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Peace Like a River by Leif Enger Recommendation: ••••
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Poetic Miracles If you like to discover new novelists and want a story that will totally transport you to another time and place, you’ll certainly enjoy Leif Enger and Peace Like a River. As I turned the last page, I immediately felt the loss of friends and the sense of place that I had come to enjoy in the few hours I spent reading Peace Like a River. The narrator, Reuben Land, was eleven years old when most of the action in the novel took place, set in Minnesota and the Upper Midwest in the 1960s. A lifelong asthma sufferer, Rube comes to know that each breath of air is a miracle. Lots of other miracles enter his life, and the reader receives them with a complete and willing suspension of disbelief. Reuben’s father, Jeremiah, prays often and seems to be capable of making miracles happen. Reuben’s sister, Swede, is a budding writer, and her poetic words fill the book with lightness and grace. Older brother, Davy, murders two thugs who threatened harm to the Land family, and the family’s search for Davy following his escape from jail involves a journey that changes all their lives. Here’s an excerpt: “Next morning all geography lay snowbound. Roxanna’s gas pumps stood hipdeep. The road was an untried guess. Maybe two feet of snow had fallen, or maybe six, you couldn’t say. The wind had whipped it into dunes and cliffs. It was a badlands of snow. Swede’s bed was empty. I hollered for her even when realizing the whole house sounded empty. Crossing the hall into Dad’s room I heard muffled scrapings and ran to the window. Sure enough, all three of them were out back. The sun was out so hard on the snow I could barely look – it was like we lived on the sun. Dad and Roxanna were clearing a wide path to the barn. They were just finishing. Now Roxanna and Swede were heaving the big square barn door, trying to slide it open. ‘Wait!’ I yelled – I ran to my room, hooked my pants and shirt, ran back to the window where I could watch them while I dressed – ‘Wait for me!’ I banged on the glass, but they couldn’t hear. I shouted again: ‘Wait up!’ What were they doing out there in the new snow without me? What a rotten deal! Then, surprise, I had to lean quick on the windowsill. All that yellin ghad used up my air. It wasn’t like earlier, with the skin bag, but the truth is I had to sit down. I was sweatier than I’d ever got taking down Mr. Layton’s corncrib, and here I hadn’t even got my pants on. Outside I heard the barn door screel open, and Swede’s outcry of wonder and pleasure, and Roxanna laughing. I tell you no one ever felt sorrier for their sorry lot than I for mine there in that empty house. I crawled back in bed under the weight of the sun and joy and adventure happening outdoors, and I thought dangerous things to myself. Back to mind came every hurt I’d endured for my defect, every awaited thing I’d missed. It seemed to me such wrongs were legion in my short life. It seemed that I’d been left alone here by the callousness of my family; that should the man with the skin bag return I might not fight so hard next time that this house was so empty even God was not inside it. He was out there with the others, having fun.” You may not read or hear much about this book, but after reading it, you’re likely to recommend it to someone else. Enger captures human nature, family relationships, love and compassion, and sets readers into a landscape full of a purity and richness in non-material things that you’d like to have in your life. Steve Hopkins, September 19, 2001
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