I recently read Gilead, by Marilynne Robinson. It was a pure pleasure to read.
I hadn’t really been expecting anything about this book, and reading it was a calming, gentle experience. The whole book is written as a letter to the narrator’s son, since the narrator is old and is told he doesn’t have much time left in life. He has a heart condition. The letter is soft, expresses regret, expresses love. The narrator fully describes himself and his life in an unconventional way, to the point where if this were a real letter to a real son from a real dead father, the son would know his father. It was that touching and intense. There was a minor element of plot, but it was very subtle and small, and Robinson’s delicacy and control turned the small conflict into a mountain of insight and anxiety.
I look forward to reading Housekeeping, the other novel written by Marilynne Robinson. I found out she’s a professor of creative writing, and I thought that if I could have her as a teacher it would make grad school worth it. This novel won a Pullitzer, and for the first time in a while, I could see why a book earned an award. Gilead is truly lovely and simple.
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