Gilead

Took me quite a while to finish this. Very contemplative. I thought I would be put off by the religiosity that is inescapable as a preacher writes a letter for his future son knowing that he is dying, but it was literally never preachy. And the reflections really transcended any particular religion and asked only that you appreciate the beauty and gift of life. Really lovely. Not sure I will rush to read the follow-ups, but definitely parts of this book will stick with me as I strive to have more gratitude and peacefulness in my own life.

“In eternity this world will be Troy, I believe, and all that has passed here will be the epic of the universe, the ballad they sing in the streets. Because I don't imagine any reality putting this one in the shade entirely, and I think piety forbids me to try.”

I am incredibly grateful that my return in earnest to the world of literature will forever be bookended by the completion of this book. The last few years have been some of the most challenging my faith has ever faced.

“Rejoice with those who rejoice.” I have found that difficult too often. I was much better at weeping with those who weep.”

How deeply my soul resonates with these words. And yet, like the miraculousness of water or the silent peace of an empty church- God keeps finding ways to break through all the cynicism and fear.

It is remarkable how much beauty and truth Robinson is able to weave together in this small town, country narrative. It is as if she has found every strand of every thing she has ever lived, read, and admired and brought them together in a divine tapestry of heaven and earth. Oftentimes, one feels so immersed in the tangible earthiness of her reality or so high aloft the clouds of her theological pondering as to almost forget her authorship entirely. Her characters are richly human and divinely sparked- regardless of their social status or moral reputation. It is a great credit to her that she imbues all she touches with the same grace and dignity she continues to champion to the reader over and over again with each passing entry from Reverend Ames; namely that “there is more beauty than our eyes can bear, precious things have been put into our hands and to do nothing to honor them is to do great harm.”

There are countless quotes from this book that will stick with me forever. It would be a fool's errand to try to list even half of them here. The fictional diary format allows her access to all sorts of creatively inspired tools of communication- from flowery prose, to theological insight, to captivating stories and unexpected parables. It is a simple conceit- but one that is richly mined for all its worth.

In particular, I loved the second half of the book- wherein we get some of Reverend Ames' (and by extension Robinson herself's) most rich theological insights. 77 years of Ames' perseverance in ministry converge in a holy crescendo; one that my soul desperately needed to hear. It is often remarked that a good book is like a good friend- well, let this book be a testament to that. In many places, the words of Reverend Ames were spoken with such precision as to lodge themselves directly in my heart. His fatherly words to his son were exactly the ones I needed to hear- and though I'm often very reticent to admit this, I have almost no choice in this case but to see this is an act of remarkable provision from God for my feeble soul.

“I think the attempt to defend belief can unsettle it, in fact, because there is always an inadequacy in argument about ultimate things” Robinson writes towards the end of the book. This has certainly been my experience, and it is a testament to grace that this book helped me identify and process through what can often feel so nebulous (or calloused) about doubt. Robinson understands the divine mystery of things- she's “not going to force some theory on a mystery and make foolishness of it, just because that is what people who talk about it normally do.” Her advice might be some of the soundest I've ever heard (and unfortunately seldom hear enough):

“Don't look for proofs. Don't bother with them at all. They are never sufficient to the question, and they're always a little impertinent, I think, because they claim for God a place within our conceptual grasp. And they will likely sound wrong to you even if you convince someone else with them. That is very unsettling over the long term.”

And yet Robinson is not afraid to be direct either- speaking with the words of a father who loves their child too much to not remind them of the perils they can bring upon themselves if they aren't careful:

“I have decided the two choices open to me are (1) to torment myself or (2) to trust the Lord. There is no earthly solution to the problems that confront me.”

It is her deep-rooted empathy for suffering though, that perhaps is her most striking contribution. We see her total and absolute willingness to lean into the divine promise for restoration in lines such as:

“He will wipe the tears from all faces.' It takes nothing from the loveliness of the verse to say that is exactly what will be required”

And

“Now that I look back, it seems to me that in all that deep darkness a miracle was preparing. So I am right to remember it as a blessed time, and myself as waiting in confidence, even if I had no idea what i was waiting for.”

There are many more angles one could analyze this beautiful work from, but my hope is to have wetted at least one more appetite to try it. I leave you with this final quote (and reminder to us all):

“Grace has a grand laughter in it.”

Indeed it does.

Would not have been able to get through it if I didn't use the audio format. Can see why it was award winning, but not my style at all.

My mother-in-law gave me this and the two parallel novels for Christmas. It's definitely not something I would have picked up on my own, but I'm really glad to have read it. The book is really about death and memory, about what we want to pass on, why we want to pass it on. It's about how we prepare to leave those we love. I feel like a lot of stories talk about death, but mostly from the perspective of the living, not the dying. This is a beautiful novel, sad and surprising. Highly recommended.

As though I was eavesdropping on the last words of a father to his son. I enjoyed the vulnerability and openness the father expressed in his letters to his son.

Pros: Beautiful. The inner thoughts of a wise, kind old preacher as he ponders the important things in life and appreciates the relationships and nature that he loved. I liked how she captured his honest doubt and anxieties about dying before his son grows up. The writing is clear and simple, almost stark, like Cormac McCarthy. Reminds me a bit of Will Campbell's memoir “Brother to a Dragonfly” since it's a thoughtful, measured reflection on life and religion. It also made me think of the more recent “Between the World and Me,” since it's written for the life benefit of a son from his father.

Cons: a little slow, and it's very hard to read quickly.

Absolutely beautiful!

Gilead, in originale pubblicato come “Gilead” è un romanzo scritto da Marilynne Robinson che è stato pubblicato nel 2004. Marilynne Robinson pubblica per la prima volta Gilead nel 2004 e vince il premio Puitzer nel 2005. L'Italia ha atteso diversi anni per pubblicarlo ma la traduzione di Eva Kampmann restituisce minuziosamente l'atmosfera linguistica dell'originale. E' il secondo romanzo della scrittrice, ed è il primo della trilogia, a cui si aggiungono Casa e Lila che compongono il trittico romanzesco che segna la definitiva consacrazione dell'autrice.

Il libro è scritto come un romanzo epistolare. Infatti l'intera narrazione è un unico, continuo, seppur episodico documento, scritto a più riprese in una forma che combinano un diario e un memoire. Leggiamo l'autobiografia fittizia del reverendo John Ames, un anziano parroco nella piccola città isolata di Gilead, Iowa, che sa che sta morendo di una malattia cardiaca. Ames spiega che sta scrivendo un resoconto della sua vita per il suo figlio di sette anni, che avrà pochi ricordi di lui.

Siamo nel 1956, John ha 76 anni e sente che la fine è prossima. Dieci anni prima ha incontrato l'attuale signora Ames, molto piú giovane di lui. La donna aveva sofferto molto: il pastore se ne innamorò e in lui la ragazza ha trovato conforto e assistenza. Ora sembra proprio che siano felici, sotto ogni punto di vista. Il vecchio padre sente che il figlio di sei anni non potrà mai veramente conoscere la sua storia. Ames inizia cosí a scrivere una specie di testamento, la storia della sua famiglia. Racconta di suo nonno, un uomo impegnato nelle lotte contro la schiavitù, del padre pacifista durante la guerra di Secessione. E poi si chiede: cosa ho imparato io da tutti voi?

Il romanzo è pieno di personaggi che si specchiano e si riflettono, dove Gilead che sta al centro è un crocevia, un piccolo pezzo di mondo in cui si affacciano le vite e le storie dell'agire umano, nella narrazione di poche vite è racchiusa l'intera vicenda umana, nelle pagine si riesce ad evocare il significato della fede, l'incredibile potenza con cui si crede in qualcosa. Senza quasi che il lettore se ne accorga, con una prosa molto curata tra meditazioni e citazioni bibliche, Marilynne Robinson racconta in questo libro niente meno che la storia di un santo, un santo che non si fa annunciare da roboanti miracoli e che mai oserebbe proclamarsi tale, e l'inconsueto fascino del libro sta proprio in questo dire tutto dando l'impressione di non dire niente.

E' un libro meraviglioso per chi ha voglia di dedicarsi con calma e concentrazione alla lettura. Non è un romanzo da mordi e fuggi, richiede pazienza e tempo sebbene sia breve. E' commovente, intimo, profondo e raccolto e trasmette un senso di pace rassegnata.

Leggetelo.

Short Review: - a slow memoir-like novel of a small town pastor telling his story. This is not a book you read for action, but it is well worth reading to gain insight into the life of pastors from previous generations and how they gave their lives to the care of the people in their communities. Slow going but well worth reading.

Longer review is on my blog at http://bookwi.se/gilead-a-novel-by-marilynne-robinson/

The second reading I liked it more, but it is still a slow novel. Reminded me of Eugene Peterson's memoir the first time and even more this time. My second reading review is on my blog at http://bookwi.se/gilead-a-novel-by-marilynne-robinson-2nd-reading/

I will note that I listened to this the first time and alternated between listening and reading this time. It is a good audiobook and the audio I think helps move it along.

If you are reading it in print, there are not any chapters, just pauses between writing sessions because it is formatted as a journal/letter.

It's sort of a languid ramble of an aging narrator writing to his young son. It's homespun, middle America in awe of the beauty of the world and God's place in it. It is a religious book that warrants a closer reading as it has the grace to not complete ambush you. Robinson's writing is beautiful but collectively it just didn't take hold of me. It didn't stick and yet I know I'll pick up her latest book Lila which tells the story of John Ames' (the aging narrator of this book) wife.

Read the first half and skimmed the second half of the book. The narrator's musings didn't interest me and I had a hard time being interested enough to devote more time and attention to the story.

This book starts slow. At the half-way point, I wasn't sure I liked it. At three-quarters, I realized I really kinda loved it. It's beautiful in a way that breaks your heart wide open.

This was really beautiful.

This book was too awesome. A while back I read and thoroughly enjoyed Robinson's novel, “Home.” It details the same fascinating and moving story presented in Gilead, but from another perspective. Both works are worthy of the Pulitzer prize she won for Gilead. I am now inspired to read her earlier novel, “Housekeeping,” which was nominated for a Pulitzer back in the early '80s.

I found this book emotionally moving and thought-provoking. I liked how John reflected on his relationship with his father and his father's relationship with his father.

Ohhhhhh. I want to read this again just to savor it. But I treasure the memory of reading it, of tasting each word and each moment of this book.