What do you think?
Rate this book
Hezada! I Miss You
The last Midwestern traveling circus is due to arrive in a rural village it has visited for a century of summers. Like the village, the circus is on its last leg. It’s down to one elephant and a handful of acrobats. The circus boss’s sweetheart is dying. The former starring act is recovering from cancer. The assistant, Frank, plans to retire after this show. Meanwhile, twins Heza and Abe wander the hot fields and roads, waiting for the circus or anything better. Hezada! I Miss You is a novel that explores tradition, love, and suicide—set under the fading tents of small-town America and the circus.
- GenresFiction
348 pages, Paperback
Published February 9, 2020
1 person is currently reading
66 people want to read
About the author
Erin Pringle
11 books48 followersOriginally from the rural Midwest, Erin Pringle now lives in Northwest with her partner, Heather, and son, Henry. She's the author of a novel, Hezada! I Miss You (2020) and two story collections, The Whole World at Once (2017) and The Floating Order (2009). She received an Artist Trust Fellowship (2012) and was named a finalist in the Kore Press Short Fiction Award (2012). Other honors regarding her work include four Pushcart Nominations, being shortlisted for a Charles Pick Fellowship, and named a Notable Best American Non-Required Reading.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews
December 31, 2019
Beautiful. Startling. True. One of the most vivid scenes will haunt me for life, and anyone who has experience great loss in such an abrupt way will gasp in recognition. Such a gorgeous novel.
March 17, 2020
I read this book in 4 days. I’ve thought of nothing but this book for 4 days. I’m still thinking about this book. I wish I could forget it right away so that I can reread it and experience everything I did while reading it again.
This novel is unique in many ways. I’ve read many fiction and non-fiction books about suicide, and this book treats the topic like no other. It’s rare to find the perspective of suicide survivors in a novel, when most others talk about the suicide victims.
The writing is graceful, elegant, inviting and absorbing. Pringle’s writing style invites you into the book and keeps you there, even as it tears your soul to shreds. At some point towards the end I was scared that the novel would leave me emotionally devastated, but I was left instead with a peaceful sense of closure. It’s like I went through grief but I emerged out of it feeling strong and peaceful. It’s a bizarre feeling. It’s a beautiful feeling.
I’ve read other novels about small-town America, but this portrayal of the Midwest was so nuanced, so honest. It depicted the terrible things people do to each other, while reminding the readers of why they do them — because of how difficult and devastating their life is. Not excusing them. Not judging anyone. Just an honest portrayal of people’s lives in clear, poetic prose.
This book will stay with me for a long time. It is so rare to have this experience while reading. Thank you to Erin Pringle for writing it, and to Awst Press for publishing it. I’m glad I came across it and I would recommend it to everyone.
This novel is unique in many ways. I’ve read many fiction and non-fiction books about suicide, and this book treats the topic like no other. It’s rare to find the perspective of suicide survivors in a novel, when most others talk about the suicide victims.
The writing is graceful, elegant, inviting and absorbing. Pringle’s writing style invites you into the book and keeps you there, even as it tears your soul to shreds. At some point towards the end I was scared that the novel would leave me emotionally devastated, but I was left instead with a peaceful sense of closure. It’s like I went through grief but I emerged out of it feeling strong and peaceful. It’s a bizarre feeling. It’s a beautiful feeling.
I’ve read other novels about small-town America, but this portrayal of the Midwest was so nuanced, so honest. It depicted the terrible things people do to each other, while reminding the readers of why they do them — because of how difficult and devastating their life is. Not excusing them. Not judging anyone. Just an honest portrayal of people’s lives in clear, poetic prose.
This book will stay with me for a long time. It is so rare to have this experience while reading. Thank you to Erin Pringle for writing it, and to Awst Press for publishing it. I’m glad I came across it and I would recommend it to everyone.
May 29, 2020
In her first novel, Hezada! I Miss You, Erin Pringle picks up on themes explored in her two short story collections, in particular the second book, The Whole World at Once, and investigates them in a more sustained and thoughtful manner.
A small town in the American Midwest struggles to survive. Half the stores in town have gone out of business, people have to drive to a distant mall to purchase many of the basics, and the dropping population of children means those that do live there have to travel to the next town over to go to school. Various initiatives proposed by the village council to boost visitor numbers and encourage inhabitants to stay all come to nothing. Research into what other towns do to survive leaves them despondent.
The ones that seemed to thrive resembled ceramic Christmas villages on fuzzy white felt, with their pleasant lighting, stores of organic vegetables, few but friendly taverns all named TAVERN, a shop selling wind chimes, windsocks, full-price hardback children’s books, and wire racks of postcards featuring historic pictures of the village.
The one ray of sunshine in the year’s calendar, however, is a travelling circus that lands in the town as its last stop on a circuit that takes in a large chunk of the Midwest. It’s a century-long tradition that the town’s inhabitants set great store by and Pringle examines the powerful links between the town and the circus through the stories of several characters.
Frank, a circus performer now too old to play a part in the attractions and acts, hauls the circus tents and equipment between the towns and helps with set-up and breakdown, ticket sales, etc. He dreams of the glory days when the circus had a full band, and a much larger number of animals and performers. Gradually, over the years, cuts have had to be made, and the circus is a shadow of its former self, mirroring the fortunes of the town.
Even if a circus still did travel the entire country, it would look like this one. Fewer everything. One elephant. One or two tightrope walkers. A handful of acrobats. A quartet of clowns. One tattooed woman.
Kae works in the town’s thrift store and her friends, more acquaintances than friends, work in the diner, where she used to work before she had twins, Heza and Abe. The one person she could call a friend is away at college. She wonders at how her life could have taken a different turn if a near deadly encounter with a circus ‘Summer Boy’ had never happened or happened differently.
If Kae hadn’t applied at the diner-
Or if it hadn’t been her shift-
Or it was her shift, sure, and so she was waiting outside the diner when the red truck killed her-
Or didn’t kill her-
Or if she worked at the diner, nearly her shift, she stood on the sidewalk, but she took off that yellow dress? Right there, unbuttoning the three pearl buttons, lifting it above her hips, over her head, just like she often imagined doing in the middle of church – how everyone would gasp and faint while her mother covered her with the church bulletin and rushed her from the sanctuary-
We also see the town and the circus through the eyes of Kae’s twins, people working at the diner, customers at the thrift store, and several of the circus workers and performers, including Hezada, a former trapeze artist, whose battle with cancer has rendered her unable to be a part of the show anymore.
A catastrophic event halfway through the novel suddenly throws everything into sharp relief and the ache of unfulfilled lives turns to a grief of a more severe nature as people search for answers to how such a thing could have happened. The struggle for understanding is the struggle to find ways to accommodate the different levels of grief into everyday life, surprisingly easy for some, impossible for others. And in the background is the continued slow death of the town and the circus, while spectators and performers alike look to show time at the circus for a lifeline, a brief enough interval that forms a centre to their lives.
Everyone waits along the road as we raise the tents. They wait for us to flick on the lights around the ticket booth, the ticket sellers to flip up the blinds and lean forward so you can buy tickets to the first show before it’s sold out, but it’s always sold out, so you buy tickets for the second, third, fourth show, the whole second day of shows because it’s only once a year, the circus, so you buy all the shows, every day of shows, ready to get sick on shows and candy and women unlike the women you know because they’re painted, in sequins, up high above everyone, bare feet, bare legs. You haven’t waited just hours for the circus, you’ve waited all fall, all winter, every spring day, hour, second since your life ended when the circus left last summer. Your whole life has been waiting to begin again, and all it takes is a ticket.
At once a hymn to a quality of life that has long since passed and a realisation of today’s harsh realities, Hezada! I Miss You is ultimately a cry against the sublimation of small town America and its values to a soulless and corporatised America.
A small town in the American Midwest struggles to survive. Half the stores in town have gone out of business, people have to drive to a distant mall to purchase many of the basics, and the dropping population of children means those that do live there have to travel to the next town over to go to school. Various initiatives proposed by the village council to boost visitor numbers and encourage inhabitants to stay all come to nothing. Research into what other towns do to survive leaves them despondent.
The ones that seemed to thrive resembled ceramic Christmas villages on fuzzy white felt, with their pleasant lighting, stores of organic vegetables, few but friendly taverns all named TAVERN, a shop selling wind chimes, windsocks, full-price hardback children’s books, and wire racks of postcards featuring historic pictures of the village.
The one ray of sunshine in the year’s calendar, however, is a travelling circus that lands in the town as its last stop on a circuit that takes in a large chunk of the Midwest. It’s a century-long tradition that the town’s inhabitants set great store by and Pringle examines the powerful links between the town and the circus through the stories of several characters.
Frank, a circus performer now too old to play a part in the attractions and acts, hauls the circus tents and equipment between the towns and helps with set-up and breakdown, ticket sales, etc. He dreams of the glory days when the circus had a full band, and a much larger number of animals and performers. Gradually, over the years, cuts have had to be made, and the circus is a shadow of its former self, mirroring the fortunes of the town.
Even if a circus still did travel the entire country, it would look like this one. Fewer everything. One elephant. One or two tightrope walkers. A handful of acrobats. A quartet of clowns. One tattooed woman.
Kae works in the town’s thrift store and her friends, more acquaintances than friends, work in the diner, where she used to work before she had twins, Heza and Abe. The one person she could call a friend is away at college. She wonders at how her life could have taken a different turn if a near deadly encounter with a circus ‘Summer Boy’ had never happened or happened differently.
If Kae hadn’t applied at the diner-
Or if it hadn’t been her shift-
Or it was her shift, sure, and so she was waiting outside the diner when the red truck killed her-
Or didn’t kill her-
Or if she worked at the diner, nearly her shift, she stood on the sidewalk, but she took off that yellow dress? Right there, unbuttoning the three pearl buttons, lifting it above her hips, over her head, just like she often imagined doing in the middle of church – how everyone would gasp and faint while her mother covered her with the church bulletin and rushed her from the sanctuary-
We also see the town and the circus through the eyes of Kae’s twins, people working at the diner, customers at the thrift store, and several of the circus workers and performers, including Hezada, a former trapeze artist, whose battle with cancer has rendered her unable to be a part of the show anymore.
A catastrophic event halfway through the novel suddenly throws everything into sharp relief and the ache of unfulfilled lives turns to a grief of a more severe nature as people search for answers to how such a thing could have happened. The struggle for understanding is the struggle to find ways to accommodate the different levels of grief into everyday life, surprisingly easy for some, impossible for others. And in the background is the continued slow death of the town and the circus, while spectators and performers alike look to show time at the circus for a lifeline, a brief enough interval that forms a centre to their lives.
Everyone waits along the road as we raise the tents. They wait for us to flick on the lights around the ticket booth, the ticket sellers to flip up the blinds and lean forward so you can buy tickets to the first show before it’s sold out, but it’s always sold out, so you buy tickets for the second, third, fourth show, the whole second day of shows because it’s only once a year, the circus, so you buy all the shows, every day of shows, ready to get sick on shows and candy and women unlike the women you know because they’re painted, in sequins, up high above everyone, bare feet, bare legs. You haven’t waited just hours for the circus, you’ve waited all fall, all winter, every spring day, hour, second since your life ended when the circus left last summer. Your whole life has been waiting to begin again, and all it takes is a ticket.
At once a hymn to a quality of life that has long since passed and a realisation of today’s harsh realities, Hezada! I Miss You is ultimately a cry against the sublimation of small town America and its values to a soulless and corporatised America.
May 5, 2020
This is a book that stays with you long after you've put it down. Intensely emotional.
September 19, 2020
Beautiful and devastating. This is an honest, intimate portrayal of a small town and circus in decline, and the tragedy of suicide from the perspective of those left behind.
I will carry this with me for a long time. Reading the four word chapters... I was undone. Utterly heartbroken.
I will carry this with me for a long time. Reading the four word chapters... I was undone. Utterly heartbroken.
May 15, 2022
Powerful, poetic and bruta-fully sad! The imagery is phenomenal, the characters are so real and vulnerable. I was transported to this small town and didn't want to leave, but also felt like I'd always lived there. Definitely left me wanting more, but in a way that saying goodbye to a good friend after a wonderful conversation leaves me. Feeling content and happy, but thinking about what was said for days. Definitely going to be sharing this book with all the readers i know!!
January 24, 2021
So much more than a book about a circus, this story weaves together love and tradition and the heartbreaking tragedy of suicide. The story follows Abe and Heza, twin children in love with the circus that arrives in their small town every summer, their mother, a thrift store owner with her own circus history, Frank, a soon to be retired circus worker, and a circus that’s down to one elephant and a few acrobats.
Be warned, there are no quotation marks used in this book. I found it a little difficult at first, but as you keep reading it becomes easier and adds to the tone of conversations. I was not expecting to have my heart shattered by this story but here we are. The topic of suicide is a delicate one to write about, and the writer does this beautiful job of giving the perspectives of everyone involved with inner dialogues and what-if conversations that are so heartbreakingly real I had to read through tears. It’s a gorgeous portrait of small town living, with real, nuanced characters, and a circus that dives deep into every reader’s memories of their childhood circus experiences.
Be warned, there are no quotation marks used in this book. I found it a little difficult at first, but as you keep reading it becomes easier and adds to the tone of conversations. I was not expecting to have my heart shattered by this story but here we are. The topic of suicide is a delicate one to write about, and the writer does this beautiful job of giving the perspectives of everyone involved with inner dialogues and what-if conversations that are so heartbreakingly real I had to read through tears. It’s a gorgeous portrait of small town living, with real, nuanced characters, and a circus that dives deep into every reader’s memories of their childhood circus experiences.
December 2, 2020
Buy Erin's book for yourself for Christmas. Buy one for a friend. Not me, though. I already have it. And, it's fantastic in a sad and troubling and dreamy sort of strange yet familiar way.
Her work reminds me of Flannery O'Connor and Shirley Jackson. It's lovely and creepy and you'll think about it for days.
You should also buy The Floating Order, while you're at it. Read "Why Jimmy" last. You'll thank me later.
Her work reminds me of Flannery O'Connor and Shirley Jackson. It's lovely and creepy and you'll think about it for days.
You should also buy The Floating Order, while you're at it. Read "Why Jimmy" last. You'll thank me later.
December 15, 2020
Heartbreaking and beautiful, this book places the weighty issue of suicide against the background of a circus on its final legs for a read that is memorable and unique. Pringle's style is poetic, making each page a pleasure. Unlike many books with death as a central theme, this one is not overdone-it gets at the tumultuous feelings that come with the passing of a loved one without trying to overanalyze or preach. The Midwestern setting and powerful imagery will stick with the reader long after this quick read is finished.
May 23, 2025
Perfectly hazy and nostalgic little vignettes, alluring little side characters with their melancholic little lives, with enough left unsaid and handed over to the imagination. mwah
Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews