Gilead by Marilynne Robinson (Millie)

 

Marilynne Robinson's book, Gilead, won the Pulitzer prize for fiction in 2004 and has been on my to read list for quite some time. (Not since 2004, but for some time.) Though I read her first book, Houskeeping, and liked it a lot, when I read reviews of Gilead, I was put off by quite a few negative reviews I read on Amazon.  The main complaints were that it was slow, wasn't plot driven, and that it was too religious.  As it turns out, I liked those things about it.

Gilead is set in Gilead, Iowa in 1956 with the minister, John Ames, facing death from heart disease. He has a young wife and son whom he loves deeply and decides to leave his son a family history.  Since his son is only 7, he knows he will not remember much about him and he wants his son to know him and how much he loved him and his wife, the boy's mother.  He decides to write a letter to be read when the son is older.

  

His rambling letter was a little slow moving the story along, but I loved the things he wrote.  They were about such simple, but real, moments in his life, and since he knew he didn't have long to live, he savored them.  It made me want to really observe and feel the simple things in life with a little more intensity and reverence and clarity.  Intensity and reverence don't seem to go together, but somehow, that's how his observations struck me.

As his writings start to include his remembrances and dealings with the family of his life-long friend, Old Boughton, the pace of the plot picks up.  He struggles as he writes about the "black sheep" of the Boughton family, Jack.  Clearly, he has negative feelings about him for a number of reasons, but he so wants to treat him with Christian charity.  This struggle shows the depth of John Ames's goodness and at the same time, the weaknesses he contended with.  Although he was a preacher, and there were scripture quotations a plenty, it did not seem "preachy" to me.  

There was an extensive review of the book in the New York Times, you might enjoy reading.  I read it after I read the book and it explained and clarified thoughts and feelings that I found hard to explain after reading it.  

I listened to the audio version of this book and thought the reader was excellent. His narration added dynamics to the story and maybe that is why I didn't find it super slow as some other readers did.  The only drawback to the audio version is that you can't mark or re-read passages and phrases that you love.  I might just have to buy the printed version too.

Here is an excerpt that was part of the review I mentioned above.  I think it gives you a little taste of the book and John Ames:

  The Church at Dawn

It's a plain old church and it could use a coat of paint. But in the dark times I used to walk over before sunrise just to sit there and watch the light come into that room. I don't know how beautiful it might seem to anyone else. I felt much at peace those mornings, praying over very dreadful things sometimes -- the Depression, the wars. There was a lot of misery for people around here, decades of it. But prayer brings peace, as I trust you know.

In those days, as I have said, I might spend most of a night reading. Then, if I woke up still in my armchair, and if the clock said four or five, I'd think how pleasant it was to walk through the streets in the dark and let myself into the church and watch dawn come in the sanctuary. I loved the sound of the latch lifting. The building has settled into itself so that when you walk down the aisle, you can hear it yielding to the burden of your weight. It's a pleasanter sound than an echo would be, an obliging, accommodating sound. You have to be there alone to hear it. Maybe it can't feel the weight of a child. But if it is still standing when you read this, and if you are not half a world away, sometime you might go there alone, just to see what I mean. After a while I did begin to wonder if I liked the church better with no people in it. . . .

In the old days I could walk down every single street, past every house, in about an hour. I'd try to remember the people who lived in each one, and whatever I knew about them, which was often quite a lot. . . . And I'd pray for them. And I'd imagine peace they didn't expect and couldn't account for descending on their illness or their quarreling or their dreams. Then I'd go into the church and pray some more and wait for daylight. I've often been sorry to see a night end, even while I have loved seeing the dawn come.

Trees sound different at night, and they smell different too. 

So, for me it was a 4 star book, but I realize this slower pace is not for everyone.  I think it's the kind of book you will really like or really not like, but I doubt there will be too many on the fence about this one.