Recent Reviews
The Incendiaries by R.O. Kwon
This review appeared in the San Francisco Examiner on July 26, 2019
https://www.sfexaminer.com/entertainment/incendaries-a-gripping-tale-of-young-lost-souls/
R.O. Kwon’s gripping debut novel ‘The Incendiaries’ explores the psychic appeal of religious zealotry. With acute insight and imaginative structure, the book explores the emotional fragility of two college students as they stumble into adulthood.
Will Kendall and Phoebe Lin are California kids who meet at elite Edwards College in upstate New York. Both are burdened by prior personal crises that had altered the course of their lives. Soon after meeting, they start a relationship. By the story’s end, the police are interrogating Will about Phoebe’s involvement with a Christian cult responsible for bombing an abortion clinic. Five girls perished. Will narrates the story in a retrospective attempt to analyze his relationship with Phoebe and their harrowing first year at college. He writes to Phoebe, whose fate is unknown, “You once told me I hadn’t even tried to understand. So, here I am, trying.”
When Will was in junior high, his mother had descended into depression. He then became a Christian. Not just any Christian, but an evangelical Christian who proselytized for his faith at Fisherman’s Wharf. “I thought I was chosen by Christ. Hand-picked to preach His word.” But Will stopped believing, dropped out of his Bible College and transferred to Edwards. There, his life feels hollow.
Phoebe had been born in Korea, but had moved to Los Angeles with her mother. She became a piano prodigy. Despite rave reviews, she had quit. “I realized I’d rather have no talent than just enough to know how much I lacked.” She and her mother argued about her decision. One night Phoebe was driving and accidentally drifted into an oncoming truck. Her devoted mother died. It was a shattering loss for Phoebe; guilt compounded her anguish. At Edwards, she hides her suffering behind a cheerful façade.
Both Phoebe and Will had zealously pursued passions that had consumed their life energy and given them meaning. But the absence of those passionate pursuits, the loss of parents and the hiding of secrets haunt them. Phoebe moves in with Will and they experience both comfort and conflict. Later Phoebe drifts toward John Leal, a half-Korean Edwards College dropout and leader of a cult. Leal has a murky past. He brainwashes vulnerable students to become “radical for God.” The specific focus of his pathology is stopping abortions.
Phoebe and Will are flailing as they mourn the crumbled remnants of their young lives. They receive some solace from each other, but no adults are available to advise them. A grief counselor or family therapist might have comforted them and helped them find their way forward. Instead, that role is taken up by the cult. Phoebe fills her emptiness by joining Leal and his followers. With him, she receives both the punishment and absolution she seems to be seeking. Will doesn’t join but fills his void by obsessing about Phoebe and popping pills. Having just extricated himself from his evangelical past, he feels betrayed by Phoebe’s involvement with Leal and his radical Christian cult. But, Will reveals that he too is capable of violence.
Kwon’s bold prose, elliptical style and vivid characters make this novel engaging and provocative. Her language is evocative yet sparse. She clearly has empathy and compassion for those who are broken and damaged.
What gives this novel power is Will’s piecing together the factors he believes led to Phoebe’s participation in the abortion bombing. He reflects to the best of his ability. It would have been interesting if Kwon had set this story later. With the benefit of time and deeper psychological reflection, would Will have an even more in-depth view of Phoebe? Would he feel greater remorse for his role in the tragedy? The incendiaries in this novel are the lost and damaged students who take fateful steps down a violent path. We may not forgive them, but thanks to Kwon we better understand them.
The Good Mother by Sue Miller
Thirty years ago my four gal friends and I read Sue Miller’s gripping novel, The Good Mother. Not only did we read The Good Mother, we went to hear fellow Cambridgian Sue Miller speak at our local bookstore. Just out of grad school and starting new jobs, none of us were married and the idea of having kids barely discussed. Yet for a couple of weeks in the late 1980s, this book about a young divorced woman raising her daughter, dominated our conversations. We felt “grown-up” as we parsed Miller’s words and opined on the novel’s dramatic outcome.
Three months ago we decided to reread the novel. We have all been married to our husbands for close to thirty years and have ten kids between us. Rereading the book was like visiting our younger selves. This engaging and well-written novel hadn’t changed, but our views about the book had evolved. We all arrived at a more nuanced understanding and appreciation for the complexity of the story.
The Good Mother is about a young thirty-something woman named Anna Dunlap. She and her ex-husband, Brian, marry young and divorce young. Anna seems passive and unemotional about both her marriage and divorce. In an amicable process, Anna is awarded custody of their three-year old daughter Molly. Brian moves to Washington D.C. and marries a woman named Brenda.
Soon Anna falls for an aspiring artist named Leo Cutter whom she meets at a Porter Square laundry mat. Leo’s energy and intellect captivate Anna and they begin an intense relationship. With Leo, Anna discovers parts of herself that were previously unknown to her. Her sexual relationship with Leo is physically and emotionally fulfilling.
The book follows Anna‘s life as she attempts to balance her desire for her boyfriend Leo, her devotion to her daughter Molly and her work as a piano teacher and lab assistant. Anna, Leo and Molly settle into a sweet routine together in Cambridge. Anna says toward the end of the book, “We were all – Molly too-we were all happy. It was part of the new world he, my lover, opened up to me, where I was beautiful, sex together was beautiful, and Molly was part of our love, our life.”
When Molly tells her father Brian of an unusual encounter with Leo, chaos ensues. Before long, Anna needs to hire a lawyer as Brian will not listen or understand. Soon, a heartbreaking court battle for custody of Molly begins. The court scenes convey the harsh scrutiny and double standard women face in front of male judges
Miller’s book reveals the multi-faceted layers of feelings that exist in relationships and the extra burden placed on women who seek to fully embrace their dual roles as wives and mothers - lovers and caretakers.
Miller’s psychological insight is impressive. She details the most formative emotional events of Anna’s first twenty years as the only child of two distant parents. We comprehend how Anna arrives at this point in her life and how she responds to this tumultuous turn of events. Miller’s beautiful writing captures the intricacy and complexity of Anna’s encounters with Brain, Leo and Molly.
Now that I am in my mid-50s with three grown kids, I can better comprehend the complicated family dynamics. In addition, my strong opinion about Molly’s fate has softened.
Even still, I believe Anna Dunlap was a good mother.
Where The Crawdads Sing by Delia Owens
I had watched Where the Crawdads Sing stay steady on the New York Times bestseller list and I had heard the chorus of compliments from my friends and colleagues. So when my book club chose to read this debut novel by Delia Owens, my expectations were high. Owens did not disappoint. I read Where the Crawdads Sing in one weekend and felt transported to the lush marshes of the North Carolina coast.
The novel touches on many engaging themes, but fundamentally, the story is about a young girl’s resilience in the face of abandonment and loneliness. When Catherine Danielle Clark “Kya” is six years old, her Ma walks down the “sandy lane in high heels, her only going out pair.” Ma never returns to the family’s shack hidden in the marsh. One by one Kya’s siblings leave. They too want to escape dire poverty and their violent alcoholic father. Finally, when Kya is ten, her father goes fishing and does not return. Realizing that she is alone, she experiences shock and depression. Yet she perseveres. (Yes, this strains credulity. Didn’t Kya’s mom or siblings think to take her with them? And could Kya really live by herself? But keep going!)
Kya is smart and resourceful. She avoids the authorities and survives by cooking grits, catching fish and paying close attention to the rhythms of the marsh. A kind African-American man named Jumpin’ and his wife Mabel help Kya whenever she docks her boat at their bait and gas shop. From their own encounters with discrimination, they know the Barkley Cove locals either ignore or ostracize those who are different. The residents call Kya “swamp trash”.
The marsh serves as both the setting and a character in the novel. Kya watches eagles soar, herons fish, butterflies glide and fish spawn. She comes to view the seagulls as her friends and the marsh as a surrogate mother. She studies the tides, the stars and the animal and plant life that surround her. “Nature seemed the only stone that would not slip midstream.”
In her late teens, Kya comes to love Tate Walker, a gentle young man who was friends with her brother Jodie. With tenderness, he teaches Kya to read and listens to her feelings. “For the first time since Ma and Jodie left, she breathed without pain.” Yet Tate leaves for college and once again Kya is left alone. Seeking solace, she spends time with a vulnerable, yet unreliable young man named Chase Andrews. Kya wonders, “How much do you trade to defeat loneliness?”When Chase is found dead, the townspeople suspect Kya. A major strand of the novel follows the investigation into Chase’s death.
Owens’ novel captivates because she shows the evolution of Kya’s inner life. We see Kya’s intellect grow and her emotions expand. She finds solace in poetry, art and books. As I turned the pages, I found myself rooting for Kya and hoping that she might experience some peace and even a little happiness.
With lyricism and reverence, Owens’love of the natural world enriches every page. She creates a spiritual atmosphere with her rich descriptions of the moon, tides, sky, lagoons, sand and mosses of the marsh. Kya’s development is shaped by the trauma of her youth and softened by the rhythms of the marsh. Despite her loneliness and isolation, Kya perseveres. Owen’ insight and sensitivity allow us to witness the subtle and not so subtle adaptations to Kya’s personality and emotional life.
Where The Crawdads Singtouched my heart despite my mind’s doubts. Maybe the novel has resonated with millions of readers (including me) because it illuminates that we are all shaped by the children we once were.
