Sometimes the review of a novel is so beautifully written and observed it warrants several readings,
for what it says about the novel and for truths about the world.
Except from Leslie Jamison’s review of Lila by Marilynne Robinson/
“The novel opens in her [Lila’s] childhood, when she is rescued from neglect by a woman named Doll—a fierce savior and survivor and killer—who carries her away one stormy night: “Doll may have been the loneliest woman in the world, and she was the loneliest child, and there they were, the two of them together, keeping each other warm in the rain.” Lila proceeds to break open the potential of this moment. How does one person’s loneliness intersect with another’s? What renewal can come from this convergence, and what are its limits? Sometimes one loneliness meeting another looks like prayer in the darkness. Sometimes it looks like a sandwich. Sometimes it gives rise to those more recognizable ways we collaborate on dissolving solitude: getting married, having a child.”
Leslie Jamison, The Power of Grace, The Atlantic October 2014