Although we’re long past the Victorian era, motherhood is still romanticized and idealized in much of the popular culture, and the myth that it’s a “sweet vocation,” and never anything more fraught or complicated, has persisted to a frustrating degree. Michelle Ross’s unflinching and unsparing new book offers a welcome corrective to this myth, tearing it apart and devouring it, story by perceptive story. The honesty of the tales is as refreshing as it is unsettling.
In this moving and perceptive collection of linked stories, characters are at uncertain and unsettled times of their lives–perhaps, in an unsatisfying relationship or situation that they can’t quite bring themselves to leave, or in a liminal space between their life as it is (or was) and what it might potentially be. Although the characters rarely find clear answers or resolutions, they make profound discoveries about themselves, and about life.
What might be gained, or lost, by diving into the wreckage of one’s past? And what might one learn about herself, and those closest to her, in the process? This perceptive and darkly funny novel takes up these questions in multiple ways, conveying the dangers and possibilities of such a venture.
This powerful and moving debut novel paints a bittersweet portrait of a community’s struggles against forces that threaten to destroy it and also the dreams–and, sometimes, the lives–of its residents. Equally compelling are the stories of individuals involved in or affected by these struggles. Sometimes, they are left to rely on little more than their own resilience and, against all odds, a sense of hope.
In this riveting pressure cooker of a novel, a man of faith and the city he loves face a force of destruction cloaked in religious righteousness. Through vivid scenes of battle and quiet moments of reflection, the book brings us to the heart of these internal and external struggles and, ultimately, suggests a way toward redemption.
