Elizabeth Strout is a flawless writer. She manages in one sentence to bring her reader into the depths of humanity with such grace and wit, such intuition that I’m not sure whether to love her or to hate her. I feel she knows me, usually the parts I don’t want people to know, and I believe she understands most of the people in my life when I’ve finished with one of her books.
The Burgess Boys shines out bright. It’s a novel about immigrants, about families, about secret pain, and how we heal and wound and grow and how when we dare to see people with kind eyes and try to see the world through their point of view, our own hearts grow bigger and make room for our own new beginnings and second chances. The three Burgess children are the main characters, along with a Somali man, a kind neighbor, an ex-wife, a current wife, and a Unitarian pastor. Strout weaves all these people together, telling a generous story with kindness, and gorgeous, raw prose.
As a writer, I deeply appreciate the time it took Elizabeth Strout to write this book. From what I read, it took about seven years. And it’s obvious. I’m more convinced than ever that good books need time to ruminate, marinate, and sink their way into authenticity and depth. When writers force their stories onto the page too quickly, we lose some of the depth that only patience and tender-loving time can give. I think American consumerism is greatly at fault for this. Publishing houses and deadlines, more money, and whatever else forces authors to produce. It’s a farce. Beautiful art takes time. Period. I don’t know what Elizabeth Strout had to do or say or sign or refuse to sign in order to take seven years to come up with this book, but I’m thankful. With Strout, I know without a doubt that when I open the first page, I’m going to read a book by a woman who respects me, the reader, and who cares that I’m taking the time to read her work.
Olive Kitteridge won the Pulitzer prize a few years back and it too, was notable, full of depth and layers and a raw generous heart. Elizabeth Strout has studied humanity, she knows the craft, and she takes her time, all together delivering works of art that will last.
From The Burgess Boys … “I seek forgiveness, because the violence in his homeland felt to him to be the fault of his people for not living the true life of Islam. As he closed his eyes, he recited his final Alhamdulilah of the day. Thank you, Allah. All good came from Allah. The bad from humans who allowed the sprig of evil in their hearts to blossom. But why this was so, the evil unchecked like malignancy-this was the question Abdikiram always walked into. And always the answer: He did not know.” (56)
“She had never seen what she saw now: that her mother’s fits of fury had made fury acceptable, that how Susan had been spoken to became the way she spoke to others. Her mother had never said, Susan, I’m sorry, I should not have spoken to you that way. And so years later, speaking that way herself, Susan had never apologized either…. And it was too late. No one wants to believe something is too late, but it is always becoming too late, and then it is.” (253)
The Burgess Boys is good and deep and filled with a tender, poignant hope that will resonate in your mind and soul long after you’ve finished the last page. I highly recommend it.
Have a great day. I’d love to hear your recommendations.
Much Love,
Tina
