I read. Sometimes I love it more than others. And today is a very, very good day.
My access to the control panel here at AuthorScoop means I can blurt out my distaste for Elvis Presley in revamped headlines for other people’s book reviews. (Having said that, it was a positive review of that book, and my sensibilities on pop music are utterly irrelevant. I was only trying to be funny, both then and now.)
But I can also log in here at AS and crow. Stand by.
THE LACUNA, by Barbara Kingsolver is one of the best books I’ve ever read. It’s a gorgeous, moving novel
that succeeds on both the small, personal level and also in the reach for overarching truths about history and about human nature.
I was fortunate enough to see Ms. Kingsolver launch this book here in Asheville, North Carolina, where the second half of THE LACUNA takes place. During her presentation, she defined the word ‘lacuna’ for us - it’s a missing part of a story or manuscript and, also, a hydro-geological formation, a hole in a cliff wall formed by tidal pull.
The novel makes brilliant use of both definitions in chronicling a young man’s life through servitude in a number of intriguing Mexican households, his association with the art world, his ascension to success as a novelist in the United States and, finally, to his scrutiny in 1950 by the House Un-American Activities Committee, as Senator Joseph McCarthy geared up to draw the lines that still linger under and over our subconscious crosswalks.
If you’ve the time and inclination, I can’t recommend it enough.