This book is a lyrical pleasure to read, a longer poem as much as it is a narrative, based around a search for balance. While it travels between first and third person, and moves back and forth in time and place, the brief effort to orient myself chapter to chapter quickly became simply a the way of reading. In fact, the movement presents life the way it is – always alive simultaneously in both present time and in memory. It is this moving that allows the narrator to marry for the reader a depth of current-day observation with the immediacy of past experience, lightening the weight of sorrow and pain as we watch the story unfold.
The book begins with a birth complication that foretells continual threats through the child’s life. We know, from the beginning, that life will end too soon. As it unfolds, the story layers in the love and joy with its companions of violence and death.
The first child, a daughter, appears from time to time to show how the narrator’s life holds within it the possibility for balance, hinting at the redemption. Friends bring both their generosity and need to the narrator’s life, adding in a more gentle sense of normal. In the end, it is engaging with a friend in need that leads the narrator to the pathway to healing. This adventure brings the friend from a southern clime into the healing cold of northern Canada, and the narrator in return accompanies her friend to an annual ceremony in the southern heat of Dakota. Despite the narrator’s frail condition, following the death of her son, she allows herself to be drawn into a “heated encounter” that shakes and ultimately restores her.
My only quarrel with the book is that the author spends too little time on the stages of redemption. While the potential for it is layered into the whole narrative, the end story feels more like a summary, a narrative telling that diminishes the strength of it, feeling more like an add-on.
That said, it is a strong story, where the inevitability of generations of sorrow is able to be released; where moving on becomes possible. Occasionally the language becomes abrupt, but overall the language is, for the most part, an immediate telling that carries a strong and moving story.