: 4/5 (Very Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

In this warm and engaging novel, New York Times bestselling author Elizabeth Berg revisits the heroine she so lovingly brought to life in Durable Goods and Joy School.

It is 1961, and thirteen-year-old Katie is facing a summer full of conflict. First, instead of letting her find her own work for the season, Katie's father has arranged for two less-than-ideal baby-sitting jobs. Worse, Katie has been forcibly inducted into the "loser" Girl Scout troop organized by her only friend Cynthia's controlling and clueless mother. A much-anticipated visit to her former home in Texas and ex-best friend Cherylanne proves disappointing. And then comes an act of betrayal that leaves Katie questioning her views on friendship, on her ability not to take those she loves for granted, and most important, on herself.

Full of the anguish and the joys of adolescence in a much more innocent time, True to Form is sure to make readers remember and reflect upon their own moments of discovery and self-definition.

My Original Thoughts (2002):

Touching. Took me a few chapters to get interested.

My Current Thoughts:

I still have the ARC of this novel. I re-read the first in the Katie Nash trilogy this past January, and plan to give both Joy School and True to Form a second reading, as well.

The Lacuna

 

The Lacuna by Barbara Kingsolver

Fiction

2009

Finished on May 1, 2026

Rating: 4.5/5 (Excellent)

Publisher's Blurb:

In her most accomplished novel, Barbara Kingsolver takes us on an epic journey from the Mexico City of artists Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo to the America of Pearl Harbor, FDR, and J. Edgar Hoover. The Lacuna is a poignant story of a man pulled between two nations as they invent their modern identities.

Born in the United States, reared in a series of provisional households in Mexico—from a coastal island jungle to 1930s Mexico City—Harrison Shepherd finds precarious shelter but no sense of home on his thrilling odyssey. Life is whatever he learns from housekeepers who put him to work in the kitchen, errands he runs in the streets, and one fateful day, by mixing plaster for famed Mexican muralist Diego Rivera. He discovers a passion for Aztec history and meets the exotic, imperious artist Frida Kahlo, who will become his lifelong friend. When he goes to work for Lev Trotsky, an exiled political leader fighting for his life, Shepherd inadvertently casts his lot with art and revolution, newspaper headlines and howling gossip, and a risk of terrible violence.

Meanwhile, to the north, the United States will soon be caught up in the internationalist goodwill of World War II. There in the land of his birth, Shepherd believes he might remake himself in America's hopeful image and claim a voice of his own. He finds support from an unlikely kindred soul, his stenographer, Mrs. Brown, who will be far more valuable to her employer than he could ever know. Through darkening years, political winds continue to toss him between north and south in a plot that turns many times on the unspeakable breach—the lacuna—between truth and public presumption.

With deeply compelling characters, a vivid sense of place, and a clear grasp of how history and public opinion can shape a life, Barbara Kingsolver has created an unforgettable portrait of the artist—and of art itself. The Lacuna is a rich and daring work of literature, establishing its author as one of the most provocative and important of her time.

Wow. Why did I wait so long to read this remarkable story by one of my favorite authors? I was quickly pulled into Barabara Kingsolver's gorgeously written novel, filling my copy with dozens of Post-It flags. The first half of the book is quite a page-turner, and I enjoyed learning about Rivera and Kahlo's art, paintings with which I'm familiar from my art history studies. From journal entries to correspondences (to Frida), we have an intimate view of Harrison Shepherd's life from start to end. This immersive tale is filled with vivid settings, as well as realistic characters. One of the things I love about historical fiction is learning about a specific time period. Kingsolver touches on numerous points in our history from the 1930s to 1950s. This would have been a perfect 5-star read, but as I reached the three-quarter mark, it lost momentum and I struggled to stay awake for more than a few pages each night. The story regained my interest toward the end, and the finale was very satisfying.

Some favorite passages:

“Mr. Shepherd, ye cannot stop a bad thought from coming into your head. But ye need not pull up a chair and bide it sit down."

I should like to write my books only for the dear person who lies awake reading in bed until page last, then lets the open book fall gently on her face, to touch her smile or drink her tears.

The jacaranda in the courtyard has put on its bloom. This purple can't be ignored, it's like a tree singing. The walk down Londres Street to the market is a concert: the small jacaranda on the the corner hums the tuning note, then all others in the lane join in.

When Cortés’s men first arrived here, they asked in Spanish, “What is the name of this place?” From the native Mayans they received the same answer every time: “Yucatán!” In their language that word means: “I do not understand you.”

His mother had let him carry two valises: one for books, one for clothes. The clothes were a waste, outgrown instantly. He should have filled both with books. 

Algebra, a language spoken on the moon. For a boy with no plans to go there. 

If you're a Kingsolver fan and you haven't read The Lacuna, don't wait another moment. This one's a gem, and one that I will read again.

Highly recommend.

A Far-flung Life

 

A Far-flung Life by M. L. Stedman

Fiction

2026

Finished on December 27, 2025

Rating: 5/5 (Outstanding!)

Release Date: March 3, 2026

Publisher's Blurb:

From the author of the acclaimed bestseller The Light Between Oceans comes a breathtaking and epic novel set in the vast outback of Australia about tragedy, family secrets, and the enduring power of love.

When we do something that can't be undone or mended, how do we go on living? How do we find our North Star when there is no right answer? These are the questions at the center of M. L. Stedman's unforgettable and magisterial new novel A Far-flung Life, a sweeping and epic story of a family, a tragedy, and the aftermath that reverberates for decades.

Remote Western Australia, 1958: here, for generations, the MacBrides have lived on a vast sheep station, Meredith Downs. It is a million acres, an ocean of arid land. On an ordinary day, on a lonely road, under the unending blue sky, patriarch Phil MacBride serves to avoid a kangaroo. In seconds the lives of the entire MacBride family are shattered. And then, tragedy revisits when a twist of consequences claims the life of one sibling and leads another to give up everything for the sake of an innocent child. Matt, the youngest MacBride, is blunged into a moral and emotional journey for which there is no map, no guide. The secrets at the heart of this gutting and beautiful story force him to choose between love and duty, sacrifice and happiness.

A Far-flung Life is a tale about family and belonging, fate and time. It is about people trying to do their best and each, for private reasons, seeking shelter from the storm of life. Can a fleeting moment unravel a whole life, mar it indelibly and irrevocably? Can compassion, resilience, and forgiveness allow us to come to terms with our human imperfections? These are the questions Stedman asks in her profoundly moving, uplifting, and luminous new novel about what the heart can endure for the sake of love.

It's been thirteen years since The Light Between Oceans was published. I received an ARC of that debut novel and gave it a perfect 5-star rating. To say that I loved it is an understatement. 

And thus, I was thrilled to receive an ARC of M. L. Stedman's new novel, and as soon as I wrapped up my Elizabeth Strout marathon, I dove right into A Far-flung Life. I couldn't have loved it more. What a remarkable story. It's one of loss, grief, love, and dark secrets. The characters are strongly defined and I ached for the MacBride family who had more than their share of heartaches. Stedman's setting is vivid, the heat and dust practically jumping off the pages.

It's hard country, out this way. Back in England, a farm might support two or three sheep per acre. Here, with the lack of rainfall, you need more like forty acres per sheep. There is heat. There is sun. But on winter nights the water in the tanks will freeze over. The searing light that coaxes life into being here will bleach it out of existence with the same indifferent shrug, leaving blanched trees, and rusted corrugated iron on the roofs of abandoned homesteads. The wind that brings the rain can bring floods and flatten shearing sheds. Everything that can do you good can also do you harm here--that's just the way of it.

This land has seen improbable things: the evolution of marsupials and monotremes; of flightless birds and animals that fly. It's seen continents split and islands arise. It's seen oceans turn to desert and desert turn to glaciers. And it's watched people drag their little lives across its surface, flat and unforgiving. 

and

In the homestead at Meredith Downs, silence is a canvas on which each sound trails like a color. The wind; a single fly; the clatter of a pan; the distant barking of a kelpie; the banging of a flywire door. There is no continuous murmur of traffic. No vague stream of voices. Each sound emerges for its solo, then fades into stillness, into a silence so complete it makes music of your heartbeat in your ears.

A Far-flung Life is a compulsively readable literary work, and I couldn't turn the pages fast enough. It will likely become a book club favorite, and it will linger in my mind for years to come. I am so pleased to have finished out the year with a 5-star read, and look forward to re-reading this beautiful gem. It's a keeper.

Highly recommend!

I received a complimentary copy from Goodreads. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

Looking Back - South of Reason

Looking Back... In an effort to transfer my book journal entries over to this blog, I'm going to attempt to post (in chronological order) an entry every Friday. I may or may not add extra commentary to what I jotted down in these journals.

South of Reason by Cindy Eppes

Fiction

2002

Finished on March 10, 2002

Rating: 4/5 (Very Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

Everybody wondered why the Sanders family had come back to Rosalita, Texas, and moved in next door to Lou Jean Perry. It was apparently the absolute last place they should want to be, though thirteen-year-old Kayla Sanders had no idea why. As the summer heat intensified, Kayla's brittle mother's motives for moving next to bright-spirited Lou Jean would become clear, but not before Kayla discovers that passion listens not to the mind's reason but to the heart's demands. Writing with poignant intensity, Cindy Eppes draws on her Southern roots in a coming-of-age story told by a narrator straight out of Eudora Welty, yet indelibly stamped with a distinctive, contemporary style.

My Original Thoughts (2002):

Complex. Rich in detail. Mystery of sorts. Set in 1968. For those who like coming-of-age stories. Fans of The Secret Life of Bees will enjoy this one.

My Current Thoughts:

Try as I might, I can't remember a thing about this book!

Beyond That, the Sea

 

Beyond That, the Sea by Laura Spence-Ash

Fiction

2023

Finished on March 12, 2025

Rating: 4.5/5 (Excellent)

Publisher's Blurb:

A sweeping, tenderhearted love story, Beyond That, the Sea follows two families living on opposite sides of the Atlantic Ocean and the young woman who will call them both her own.

As German bombs fall over London in 1940, working-class parents Millie and Reginald Thompson make an impossible choice: they decide to send their eleven-year-old daughter, Beatrix, to America, where they hope she’ll stay safe.

Scared and angry, Bea arrives in Boston to meet the Gregorys, who fold her into their world. She adjusts to their affluent lifestyle and grows close to both Gregory boys, one older and one younger, filling in the gap between them. Before long, before she even realizes it, life in America feels more natural to her than her quiet, spare world back in England.

As Bea comes into herself and relaxes into summers on the coast in Maine, the girl she had been begins to fade away, until, abruptly, she is called home to London when the war ends.

Desperate as she is not to leave the Gregorys behind, Bea dutifully retraces her trip across the Atlantic. As she returns to post-war London, the memory of her American family stays with her, never fully letting her go as she tries to move on, pursuing love and a life of her own.

As we follow Bea over time, navigating between her two worlds, Beyond That, the Sea emerges as a beautifully written, absorbing novel, full of grace and heartache, forgiveness and understanding, loss and love.

I loved this book! I've read dozens of novels set during World War II, but Laura Spence-Ash's debut is the first I've read about a British child taking refuge with a family in America. Told from eight perspectives, readers are privy to the inner thoughts and emotions of each main character. Usually, this many POVs would be clumsy and confusing, but the author's use of short, alternating chapters keeps the story flowing smoothly. Even with the short chapters, I was quickly drawn into the lives of each character, all of whom are fully drawn and believable. The linear narrative also aides in the seamlessly woven story of both families, spanning nearly forty years (1940-1977). 

I can't begin to imagine how heartbreaking it must have been for parents to send their young children off to either the countryside or to another country during the Blitz.

That is what's worrying Millie. How small life would seem when Beatrix got back. There would be no fancy parties or baseball game outings or trips to the symphony. She's happy, of course, that she seems so well cared for. She seems to have a nice group of friends. But that will make the return more difficult. She will no longer be a little girl. She no longer is a little girl. They sent her away so she could have a childhood. They hadn't realized, though, that their decision meant that her childhood would, instead, be taken away from them. Millie feels as though something has been stolen from her, never to be returned.

This novel would have been a 5-star read had there been more tension, and had the conclusion not been so predictable. I also dislike the author's dialogue format. Instead of a new paragraph for each person speaking, she embeds the conversation within a paragraph, often several sentences in length. Additionally, the words are in italics rather than quotations marks. There were times when it was hard for me to distinguish who was speaking. These quibbles aside, this is an excellent novel and one I look forward to reading again. I'm also eager to see what Laura Spence-Ash has to offer next. And I'd love to find more books (fiction or nonfiction) about the evacuation of British children during World War II.

I echo Alice Elliott Dark's sentiments:

"I was utterly captivated by this beautiful story from the first page to the last. The characters are so real, their feelings so well portrayed that I had to keep reminding myself that I don’t actually know them. But I do! And I will return to the book to experience the well-wrought details of these lives again. This is a new favorite novel, and I can only hope Laura Spence-Ash has more coming soon." Alice Elliott Dark, Author of Fellowship Point and In the Gloaming

All the Colors of the Dark

 

All the Colors of the Dark by Chris Whitaker

Fiction

2024

Finished on February 17, 2025

Rating: 5/5 (Outstanding)

Publisher's Blurb:

From the New York Times bestselling author of We Begin at the End comes a soaring thriller and an epic love story that spans decades.

1975 is a time of change in America. The Vietnam War is ending. Mohammed Ali is fighting Joe Frazier. And in the small town of Monta Clare, Missouri, girls are disappearing.

When the daughter of a wealthy family is targeted, the most unlikely hero emerges—Patch, a local boy with one eye, who saves the girl, and, in doing so, leaves heartache in his wake.

Patch and those who love him soon discover that the line between triumph and tragedy has never been finer. And that their search for answers will lead them to truths that could mean losing one another.

A missing person mystery, a serial killer thriller, a love story, a unique twist on each, All the Colors of the Dark is about what lurks in the shadows of obsession and the blinding light of hope.

Brilliant novel! I couldn't read this one fast enough, but didn't want it to end, even after being close to 600 pages in length. The short chapters make for a propulsive reading experience, and the last 100 pages intensified the pace, revealing multiple twists and surprises that made it easy for me to continue reading well past midnight. 

I read and loved We Begin at the End, and Whitaker's new novel is as good, if not better! I'm tempted to read it again (maybe on audio, which I hear is outstanding) to see how it unfolds now that I know all the secrets, none of which I once suspected. Not only is this a great coming-of-age novel and a thrilling mystery, but the writing is beyond measure. I love the author's use of language, pausing to re-read his lyrical passages, envisioning the scenes and characters he so deftly creates with his imagery. (His acknowledgments are also a joy to read.) Patch and Saint, as well as Norma, Chief Nix, and Sammy are so well rendered, and they all worked their way into my heart. I do love a feisty, young protagonist like Saint!

Chris Whitaker is a masterful storyteller, and the intricate layers of this tale are superbly conveyed. Highly recommend, entirely and absolutely!

Looking Back - Crow Lake

Looking Back... In an effort to transfer my book journal entries over to this blog, I'm going to attempt to post (in chronological order) an entry every Friday. I may or may not add extra commentary to what I jotted down in these journals.

Crow Lake by Mary Lawson

Fiction

2002

Finished on March 5, 2002

Rating: 4.5/5 (Terrific!)

Publisher's Blurb:

Crow Lake is that rare find, a first novel so quietly assured, so emotionally pitch perfect, you know from the opening page that this is the real thing—a literary experience in which to lose yourself, by an author of immense talent. Here is a gorgeous, slow-burning story set in the rural “badlands” of northern Ontario, where heartbreak and hardship are mirrored in the landscape. For the farming Pye family, life is a Greek tragedy where the sins of the fathers are visited on the sons, and terrible events occur—offstage.

Centerstage are the Morrisons, whose tragedy looks more immediate if less brutal, but is, in reality, insidious and divisive. Orphaned young, Kate Morrison was her older brother Matt’s protegee, her fascination for pond life fed by his passionate interest in the natural world. Now a zoologist, she can identify organisms under a microscope but seems blind to the state of her own emotional life. And she thinks she’s outgrown her siblings—Luke, Matt, and Bo—who were once her entire world.

In this universal drama of family love and misunderstandings, of resentments harbored and driven underground, Lawson ratchets up the tension with heartbreaking humor and consummate control, continually overturning one’s expectations right to the very end. Tragic, funny, unforgettable, this deceptively simple masterpiece about the perils of hero worship leapt to the top of the bestseller lists only days after being released in Canada and earned glowing reviews in The New York Times and The Globe and Mail, to name a few.

My Original Thoughts (2002):

Emotional. Drew me in from the very beginning. What a marvelous book. Great sense of place. Bo is a great character! Stubborn, willful two-year-old who provides humor to a grim story.

My Current Thoughts:

Since reading Crow Lake, I've gone on to read The Other Side of the Bridge and A Town Called Solace, both of which I enjoyed greatly. Reading my review of The Other Side of the Bridge, I notice that I mentioned that I read Crow Lake twice, something I'd forgotten I'd done, but I still want to read it again. I have not gotten around to reading Road Ends, so I'll make that a priorty before I go back to reread the others. Lawson is a gifted writer and I look forward to more of her stories. 

Demon Copperhead

 

Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver

Fiction

2022

Finished on April 12, 2024

Rating: 5/5 (Outstanding!)

Publisher's Blurb:

Set in the mountains of southern Appalachia, this is the story of a boy born to a teenaged single mother in a single-wide trailer, with no assets beyond his dead father's good looks and copper-colored hair, a caustic wit, and a fierce talent for survival. In a plot that never pauses for breath, relayed in his own unsparing voice, he braves the modern perils of foster care, child labor, derelict schools, athletic success, addiction, disastrous loves, and crushing losses. Through all of it, he reckons with his own invisibility in a popular culture where even the superheroes have abandoned rural people in favor of cities.

Many generations ago, Charles Dickens wrote David Copperfield from his experience as a survivor of institutional poverty and its damages to children in his society. Those problems have yet to be solved in ours. Dickens is not a prerequisite for readers of this novel, but he provided its inspiration. In transposing a Victorian epic novel to the contemporary American South, Barbara Kingsolver enlists Dickens' anger and compassion, and above all, his faith in the transformative powers of a good story. Demon Copperhead speaks for a new generation of lost boys, and all those born into beautiful, cursed places they can't imagine leaving behind.

I received an ARC of Demon Copperhead in 2022. The size of Barbara Kingsolver's latest novel, as well as the subject matter, made me hesitant to pick it up. I loaned the book to my mom, who told me she hated it. I loaned it to my husband, who gave up after reading a dozen or so chapters. So, it continued to languish on my nightstand, in spite of my affection for Kingsolver's books. I have read all of her novels (with the exception of The Lacuna), and many are on my list for re-reading (Flight Behavior, The Poisonwood Bible, Pigs in Heaven), so why was I so reticent to start this particular book? I'm sure I would have eventually picked it up, but when my book club selected it for our June discussion, that was nudge I needed. Realizing that it would take me a couple of weeks to read, I decided to start before our RV trip to California, knowing I would have several days of uninterrupted reading once we were on the road. Little did I know that this book would consume my waking thoughts and dreams for the next two weeks. 

I love that Kingsolver tells this tale exclusively from Demon's point of view. I quickly came to care about this resilient young boy, heartbroken over the terrible cards that were dealt to him, his mother, and many of the folks in his life. The situations that claim Demon's innocence, as well as the fragmented sentences which make up the early dialogue in the novel, held me in thrall. With each new turn of events, I couldn't help but wonder if life would ever improve for Demon. Even when it looked like he had finally found a good family situation, I worried about the other shoe falling, forcing him back out on his own, struggling to survive the cruelties of society.

I know this must be a difficult (if not impossible) read for anyone touched by the opioid crisis, and I have to admit that there were times when I didn't think I could continue reading. But Kingsolver's prose, while at times perhaps heavy-handed, never felt didactic or gratuitous. She has written an engrossing and important story, which is not merely entertainment, but rather sheds light on a serious societal problem. For this reason, the Pulitzer Prize is well-deserved. I'm eager to hear how others in my book club felt about the book and anticipate a thought-provoking discussion.

I hadn't considered reading David Copperfield before picking up Demon Copperhead, but now I'm curious to give the former a read in order to find the connections between the two stories. I'm also interested in watching Dopesick, which I understand to be an excellent series.

Passages of note:

I made my peace with the place, but never went a day without feeling around for things that weren't there, the way your tongue pushes into the holes where you've lost teeth. I don't just mean cows, or trees, it runs deeper. Weather, for instance. Air, the way it smells from having living things breathing into it, grass and trees and I don't know what, creatures of the soil. Sounds I missed most of all. There was noise, but nothing behind it. I couldn't get used to the blankness where there should have been bird gossip morning and evening, crickets at night, the buzz saw of cicadas in August. A rooster always sounding off somewhere, even dead in the middle of Jonesville. It's like the movie background music. Notice it or don't but if the volume goes out, the movie has no heart. I'd oftentimes have to stop and ask myself what season it was. I never realized what was holding me to my place on the planet of earth: that soundtrack. That, and leaf colors and what's blooming in the roadside ditches this week, wild sweet peas or purple ironweed or goldenrod. And stars. A sky as dark as sleep, not this hazy pinkish business, I'm saying blind man's black. For a lot of us, that's medicine. Required for the daily reboot. (Demon's thoughts on living in a city.)

and

"Certain pitiful souls around here see whiteness as their last asset that hasn’t been totaled or repossessed."

and

“It’s not something to fix,” he said. “It means strong. Outside of all expectation.” I looked at him. He looked at me. His hands were on his desk with the fingers touching, a tiny cage with air inside. Black hands. The knuckles almost blue-black. Silver wedding ring. He said, “You know, sometimes you hear about these miracles, where a car gets completely mangled in a wreck. But then the driver walks out of it alive? I’m saying you are that driver.”

An affecting and memorable coming-of-age tale which I doubt will ever leave me. Highly recommend!

Novelists like Kingsolver have a particular knack for making us empathize with lives that may bear little resemblance to our own. ~ Salon

Spoiler Alert: 

I was pleased with the hopeful ending...

Looking Back - Snow Island

Looking Back... In an effort to transfer my book journal entries over to this blog, I'm going to attempt to post (in chronological order) an entry every Friday. I may or may not add extra commentary to what I jotted down in these journals.

Snow Island by Katherine Towler

Fiction

2002

Finished on February 18, 2002

Rating: 2/5 (OK)

Publisher's Blurb:

What is life like for a girl coming of age in the shadow of World War II, a girl who lives on a small, isolated island populated by quahoggers and eccentrics?

This tender first novel follows the fate of sixteen-year-old Alice Daggett, who still feels the presence of her father who died six years earlier, and of George Tibbit, a reclusive loner who returns to the island each year in an excessive act of homage to the two women who raised him there.

Snow Island tells of their isolated lives and the impact that WWII has on all of their worlds. Both Alice and George find their lives linked, and changed, forever by the events that happen far from the small New England community that defines them.

Original Review (2002):

Disappointing. One-dimensional characters. Simplistic plot. Predictable. Reads like a YA romance novel. Probably won't read more by this author.

Current Thoughts:

I don't remember reading this book. Even the cover art is unfamiliar to me. I wonder what prompted me to read it. Was it an ARC? Recommended by a friend? Who knows!

The Story of Edgar Sawtelle - Updated

 

The Story of Edgar Sawtelle by David Wroblewski

Fiction

2008

Narrated by Richard Poe

21 hours and 39 minutes

First Reading: July 14, 2010

Second Reading: March 3, 2024

Original Rating: 5/5 (Outstanding!)

New Rating: 4/5 (Very Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

Born mute, speaking only in sign, Edgar Sawtelle leads an idyllic life with his parents on their farm in remote northern Wisconsin. For generations, the Sawtelles have raised and trained a fictional breed of dog whose thoughtful companionship is epitomized by Almondine, Edgar's lifelong friend and ally. But with the unexpected return of Claude, Edgar's paternal uncle, turmoil consumes the Sawtelles' once peaceful home. When Edgar's father dies suddenly, Claude insinuates himself into the life of the farm—and into Edgar's mother's affections.

Grief-stricken and bewildered, Edgar tries to prove Claude played a role in his father's death, but his plan backfires—spectacularly. Forced to flee into the vast wilderness lying beyond the farm, Edgar comes of age in the wild, fighting for his survival and that of the three yearling dogs who follow him. But his need to face his father's murderer and his devotion to the Sawtelle dogs turn Edgar ever homeward.

David Wroblewski is a master storyteller, and his breathtaking scenes—the elemental north woods, the sweep of seasons, an iconic American barn, a fateful vision rendered in the falling rain—create a riveting family saga, a brilliant exploration of the limits of language, and a compulsively readable modern classic.

Early this year, I learned that David Wroblewski has written a sequel to The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, a book that I read over a dozen years ago. I've always intended to give the book a second reading, so I downloaded the audio and spent seven weeks listening at every opportunity. It's a long story (21+ hours or 576 pages), and with all the rain we've recently experienced, I didn't get out for my regular walks, so it took even longer to reach the end. I enjoyed the story, but not as much as the first time I heard it. Some plot details were very familiar, and yet some (including the finale) were a complete surprise. I can't believe I'd forgotten how the story ended! 

I'm looking forward to reading Familiaris later this year (it's due out on June 4th), but it's even longer than Wroblewski's debut, clocking in at 980 pages! That's 33 1/2 hours on audio, which to compare, is about 3 hours fewer than Lonesome Dove. 

Rather than link to my previous review, I'm including it below in full. I'm a little sad that I didn't love this one as much as the first time around, but it's still a great story.

Original Review of July 14, 2010

I loved this book! I loved it so much that after listening to the audio, I was compelled to buy a copy for future readings. The writing is beyond lyrical; it's exquisite! The characters (human and canine) touched my heart, and Edgar and Almondine have joined the ranks of all-time favorite characters, keeping company with Scout, Owen, Leisel & Rudy, and Perry. I actually found myself thinking of Owen Meany a lot during this book; probably due to the manner in which he speaks...and the manner in which Edgar is unable to do so.

I found myself completely absorbed in the story, sitting in my parked car (both in my driveway or the parking lot at work) long after my car engine had cooled, unable to pull myself away from the narrative. The pacing is even, the suspense and foreshadowing perfectly tuned. Richard Poe is an exceptional reader and his performance of this heartfelt coming-of-age novel is to be applauded.

On man's (or boy's) best friend:

This will be his earliest memory.

Red light, morning light. High ceiling canted overhead. Lazy click of toenails on wood. Between the honey-colored slats of the crib a whiskery muzzle slides forward until its cheeks pull back and a row of dainty front teeth bare themselves in a ridiculous grin.

The nose quivers. The velvet snout dimples.

All the house is quiet. Be still. Stay still.

Fine, dark muzzle fur. Black nose, leather of lacework creases, comma of nostrils flexing with each breath. A breeze shushes up the field and pillows the curtains inward. The apple tree near the kitchen window caresses the house with a tick-tickety-tick-tick. As slowly as he can, he exhales, feigning sleep, but despite himself his breath hitches. At once, the muzzle knows he is awake. It snorts. Angles right and left. Withdraws. Outside the crib, Almondine's forequarters appear. Her head is reared back, her ears cocked forward.

A cherry-brindled eye peers back at him.

Whoosh of her tail.

Be still. Stay still.

The muzzle comes hunting again, tunnels beneath his blanket, below the farmers and pigs and chicks and cows dyed into that cotton world. His hand rises on fingers and spider-walks across the surprised farmyard residents to challenge the intruder. It becomes a bird, hovering before their eyes. Thumb and index finger squeeze the crinkled black nose. The pink of her tongue darts out but the bird flies away before Almondine can lick it. Her tail is switching harder now. Her body sways, her breath envelops him. He tugs the blackest whisker on her chin and this time her tongue catches the palm of his hand ever so slightly. He pitches to his side, rubs his hand across the blanket, blows a breath in her face. Her ears flick back. She stomps a foot. He blows again and she withdraws and bows and woofs, low in her chest, quiet and deep, the boom of an uncontainable heartbeat. Hearing it, he forgets and presses his face against the rails to see her, all of her, take her inside him with his eyes, and before he can move, she smears her tongue across his nose and forehead! He claps a hand to his face but it's too late—she's away, spinning, biting her tail, dancing in the moted sunlight that spills through the window glass.

and

Wandering through the kennel, holding a book: Winnie-the-Pooh. He opens a whelping pen, sits. The puppies surge through the underbrush of loose straw, kicking up fine white dust as they come along. He captures them between his legs and reads to them, hands in motion before their upturned muzzles. The mother comes over and they peep like chicks when they see her. One by one she carries them back to the whelping box; they hang black and bean-shaped from her mouth. When she has finished, she stands over them, looking at Edgar in reproach.

They wanted to hear, he signs at her, but the mother won't settle with her pups until he leaves.

Winnie-the-Pooh is a good story for puppies. If only she would let him tell it.

I'm not sure what I expected when I first picked up this debut novel, but I was more than pleasantly surprised by Wroblewski's beautiful prose:

Inside was a calamity of plywood and mossy bedsprings and vast spider webs hanging like spinnakers between the timbers.

On trained dogs:

And the dogs, in turn, discovered that if they waited after he'd asked them to stay and disappeared into a cabin, he would always return. Together they practiced new skills he devised. They had long understood what was being asked of them during a stay, whether in the training in the yard or in town; now he asked if they would stay in a forest glade when they were hungry and the flickers pounded the ground, thumping up millipedes, or squirrels harassed them, or a rock sailed over their heads and rattled the dead leaves. Several times each day he found a likely spot shielded by sumac or bracken fern, and he placed them in guard over something small—a stick he'd been carrying that morning, say, or a bit of rag. Then he walked off into the forest, careful not to push them past the breaking point since he had no way to correct them. Later, he tied a length of fishing line to the guarded thing and asked them to move only when it moved, keeping it surrounded. When they got that right, he'd sail back into their midst signing, release! and throw himself at them to roll and tickle, toss the thing for them to catch, see to each of them in whatever way he'd learned was the greatest delight for that dog.

He learned, too, the limits of their patience, different for each of them. In a stay, Baboo was as immovable as the hills, and likely to fall asleep. Essay, ever alert, was the most tempted of any of them by the skitter of a rock pitched through the ferns. And Tinder, equally likely to stick or bolt, who twice jumped up when Essay broke her stay and licked her muzzle and coaxed her back into a sit.

I've yet to read Where the Red Fern Grows or Old Yeller, but recently I've become drawn to novels about dogs. I loved Garth Stein's The Art of Racing in the Rain and now The Story of Edgar Sawtelle has found its way into my heart. Looks like I'm in good company, too:

Praise from Stephen King:

I flat-out loved The Story of Edgar Sawtelle, and spent twelve happy evenings immersed in the world David Wroblewski has created. As I neared the end, I kept finding excuses to put the book aside for a little, not because I didn't like it, but because I liked it too much; I didn't want it to end. Dog-lovers in particular will find themselves riveted by this story, because the canine world has never been explored with such imagination and emotional resonance. Yet in the end, this isn't a novel about dogs or heartland America--although it is a deeply American work of literature. It's a novel about the human heart, and the mysteries that live there, understood but impossible to articulate. Yet in the person of Edgar Sawtelle, a mute boy who takes three of his dogs on a brave and dangerous odyssey, Wroblewski does articulate them, and splendidly. I closed the book with that regret readers feel only after experiencing the best stories: It's over, you think, and I won't read another one this good for a long, long time.

In truth, there's never been a book quite like The Story of Edgar Sawtelle. I thought of Hamlet when I was reading it, and Watership Down, and The Night of the Hunter, and The Life of Pi--but halfway through, I put all comparisons aside and let it just be itself.

I'm pretty sure this book is going to be a bestseller, but unlike some, it deserves to be. It's also going to be the subject of a great many reading groups, and when the members take up Edgar, I think they will be apt to stick to the book and forget the neighborhood gossip.

Wonderful, mysterious, long and satisfying: readers who pick up this novel are going to enter a richer world. I envy them the trip. I don't re-read many books, because life is too short. I will be re-reading this one.

Final thoughts: Do not be put off by the size of this book. You will not want it to end!

Did I say I loved it?!

Looking Back - The Secret Life of Bees

Looking Back... In an effort to transfer my book journal entries over to this blog, I'm going to attempt to post (in chronological order) an entry every Friday. I may or may not add extra commentary to what I jotted down in these journals.

The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd

Fiction

2002

Finished on February 11, 2002

Rating: 4.5/5 (Very Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

Set in South Carolina during 1964, The Secret Life of Bees tells the story of a fourteen year old white girl, Lily Owens, whose life has been shaped around the blurred memory of the afternoon her mother was killed. When Lily’s fierce-hearted “stand-in mother,” Rosaleen, insults three racists in town, they escape to Tiburon, South Carolina—a town that holds the secret to her mother’s past. Taken in by an eccentric trio of black beekeeping sisters, Lily finds refuge in their mesmerizing world of bees, honey, and the Black Madonna.

Lily starts a journey as much about her understanding of the world, as about the mystery surrounding her mother. The Secret Life of Bees is a major literary triumph about the search for love and belonging, a novel that possesses a rare wisdom about life and the power and divinity of the female spirit.

My Original Thoughts (2002):

Strong southern storytelling! One of those page-turners that you try to read slowly, prolonging the finale as long as possible. Has all the ingredients for a "woe-is-me" Oprah selection, but it's several notches above those depressing, worn-out stories of women down on their luck. Sure, there's a bit of that, but nobody's life is perfect and this first-time novelist has created a winner! I need to own this book so I can mark my favorite passages. Definitely worthy of a second (or third!) reading. Beautiful cover art, too. Humorous and poignant. I would love a sequel to this story.

My Current Thoughts:

I enjoyed this so well that I bought a hardcover copy for my keeper shelf. I've read it twice and have watched the movie, as well. Might be time for a third read. It's a winner! 

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow

 

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin

Fiction

2022

Finished on February 3, 2024

Rating: 4.5/5 (Very Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

In this exhilarating novel, two friends--often in love, but never lovers--come together as creative partners in the world of video game design, where success brings them fame, joy, tragedy, duplicity, and, ultimately, a kind of immortality.

On a bitter-cold day, in the December of his junior year at Harvard, Sam Masur exits a subway car and sees, amid the hordes of people waiting on the platform, Sadie Green. He calls her name. For a moment, she pretends she hasn't heard him, but then, she turns, and a game begins: a legendary collaboration that will launch them to stardom. These friends, intimates since childhood, borrow money, beg favors, and, before even graduating college, they have created their first blockbuster, Ichigo. Overnight, the world is theirs. Not even twenty-five years old, Sam and Sadie are brilliant, successful, and rich, but these qualities won't protect them from their own creative ambitions or the betrayals of their hearts.

Spanning thirty years, from Cambridge, Massachusetts, to Venice Beach, California, and lands in between and far beyond, Gabrielle Zevin's Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow is a dazzling and intricately imagined novel that examines the multifarious nature of identity, disability, failure, the redemptive possibilities in play, and above all, our need to connect: to be loved and to love. Yes, it is a love story, but it is not one you have read before.

Wow! I was hesitant to read this novel, worried that it was going to be a case of an over-hyped book, but it lives up to all the accolades and recognition. I loved it! I'm not a gamer, but I didn't feel compelled to skim over those details, but rather enjoyed learning a little bit about the gaming world. (I felt the same way about Ready Player One, which turned out to be an absolute favorite the year I read it.) While not a gamer, I'm of an age where names such as The Oregon Trail, Donkey Kong, Super Mario Brothers, Sims, Warcraft, Doom, and Final Fantasy are familiar. I loved the nostalgia these games bring to the narrative.

I've read two other books by Zevin (The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry and Young Jane Young), each of which are very good, but Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow surpasses both in depth and creativity. And, just as I was beginning to think that the novel was losing momentum, getting bogged down in relationship dramas, Zevin threw in a startling event that pulled me back to the edge of my seat. Great dialogue, sophisticated and imaginative plotting, and loveable characters. A very satisfying (and engrossing) read that you'll want to discuss with others. I can't wait for my husband to give it a read! Highly recommend.

The House on Mango Street

 

The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros

Fiction - Classics

1984

Finished on January 10, 2024

Rating: 3/5 (Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

Here is Sandra Cisneros' greatly admired and best-selling novel of a young girl growing up in the Latino section of Chicago. Acclaimed by critics, beloved by children and their parents and grandparents, taught everywhere from inner-city grade schools to universities across the country, and translated all over the world, "The House on Mango Street" has entered the canon of coming-of-age classics even as it depicts a new American landscape.

Sometimes heartbreaking, sometimes deeply joyous, "The House on Mango Street" tells the story of Esperanza Cordero, whose neighborhood is one of harsh realities and harsh beauty. Esperanza doesn't want to belong - not to her run-down neighborhood, and not to the low expectations the world has for her. Esperanza's story is that of a young girl coming into her power, and inventing for herself what she will become. "The San Francisco Chronicle" has called "The House on Mango Street" "marvelous... spare yet luminous. The subtle power of Cisneros' storytelling is evident. She communicates all the rapture and rage of growing up in a modern world." It is an extraordinary achievement that will live on for years to come.

Part poetry, part novella, Sandra Cisneros' classic coming-of-age story is easily read in one sitting. I chose to read a few vignettes every night, allowing the beautiful prose to sink in, appreciating the visual imagery presented by Cisneros. I wish I had read this while in school, as I think there is much more below the surface. Maybe it's one to discuss with a book group. Lyrical. Nuanced. Spare. Eloquent. Recommend.

Earl works nights. His blinds are always closed during the day. Sometimes he comes out and tells us to keep quiet. The little wooden door that has wedged shut the dark for so long opens with a sigh and lets out a breath of mold and dampness, like books that have been left out in the rain. This is the only time we see Earl except for when he comes and goes to work. He has two little black dogs that go everywhere with him. They don't walk like ordinary dogs, but leap and somersault like an apostrophe and comma. 

Closer by Sea

 

Closer by Sea by Perry Chafe

Fiction

2023 Simon & Schuster

Finished on November 29, 2023

Rating: 3.5/5 (Good)

Publisher's Blurb:

From the writer and producer of the hit TV shows Republic of Doyle and Son of a Critch, a poignant coming-of-age debut novel about the mysterious disappearance of a young girl and the fragility of childhood bonds, set against the backdrop of a small island community adapting to an ever-changing landscape.

In 1991, on a small, isolated island off the coast of Newfoundland, twelve-year-old Pierce Jacobs struggles to come to terms with the death of his father. It’s been three years since his dad, a fisherman, disappeared in the cold, unforgiving Atlantic, his body never recovered. Pierce is determined to save enough money to fix his father’s old boat and take it out to sea. But life on the island is quiet and hard. The local fishing industry is on the brink of collapse, threatening to take an ages-old way of life with it. The community is hit even harder when a young teen named Anna Tessier goes missing.

With the help of his three friends, Pierce sets out to find Anna, with whom he shared an unusual but special bond. They soon cross paths with Solomon Vickers, a mysterious, hermetic fisherman who may have something to do with the missing girl. Their search brings them into contact with unrelenting bullies, magnificent sea creatures, fierce storms, and glacial giants. But most of all, it brings them closer to the brutal reality of both the natural and the modern world.

Part coming-of-age story, part literary mystery, and part suspense thriller, Closer by Sea is a page-turning, poignant, and powerful novel about family, friendship, and community set at a pivotal time in modern Newfoundland history. It is an homage to a people and a place, and above all it captures that delicate and tender moment when the wonder of childhood innocence gives way to the harsh awakening of adult experience.

I was not familiar with either Perry Chafe or either of the TV shows he has written and produced, but when I heard about Closer by Sea, particularly the Newfoundland setting, I was intrigued. The friendship between three twelve-year-old boys and a new girl in town, a fishing village, and a missing teenager recall both Stephen King's novella, The Body, and Ray Bradbury's Dandelion Wine. I was quickly drawn into Chafe's story, curious to learn more about the mysterious Solomon and what he might be hiding about Anna's disappearance. This coming-of-age tale reads like a screenplay, and I could easily envision the friends stumbling about the island, searching for clues (and evidence of a possible murder) in a creepy, dark, ramshackle of a building. Throw in a budding crush, a gang of bullies, teenage angst, and a mysterious stranger, and you've got what suddenly feels like a juvenile or YA novel. The narrative begins to lose momentum halfway in, but with less than a total of 300 pages, it wasn't a struggle to keep reading. Good, but not great literature.