Last night I was updating my list of completed reads and I could not remember the book I finished Tuesday night. I thought long and hard, went through my journal where I take reading notes (none there), tried to trigger my memory but I couldn’t come up with the title or even what the book was about. I do read a lot and this has happened before but I can generally come with something to go from but I was truly stuck. Unfortunately the book made so little impact on me either positively or negatively that it didn’t register in my mind in any shape or form. Fortunately I eventually found the library printout from the checkout – the book was Neighborhood Watch by Cammie McGovern. I generally like mysteries and I like books about secrets but I felt this particular book did not live up to the quote found inside: “All of us carried secrets inside of us, ticking like bombs waiting to detonate.” It was in one word – forgettable.
Not so Gilead (reviewed below). Gilead is definitely not forgettable and I found myself thinking about the book quite a bit since I finished it. Although my reading of the book felt ponderous I could recognize the book was very well written. As I went through my journal I found I had written down several passages which I reread. I then picked the book up and leafed through it again reading random passages out loud. How did I not see the contrast between the author’s descriptions of the drought and its impact both on the towns and to the individuals who lived through it with evocative dazzling descriptions of water. The narrator frequently talks about baptism as well as scatters other references to water throughout his long letter to his son.
Sometimes I have loved the peacefulness of an ordinary Sunday. It is like standing in a newly planted garden after a warm rain. You feel the silent and invisible life. All it needs from you is that you take care not to trample on it. And that was such a quiet day, rain on the roof, rain against the windows, and everyone grateful, since it seems we never do have quite enough rain. (p. 20)
The Sprinkler is a magnificent invention because it exposes raindrops to sunshine…well but you two are dancing around in your iridescent little downpour, whooping and stomping as sane people ought to do when they encounter a thing so miraculous as water. (p. 65)
I had a dream once that Broughton and I were down by the river looking around in the shallows for something or other…and my Grandfather stalked out of the trees in that furious way he had, scooped his hat full of water, and threw it so a sheet of water came sailing towards us…and left us standing there in that glistening river, amazed at ourselves and shinning like Apostles. (p. 203)
I am sure there are other parts of the book I missed as well. As I said before, this was not the time for me to read this book. Sometimes that happens, even with really good books. And unlike Neighborhood Watch, Gilead is a really good book. It is a book is one that lingers in your mind – you think about phrases; you think about themes; you think about what the author was trying to say. A good book is one that pops into your thoughts at random times; that paints a picture, like children playing in a sprinkler, that will stay with you.
Lastly – I am thoroughly entranced by Virgina Woolf’s The Waves which I am reading for one of my book groups.
Reflections from the Hinterland 
[…] Gilead by Marilynne Robinson […]