On Belief and Téa Obreht's Inland

In the last moments of Téa Obreht's Inland, Nora opens a canteen that might have water in it, and we are told:

She had merely intended to satisfy her disbelief.

From her introduction in this novel, Nora (one of two main characters) operates in a state of disbelief. She does not believe her young son when he claims to see a beast. She does not believe Josie, the girl-cousin who lives with them, not ever: not when she's conducting a seance or claiming to encounter the dead at every turn or telling Nora how sorry she is that she left this or that undone. Nora does not believe that her husband is dead though he is already days late returning with the water, or that her friend isn't exactly who she claimed to be. She does not believe. But she'd sure like to satisfy her disbelief. In fact, her first words to Toby, running up to her claiming to have found the tracks of the beast, are, "All right. Show me."

But this book does not open with Nora. Instead, we are first taken a few years back, eased into this story of drought and survival, marriage and friendship, love and family and commitment. If ever there was a back way into a novel, Obreht has taken it. And like the early settlers in the heat and sun-bright of 1890s Arizona, there will be some who turn back. Some will get partway into this novel of two near-neighbor times and places and decide it is not worth it. I will admit I considered it. I am so glad I stayed.

The man you meet at the novel's opening will come to be known by several names. We walk in on him telling someone a story: there is an I (and that's our storyteller) and there is a you (and that's his audience), and that's about all we know for some time. Soon we learn that he is Lurie and that he has lived most his life surrounded by ghosts, dogged by their want and his own. Lurie doesn't stay in one place for long, losing friends who become family to the violence and depredation of the west. Early on, he takes up with a camel corps (this, a fascinating and little-known part of U.S. History), and from there his story takes shape.

For all the interest and intrigue Lurie's expeditions bring, this narrative is really driven by Nora: Nora and her husband Emmett making a life together the best they can; Nora and her boys, growing and challenging her in every direction; Nora and Evelyn, the daughter who died in infancy but who has stayed and grown up there with Nora, keeping ghostly company, sharing an invisible communion with her mother; Nora and her thirst; Nora and her anger; Nora and her fear; Nora and her disbelief.

The alternating narratives are a bit hard to track at times, in part because of the deep and immediate connection the reader makes to Nora. When you are in that part of the novel, it is everything; to be drawn out of it and back into Lurie's tale is a bit disorienting. But acclimated to the shifts, the reader who is willing to suspend her disbelief, the one who decides to stay the course and see where this story is going will be rewarded. The story itself is compelling and unfolds like an infinity cube, revealing unseen edges, full of wonder and truth. There are also glowing, heat-filled sentences around every corner, sentences that made me stop and take a stutter-breath at how fine they are. Here's Nora, at a moment of realization:

and here she was -- at the hearth of her rage. It was still here. She had grown up in it, let it contain her all her life, and she knew it, its margins and oddities. She was still herself, after all.

By novel's end, Nora and Lurie's stories overlap, as you suspected they would, as you knew they must. But how? That's the magic of this novel, and the final pages fairly sing as Nora is confronted by her disbelief. It shimmers out of every cut-glass facet of this narrative, and in the end, she is more than answer to it.

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The best books spark the best conversations! If you have thoughts to share, please feel free to email me at sarabethwest52@gmail.com. I promise a reply.

Every Wednesday, I send out something of a hodgepodge of ideas, a gathering of thoughts on books, culture, and unexpected moments of joy. Sign up here to stay in the loop!

On Sundays, We Read Poetry

Each Sunday, I post a brief introduction to a collection of poetry I've been loving. I include one poem that I think really sings. No review. No need. If it's here, you'll know I recommend it. If you have one to recommend (yours or someone else's), send it along. I'll do my best to be here every Sunday.

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Some words Ross Gay has no problem using in his poetry: grody, armpit, knuckleheaded, fuck, hot wings, chickenshit, horseshit, shit. Other words Ross Gay has no problem using in his poetry: xylem, supine, luminous, human, frail. What Ross Gay fills his poems with: love and light and wonder and joy -- even in pain, even in grief.

Who else could do this with the ordinary act of buttoning a shirt? The whole poem ("ode to buttoning and unbuttoning my shirt") is a bit long for here, but here's how it concludes:

two maybe three

times a day

some days

I have the distinct pleasure

of slowly untethering

the one side

from the other

which is like unbuckling

a stack of vertebrae

with delicacy

for I must only use

the tips

of my fingers

with which I will

one day close

my mother's eyes

this is as delicate

as we can be

in this life

practicing

like this

giving the raft of our hands

to the clumsy spider

and blowing soft until she

lifts her damp heft and

crawls off

we practice like this

pushing the seed into the earth

like this first

in the morning

then at night

we practice

sliding the bones home.

Want more? Go get a copy of Catalog of Unabashed Gratitude, or click to hear the poet reading his own work. Or here to see more about his latest The Book of Delights.

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The best books spark the best conversations! If you have thoughts to share, please feel free to email me at sarabethwest52@gmail.com. I promise a reply.

Every Wednesday, I send out something of a hodgepodge of ideas, a gathering of thoughts on books, culture, and unexpected moments of joy. Sign up here to stay in the loop!