Books: Unsheltered

I love novels where the past meets the present—especially if they involve a touch of mystery, scandal or even the supernatural—so I was eagerly looking forward to reading this one when it was recommended online based on my obsessions.

And while it definitely features the past meeting the present, it's all in the context of historical curiosity about a property occupied by a family in the later 1800s and then one in the 2010s. I was disappointed by the lack of juiciness as I read, but once I shifted my focus to the author’s exploration of relationships linking the characters, their families, their changing circumstances and the shared spaces they occupy in separate centuries, I guess I did settle in and enjoy it.

That said, the novel contains a lot—as in A LOT a lot—of gratuitously chatty dialogue and even a mind-numbingly endless dinner scene where an entire family debates the merits and shortfallings of a wide range of economic models and policies. (We get it Barbara: You did tons of research that you didn't want to go to waste as you cemented characters into their archetypal molds. But sheesh.)

It's also a work of historical fiction involving people and municipalities that have been largely forgotten, a fact I wish I'd known before it was mentioned in the acknowledgements at the end of the book. Because the historical characters are fascinating, and the free-thinking "utopian" community where they lived was anythying but and created a dramatic dichomoty of religious dogma vs scientific discovery and the covert subterfuge of Victorian mores as a backdrop for the narrative.

 
The title of the novel clearly stems from ongoing themes of crumbling houses, dire economic circumstances, social acceptance vs social ostracism, and the political abandonment of the citizenry by a Presidential candidate who shall not be named here and is not named in the book but is very indelibly described and pilloried.

 
I finished the novel with an overall feeling of meh, but I realized my mind never strayed as I read it. So I was clearly invested. Barbara Kingslover knows how to weave a compelling narrative (or two in this case), but she sure likes to dwell and dwell and dwell in the weeds when her characters have conversations.

 
If any of this sounds interesting to you, by all means read it. But if you found my observations here bland and uninspiring, you'll find those same reactions tenfold in the book.