(7/3/2020)
I marveled, while reading this book, about the extraordinary talent of Jill McCorkle, the author. Still, it was not an easy book to read during the isolating time of the pandemic. Much of this book is so sad. McCorkle writes about an elderly couple, Lil and Frank, and a young woman, Shelley, and her son Harvey. She tells the story in their thoughts and words. Lil and Frank were deeply wounded during their childhoods by the loss of a parent. Shelley's childhood was horrific and her young son develops an obsession with horrible stories.
The sadness of the book is offset by the beautiful prose. The author creates characters, especially Lil, who become real to the reader. After her mother died Lil's father would not have a Christmas tree. The child, Lil, looked at a beautiful tree in the window of a home she walked by on her way to school. "...it became my tree and was a bright spot in my day." But January and February passed and the tree still stood. Lil: it was a lesson to me how hanging on to something long after the fact can diminish the power of what was. It's where memory comes in, I guess, the abstract strength of what is no longer there..."
This is a beautifully thoughtful book.