"Tell Me Everything," by Elizabeth Strout

Last time (10/24/24) I wrote about how I (like most readers) watch out for new fiction by my favorite authors. One of the authors whose new writing I eagerly await is Elizabeth Strout. She has created a world of overlapping characters (e.g., Olive Kitteridge, Lucy Barton, Bob Burgess) in her various novels; very often a character from one book suddenly pops up in a subsequent book. The novels are set in Maine, and contain a fascinating variety of highly original, sometimes eccentric, and very recognizable characters (which, when you think about it, is a real feat). With each novel, the reader feels further and further drawn into the world of these characters in this geographical area. I was excited to read Strout's latest, "Tell Me Everything" (Random House, 2024), and it turned out to be, in my opinion, the best of her novels, and that is saying a lot. Strout's writing is always fresh, crisp, and often surprising. Even more than in the earlier novels, the portrayal of the characters in "Tell Me Everything," and of how they face the many facets of life, is utterly immersive and deeply humane. I highly recommend this absorbing, moving novel. -----------------

On New Books by Favorite Authors, such as "The Wren, The Wren," by Anne Enright

Like many readers, I am always excited when I see that one of my favorite authors has a new, or very recent, book out. I usually make a note, and as soon as possible, either put the title on my local library's waiting list, or buy the book. Of course I can't be absolutely sure that because the author is a favorite, I will like every book she or he has written. A quick glance at reviews generally gives me a good idea of whether I want to read the book or not; usually I do want to read it, and look forward to it with great anticipation. Lately I have been fortunate to note that a lovely outpouring of several books in this category have appeared: new books by authors I admire/enjoy, with whom I often have a long history. The most recent of these is "The Wren, The Wren," (Norton, 2023) by the wonderful Irish writer Anne Enright, whose novel "The Gathering" (2007) first drew me to her work. The current very woman-centered novel, "The Wren, The Wren," focuses on three generations of women, but the women, and the story, are always somewhat overshadowed by the family patriarch, a famous Irish poet who generally focuses on what is best for himself. The characters are vivid, their relationships perceptively portrayed; the author's psychological insights are sharp and clear; the writing is distinctive and compelling; and readers are reminded of the great gift this writer is to us.

"Faith Fox," and Other Fiction by Jane Gardam

Jane Gardam is the kind of author, somewhat well-known but not famous, at least in the United States (the Baltimore Sun opines that "Jane Gardam has been a secret too well kept from American readers"), that a reader who discovers her is knocked over by her originality, astringent tone, and incisiveness. Her most famous books are a trilogy of novels ("Old Filth," "The Man in the Wooden Hat," and "Last Friends") that is set in British colonial and then postcolonial locales, such as, in particular, Hong Kong. The stories travel back and forth in the history of the main characters. The books focus on the British expatriates who served in various capacities in the countries of the British Empire, including their individual histories before such service and their years of reminiscences afterward. The main characters are Edward Feathers, his wife Betty, and her secret lover Terry Veneering. Each of the three books focuses on one of these three characters, but all three circle around the same events from their various perspectives. The characters and plot are of great interest, and even more so in the context of this fraught colonial enterprise. (This latter is perhaps of particular personal interest to me, since my childhood was spent as an expat in the barely postcolonial period in India.) All of this is to say that after reading this trilogy some years ago, I read a few more of Gardam's novels (see my posts of 3/8/10, 6/3/12, 6/22/13, 9/19/14, 1/8/18), always with great interest and admiration. I have just read her 1996 novel, "Faith Fox" (Carroll and Graf), which its front flap calls a comedy of manners. I agree that it is, but it is more than that. The characters are expertly portrayed, and the story is full of humor, yes, but also pathos. I don't feel that this novel quite compares with the brilliance and depth of the (published slightly later) "Old Filth" trilogy, but the intentions of the author for the two books were clearly different. I highly recommend all of Gardam's books that I have read, including "Faith Fox," but the "Old Filth" novels are the pinnacle of her brilliant writing.

"Old Lovegood Girls," by Gail Godwin

"Old Lovegood Girls" is the most recent novel by one of my favorite writers (see my posts of 6/7/13, 8/22/15, and, very recently, 9/15/24, although these represent only some of the Godwin books I have read). The title refers to the young women at a somewhat posh, traditional, and yet, in a low-key and "proper" way, feminist women's junior college in 1958, and follows the intertwined and complicated stories, over a period of decades, of two of these young women who become friends, as well as the related stories of other students of faculty members, of family members, and of lovers and spouses. The novel addresses questions of women's friendship, social class, family, romances, marriages and other life events. There are also some secrets and surprises, some of which are life-changing. I am drawn to stories of women's friendships, and Godwin, as always, shows her knowledge of human psychology, especially women's psychology. As with all her books, this novel is beautifully written, compelling, and revelatory.

"Four Squares," by Bobby Finger

After reading and enjoying Bobby Finger's first novel, "The Old Place," in 2022, I was interested to read his new one, "Four Squares" (Putnam, 2024), and I was not disappointed. The main character, Artie, a gay man in New York City during the time after the height of AIDS but still under its heavy shadow, is in some ways introverted and self-sufficient, but sometimes feels, and regrets, that he has few friends. But those few, and the regulars at a local bar, give him increased community, connection, and support. The story alternates between 1992 and 2022, thus tracing the arc of Artie's relationships with lovers, chosen family members, and friends. Of course there are some tangled relationships and some secrets and surprises. But the overall tone of the novel is positive, hopeful and life affirming.

A Personal Note: On the Profound Consolations of Books

First, as an introduction to the main topic of this post, I want to do something I have not done before on this blog: to re-post one of my earlier posts on this blog. Posted here on 12/26/16, it is still very meaningful to me: "I loved seeing Susan Chira’s short piece, “The Comforts of Jane,” in the Christmas Day 2016 issue of The New York Times Book Review. She writes there of how in a difficult, painful, and stress-filled time (“when the life of someone I loved was hanging in the balance”), she “turned to reading for solace,” and found the perfect book to (re)read was Jane Austen’s novel “Pride and Prejudice.” She says that because she already knew the plot, she “could savor the language, satire and repartee, the cutting observations…Austen was irresistible.” She adds, “I wanted escape, but I needed moral resonance.” She goes on to describe all the reasons that this beloved novel was the perfect consolation and companion during the crisis she was living through. Fortunately her story ended well, as “life righted itself.” She, like most Austen devotees, including me, continues to re-read Austen’s novels, and always remembers “how grateful I remain for the comfort I found in her pages.” Regular readers of this blog know how central Austen’s novels have been to my own reading life, so you will understand how I definitely appreciated and connected to Chira’s story." Now I have had particular occasion to need consolations, after the illness and death of my beloved husband in late 2021. My greatest consolations have been good memories and the loving support of my family and friends. In addition, in the days-in-days-out of these harshly changed days, months, and years, one of the consolations I can most rely on is reading, especially novels and memoirs. They are almost a medicine, as well as a welcome distraction, a source of absorption, a pleasure, a support. In short, my longtime friends, books, are a reliable and ever-available source of consolation, one that I lean on more than ever, and one for which I am tremendously grateful.

"Getting to Know Death: A Meditation," by Gail Godwin

For decades, I have read, admired, learned from, and enjoyed Gail Godwin's contemplative, psychologically insightful novels (the best known of which is probably "The Odd Woman"), most of them well before I began this blog in 2010. However, I did write here about the most recent one, "Flora," on 6/7/13. I also wrote a post about Godwin's useful and revealing "Publishing: A Writer's Memoir" (8/22/15). Her very recent book, "Getting to Know Death" (Bloomsbury, 2024), is short (172 pages) but intense, describing her experiences with and feelings about age, serious illnesses and injuries (including, most prominently and frighteningly, her recent fall that caused a broken neck, and her ensuing long and difficult period of recovery), the deaths of people close to her (including her husband), and, now in her mid-eighties, the prospect of her own death. Although the author is candid and courageous in dealing with all of these difficult events, the book is less depressing that this description might suggest. It is not exactly "inspirational" either, but is matter of fact, thoughtful, and life affirming. It is divided into many short chapters, some on her personal history, some expressing doubts about her own ability to keep writing, some meditating on death, some reproducing or creating letters to and from the author, some quoting other authors, and a few unclassifiable pieces of writing. I wasn't sure how I would feel about this book, with its sensitive and difficult topics, or whether I would even want to finish it, but because of my admiration of Godwin, and because once I started reading it I was drawn in, I continued to the end, and am glad I did so.