“Poor Sabrina,” Leonard MacDonald muses towards the end of A Shooting Star, “still up, debating her dilemmas, beating her breast, plucking her crazy flower petals eenie meenie minie moe; still running around like a child in a snowstorm grabbing for flakes and crying when they melted in her hands. And blaming herself furiously all the time and doing her best to live up to her own bad opinion of herself” (379).
That, in a nutshell, is Sabrina Castro: a woman who seemingly has everything but is thoroughly self-destructive. It’s a testament to Wallace Stegner’s immense skill as a writer that he is able to spin a 400-page narrative about this woman’s internal turmoil without losing pace or urgency.
There are mere weeks (days?) between Sabrina’s rushing out of her own home after she confesses an affair to her husband (the scene with which the book opens) and the end of the book. In terms of events, few things happen. Internally, though, Sabrina cycles through a range of emotions — over and over again.
Wallace Stegner is one of my very favourite authors, and with this book he has proven once again why. Not only does he have an incomparable writing style, he also manages to capture the complexity of human beings and their emotional lives with such intense realism it’s like you’re literally transposed into another person’s mind for as long as the novel lasts.
Sabrina is not necessarily a likeable character, but she is very real. You can see, perfectly, why she is the way she is, and why she has such trouble breaking out of that miserable cycle. You want to shout at her to get a hold of herself, to do something, as Leonard tells her, and yet it’s clear why she can’t. I love it. I love it.
In the first half of the book, there is a lot of scene-setting. This includes a few perspective switches towards Helen Kretchmer and Sabrina’s mother (Mrs. Hutchens) that were not entirely necessary, in my opinion, because they slowed down the story a bit. They did, however, shed more light on the interactions between Sabrina and those two women, so they did deepen the story.
Nonetheless, my favorite scenes were all in the second half of the book:
- Leonard making breakfast for his daughters
- The stargazing scene in Bobbie and Leonard’s backyard
- The preamble to the climax, when Leonard comes home and finds Sabrina still there
- The climax itself
All those scenes were as vivid and brilliant as if I were watching a movie. Not that “movie-like” is the highest praise I could give a novel — definitely not. But I do so appreciate lively, dazzling imagery coupled with emotional realism. And Stegner manages all of that, all the time.
While Sabrina is the main character, I have such affection for Leonard as well. I felt strongly that he was a kind of alter ego for Stegner himself, in some ways, and I loved feeling as if I was getting to know him (Stegner) better.
So, to honor both Stegner and this book as a whole, let me close with my very favorite passage:
“I read books,” he said, “I listen to music. I have some friends. I find out something new every now and then.”
“I do you the honor of respecting your brains. I think you could do something, if you try.”
He almost laughed, the phrase was so exactly what he might have said about her, but he had not lost his irritation at being attacked senselessly at the crack of dawn. ‘What’ll you have?” he said. “Poetry? Music? Architecture? Is that it, art? I’ll tell you a secret. You need a talent and a conviction, you make art out of what is a gift or a curse, or both. I do what I can do. I try to help keep the world half-way liveable. If science was my racket I’d be red-hot to retrace the moon or find some smaller particular or a deeper sea bottom, and then you’d say I was doing something, probably. But literature’s my racket — the tradition, human wisdom, all that. These days my job is nearly all conservative. I want to keep reminding myself and my captive audience what it means to be human” (384).
Thank you, Wallace Stegner, for always showing me just that.