Home (Oprah's Book Club): A Novel

Black sheep in an American Scottish Presbyterian minister's family in the Eisenhower years. A family full of love, a minister as wise as Solomon and two children, adults past their prime, both ravaged by the experience, yet both educated, gifted and incomplete. It is not what we expect and we do not understand it at any time. It is a mystery that is being conveyed. Little by little we learn a little but it is held back and that increases the tension. Human beings can grow up misshapen by life, never achieving happiness, despite the moral, religious and psychological excellence of the family and its leaders. The book is not about action or description, there is little to distinguish the surroundings of a small town in Iowa (probably). The effort is in the sensitive portrayal of the characters: the nuances of behaviour revealed. There is poverty but it is not financial. Some people, the book is saying, are just unfortunate: unfulfilled, unhappy even with the security of religious belief and without it. It is likely to haunt this pilgrim for years. William Scott

‘Home’ by Marilynne Robinson is the story of two adult children who return home, coincidentally at the same time, who feel the shame of not living up to the standards set by their minister father, Reverend Robert Boughton. It is a profoundly sad book; the slow winding tale towards the inevitable ending is curiously addictive. It is a three-hander, concentrating on father, son and daughter. Glory and Jack Boughton grew up in a clerical family home in Gilead, Iowa. We learn of their country childhoods, quite different as siblings go, from their conversations and the memories prompted by visits from neighbours Reverend John Ames, his wife Lila and son. The story is told from Glory’s viewpoint. Jack takes lots of ‘dark nights of the soul’, long solitary walks in the dark to which we are not privy, and his true thoughts remain a mystery to the end. Just when you think you have worked him out, he confounds you. Robinson draws a picture of rural America at a time of great change. There are demonstrations in Montgomery, but Gilead seems insulated from the outside apart from occasional telephone calls to their father by Glory and Jack’s siblings, and news reports of violence. Jack is drawn to the news coverage; his father dismissive. Jack is a contradiction; he struggles to believe yet knows his Bible backwards, plays hymns on the piano, and quotes scripture at Ames. Slowly, piece by piece, we find out the details of Glory’s shame. Why she really came home, why she is no longer teaching. But Jack is more opaque, hiding his past, unable to share, he is spiky when offered help and understanding. Does he feel unworthy? He is spiritually isolated from his family, unable to connect though at times he longs to, other times he kicks out. A to-and-fro battle proceeds as Jack opens up a little to Glory, then slamming shut again when faced with his father’s well meaning but blunt questions. There are parallels between the siblings; Glory is recovering from a failed relationship with an unscrupulous man who sounds rather like Jack, while Jack mourns the loss of a good woman who sounds rather like Glory. This book tells the story of how the brother and sister come to understand themselves, and each other, more clearly, but based on fractured pieces of the truth. As the book progresses, Boughton grows weaker as death approaches. He is one moment gentle towards Jack; the next, angry. Does he think that in striving for achievement for his children he also failed them, by channelling them towards a path they might not otherwise have followed, by not allowing them to develop naturally. I’m not sure Boughton sees it like that. They all live within the constraints of a family entwined in the strait-jacket of belief. Robinson is best at the detail of ordinary life, the garden, the fruit and vegetables, the weather, the faded house, drawing pictures as clearly...

I have read the book twice because I like it that much. Two aged Calvinist clergy who are life-long best friends and their families are the subjects of Robinson's trilogy of books. In this book, two adult children of Rev. Boughton come home after devastating experiences, believing there is nowhere else for them to go. The timing of the adult children's return coincides with the last months of Rev. Boughton's life. Once forgiving, loving and restrained in his criticism of his children, he has now lost his "filter', blurting the truth about past events with disastrous effect. Yet his children care for him lovingly. The siblings' interactions are poignant. Their Calvinist upbringing features prominently. This book is profound, sad, yet hopeful.

This book is a companion piece to Ms. Robinson's wonderful "Gilead", a tough act to follow. "Home" succeeds, moving the focus from the family of Congregationalist minister John Ames to that of his closest friend, Robert Boughton, a Presbyterian minister; like "Gilead", it is set in Iowa in the 1950's. Like Ames, Boughton is nearing the end of his life, but while Ames is focussed on his young son, still a boy, Boughton's attention is riveted on his 40ish son Jack, a prodigal who has returned to the family home after 20 years away. Boughton's 38-year old daughter Glory has also returned to the nest, to care for her failing father, and in flight from a long-term relationship that didn't work out. The novel charts the evolving relationships among these three, with what they say and don't say and can't say to one another, and with their private sufferings. Reverend Ames and his family appear, enhancing for this reader the sense of "home", with all the mixed emotions that can involve. "Home" is beautifully written, and compellingly plotted, despite the fact that not all that much actually happens -- on the outside, at least. The book is about love, and the failure of love to solve everything, and forgiveness, and race. It is also very specifically about religion, specifically the Protestantism of the mainstream American sects. I think this is a book readers will love, or dislike intensely. Give it a try.

What a gem Marilynne Robinson is. The only way this novel pales slightly is if it's compared to Robinson's recent "Lila," which is a once-in-a-lifetime achievement for any author. That novel might have earned six stars if they were available. But "Home" is a solid five stars compared to virtually every other recent novel I've read recently. It ranks slightly better than Gilead (Robinson's other novel in this group), since "Home"'s family story, with its quiet but pronounced tension, is more compelling and interesting to me. I strongly recommend all three novels in this series set in Gilead, Iowa, but I recommend reading them in this order, even though it is slightly out of plot chronology: "Gilead," "Home," then "Lila." All three stand perfectly well on their own, but for the full impact of Robinson's prodigious talent, all three need to be savored. This is modern literary fiction at its best, perfectly competent in craft with a razor-honed focus on character nuance over lurid plot drama. I cannot think of any single author responsible for three such fine novels—unless you go back to the classics of the 20s and 30s from writers like Willa Cather, Faulkner, Thomas Wolfe.