I haven’t found myself reaching for the dictionary as much as I have until this book by Marilynne Robinson.
Eloquent and lovingly expressive, Housekeeping tells the story of sisters Ruthie and Lucille, who have been passed around a succession of family members, until they end up in the care of their estranged and enigmatic aunt Sylvie.
Although slow for me to get into, the story opens itself up in wonderful and revealing ways, leaving me to want to live in the seemingly strange and bleak town of Fingerbone.
The writing is remarkable, and almost a handbook for creative writing students; I read passages of nothing but beautiful glimpses into the lives of these characters, and Robinson showers attention onto every little detail of Fingerbone. Even as the weather is slowly warming up in London, I feel the cold almost biting at the tips of my fingers, the way she describes heating up bricks on a hot stove to warm up, or skating on the lake frozen over.
Let’s be honest for a second. This story, and its plot, and the characters within it, it has all been done before, over and over, tirelessly published and bought off the shelves. And I usually steer clear from that. But I will say this – there is such a beauty in her prose that even so, it’s worth the read.