Gilead Life

As I’ve mentioned before, I do not read many novels. When I do, if it isn’t an old murder mystery from at least the 1960s or earlier, it will generally be a classic like “Crime and Punishment” or “A Tale of Two Cities” (2 of my favorites). This is basically because if you go with a classic there’s usually a reason it is considered as such. However, last year I read 2 modern novels both of which I enjoyed very much. The first was “A Conspiracy of Paper“, which I’ve blogged about previously. The second, and one which impacted me personally was Gilead.

Gilead won the Pulitzer Prize. I guess I know why. It is beautifully written. I’ve never read a novel that made me so sad as I read it yet with a sense of joy or a better word might be contentment. Reading Gilead is like remembering an old friend or brother who has died some time ago. It makes you sad to think about how much you missed them yet you have joy at remembering who they were and how much you loved them.

This book is written as a letter from an elderly pastor of rural town in Iowa to his seven year old son. Yes, it is unusual for an elderly man to have a seven year old son, but not unheard, and the novel gives you the history. The protagonist, if that is even the right word, is the Reverend John Ames. He’s dying and he knows it, so he sets about to give his history, theology, and love to his son in the hopes that he will read it when the boy has grown into an adult. Don’t expect a mystery or “action” of any kind. There are no cops, dragons, or blonde bombshells. Just people, characters, who make up the life of John Ames.

I do not pretend to be a wine connoisseur. I am not. I enjoy it on occasion. However, I am being completely honest when I say the only thing I can compare reading Gilead to is drinking wine. Wine is meant to be sipped, or so I’m told and so I do. It is meant to be drunk slow, enjoyed. This is how I read Gilead, which is unusual for a novel. I generally read a novel faster than I read any other kind of literature, basically because you don’t have to meander over each word to understand what the author is trying to say. (As a side note, may I suggest “How To Read A Book” if you haven’t read it already?) Gilead was different. I savored each sentence, each thought. Reading it reminds me much of reading poetry.

It isn’t only the language, but the thoughts and the common human experience that affected me as well. John Ames describes so many of the common thoughts we all have about family, conflict, happiness, and death but the words are much more descriptive than I could have come up with. As I’ve said, they make you sad while at the same time being somehow satisfying. The words used to describe them are simply, and not to get overly emotional here, but they’re just beautiful.

At least, that’s what Gilead did for me.

Juice