(6/19/2020)
The past should usefully inform the present but all memory, more often reimagined memory, should be handled as if fragile. The novel is all about the fragility and foibles of human connection and disconnection. McCorkle shows delicate sensibilities with her subject matter.
She reveals how trauma can shred trust, with far-reaching consequence. The author deftly employs a variety of forms showing our (often strangled) attempts to better understand ourselves and others, to better trust and be trusted, to be better loved and appreciated.
A myriad of collected objects, recalled events, and reimagined memories evoke sensory overload, at first, but together they become useful triggers to stir up the sediments in the reader's own past.
I liked the flux of unresolved tensions stretched among good and bad memories, as nuanced in each of the principals. I also liked the author's treatment of personal bonds and relationships developed, broken, then repaired and remolded when they were better understood.
The metaphor of home, where life is secure and firm, is invoked in a number of ways. All roads lead home, as voiced by one of the mothers, might not be a truism … but it is appropriate to consider: what if "going back home" is a real and realistic human desire. What if we understand ourselves better when we are authentically connected through the trust of loving home and family.