Carolyn Piper
Copyright 2002
The Lovely Bones
Alice Sebold
Little Brown & Company; 2002
There are books and there are books. Without books, I read newspapers, magazine and, at times, in sheer desperation, have been known to grab a nearby cereal box. I admit it. I am addicted to the written word in all of its shapes and forms, drawing the line only at woman's magazines and romance novels which fail to spark any interest in me whatsoever.
But then there are books which are--well, BOOKS. They are the ones which, when we see them nested on a bookshelf we want to reach out for a second and caress as we might greet a close close friend--with the warmth of acknowledgement for what they mean to us. Not long ago I wrote about Barbara Kingsolver's The Poisonwood Bible. A couple years ago I urged you all to read Expecting Adam by Martha Beck. Both of these books have become a part of who I am. They have changed in some deep way who I am. Now, almost miraculously--for a book that strikes us this deeply surely is a miracle, they are joined by The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold.
I am almost at a loss for words here, and am tempted simply to tell you to read this book. Right now! Immediately! And then put it with your most treasured tomes to be taken out again and again. However, I shall attempt to pull myself together and try to explain why Sebold's novel reverberates so strongly for me. Bear with me should I get too lyrical, for this is something very very special.
Susie Salmon, who narrates the novel, is 14 years old and on her way home from school one evening when she is accosted, raped and murdered by a neighbor. This is a tough way to begin a novel. It is a very very hard first chapter to read. But read it you must, for this event forms the heart of the story. Once past this grueling beginning, the story continues as told by Susie from "her heaven." Watching the events unfold, it is almost impossible not to become Susie; enfolded into her emotions as she observes the ensuing events and emotions of her family, friends and town which follow her disappearance. It is also impossible not to be horrified, moved to tears, purr like a cat on a warm sun drenched windowsill, and ultimately, assured of the meaning and importance of the opportunity we are given by the gift of being human. Using death as a subject, the author has quite simply written a hymn of praise to life.
Like most exceptional books this one asks some hard questions of us. The most crucial being: what is important in our lives and how should we live them? With this book those questions are but the beginning. One could go on and on. What does life mean? What IS life? Who and WHAT are we? Why do we hurt each other with ease and with little thought as to what we are doing? The questions seem interminable--silently reverberating endlessly in the background, as the author to the end refuses to let us off the hook with easy answers.
And yet, despite the seriousness of it all, the sheer tragedy of the initial event, there is humor and love and laughter right along with the pain--just as there is in life itself. I wouldn't have thought you could pull off a subject like this without becoming sappy at the least, and ridiculous at the worst. It certainly would be easy to turn this subject matter into a muddle of epic sophomoric proportions. But Sebold manages to avoid almost any false step, providing in the process not only a fascinating read, but a unusual and sensitive novel with an ending of elegance that is fully satisfying in its truth and simplicity--a rare rare feat in my experience, for endings have always struck me as the hardest part of writing to bring off skillfully.
I have long felt that it just might be impossible to write a really good, let alone a great, modern novel--telephones, fax machines, cars--not to mention characters named Buckley, Susie or Ashley just seem so jarring to the eye and mental ear; so obstrusive to the flow necessary to good writing. I don't know if this is a great novel. I honestly do not like to categorize things. I can only tell you that listening to Susie as she tells her tale, is as unique a reading experience as you are apt to encounter in a long long time. I suspect it will be short listed for some of the top prizes this year. I certainly hope so. That matters not. What does matter is that here we have a major new talent, for this is Sebold's first novel, telling us a story that could be life changing for some, and will in all likelihood affect all but the hardest of hearts as they read it; one moment in tears, the next in laughter, and always, always, in fascination of what might really be--and certainly, in awe of the capacity of the human spirit to repair itself in even the direst of circumstances--if we are willing to open our innermost selves to answering Sebold's unspoken questions which swirl through the air as effortlessly as Susie's spirit gains permanent possession of our hearts.
One of my regrets in life is that you only get one chance to do things the first time. I envy those of you who sit down to read this book for that first time. The first time is always the best time. And there are few better first times for a reader than The Lovely Bones.
I would love to hear from any of you who also have a book that has touched you, as this one did me. If you send me titles and brief descriptions of what your book means to you, I will include them in our next issue. I look forward to hearing from you. Write to me at wicwas@wcvt.com.
Happy reading!
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