It’s hard not to be captivated by Catt’s prose and the rhythm of her passages, all delighting me with authentic atmosphere, locale, and the challenges of coming-of-age. A secular sense of the divine is approached in the first sentence, and throughout the book, through science, mythology, and the struggles of family, the author deftly sprinkles the sense that blessings and curses are mixed up together rather than categorized separately. It is that theme that glows the brightest to we lesser gods, and reminded me that faith in humanity has a power that transcends any one doctrine or devotion.
Elena Alvarez is 21, a newly minted 1978 UCLA college graduate in physics with no future prospects. She is pregnant by an abusive young man she hooked up with, apparently another in a long line of self-sabotages. Elena’s self-immolation leads back to a horrific tragedy in childhood that overwhelms her with guilt, one that is revealed to readers organically. When her grandmother (Tuah) writes to her from Leadville, Colorado, asking her to quasi-live-in babysit for a recently widowed father with two small children, she accepts it, because she loves her Gran and she doesn’t know what else to do, despite the fact that Elena has no experience with small children.
What follows is Elena’s challenges to maturity, which include learning family secrets that both shock and surprise her. She is an only child of a mother who abandoned the family and a father who was often away working, so Elena was primarily raised by Tuah, who still keeps a rustic cabin in Hat Creek as well as a more convenient place in Leadville. The house in Hat Creek, Elena suspects, is a place where her Tuah goes to be alone.
When Elena asks Tuah why she keeps this ancient cabin in Hat Creek in the middle of a ghost town that is falling apart, the place where her grandmother grew up, she gets an unexpected answer: “I don’t go to the cabin to be by myself. I’m not going to get away from people. I’m going because of people…a house holds memories, keeps them safe for anyone who wants to come back.”
As Tuah recounts stories of her mysterious sister, Elena’s aunt, she also entrusts Elena with the truth, another stepping stone to her maturity. Revelations lead to more challenges, and Elena starts to understand her father’s remoteness and her grandmother’s burdens. As the children she cares for becomes more attached to Elena, she develops a more nuanced understanding of family losses. “It seems a person is never finished learning about sorrow…”
Despite the periodic twee contrivances of plot and story—Elena becomes Super Sitter in no time at all, and quickly becomes the best decision maker and healer of a grieving family; in the midst of crisis, Elena becomes a hero; this small town accepts her at face value, with no small-town pettiness to shoulder; and a young, educated, and handsome man is immediately attracted to her, accepting her pregnancy without nary a blink—despite these eye-rolling moments, I was fond of the story from start to finish. Catt’s language and her protagonist’s reflective internal conflicts, (despite the ease of Elena’s external environment and acceptance) were thoughtful, and her metaphysical inclusions give the reader a lot to chew on.
Much of the story is a feel-good formula, but the author provides numerous visceral and spiritual moments to reflect on grief, loss, family, love, and acceptance. The missteps were largely eclipsed by the writing itself, and I look forward to Margo Catt’s next novel. 3.75 rounded up