This
is a very different kind of book. There are
no heroes or heroines and no complicated plot; the action, if there is any, takes place on a
passive, inner plane. The
book, which
is beautifully written,
is no more than the musings of an old man, John Ames,
looking back on his life.
His thoughts are directed towards his young son, as he tries to bring
together some of the wisdom he has gained over the years in the hope
that that it shall eventually stand the child in some stead.
There is no particular order to the thoughts: the reader
follows the haphazardness of John's recollections as he hovers over
memories from his childhood, stories about his grandfather or things
his father told him; however,
it is when the reader finally
stands back from these
disjointed thoughts that
he/she can discern the
thin, red thread tying
everything together.
Many
of the thoughts are beautiful, some are very sad, most are
thought-provoking, and, at least in the first part of the book, the
disjointedness of the thoughts makes the book more suitable for
reading in short bursts rather than reading it cover to cover in two
or three sittings. Nevertheless, as the thread holding it all
together becomes more and more apparent, an element of suspense is
added to the mixture, and
beyond appreciating the beauty of the thoughts the reader becomes
eager to find out what will happen.
Via her character Ames,
Robinson manages to discuss many of those important questions
regarding life and death. It is a beautiful book and one that is well
worth reading.
