What do you think?
Rate this book
Stones for Ibarra
Richard and Sara Everton, just over and just under forty, have come to the small Mexican village of Ibarra to reopen a copper mine abandoned by Richard's grandfather fifty years before. They have mortgaged, sold, borrowed, left friends and country, to settle in this remote spot; their plan is to live out their lives here, connected to the place and to each other.
The two Americans, the only foreigners in Ibarra, live among people who both respect and misunderstand them. And gradually the villagers--at first enigmas to the Evertons--come to teach them much about life and the relentless tide of fate.
There is an alternate cover edition of this book with the same ISBN here.
The two Americans, the only foreigners in Ibarra, live among people who both respect and misunderstand them. And gradually the villagers--at first enigmas to the Evertons--come to teach them much about life and the relentless tide of fate.
There is an alternate cover edition of this book with the same ISBN here.
224 pages, Paperback
First published January 3, 1984
132 people are currently reading
3017 people want to read
About the author
Harriet Doerr
9 books36 followersHarriet Doerr (April 8, 1910 – November 24, 2002) was an American author whose debut novel was published at the age of 74.
A granddaughter of California railroad magnate and noted collector of art and rare books, Henry Edwards Huntington, Doerr grew up in a Pasadena, California, family that encouraged intellectual endeavors. She enrolled in Smith College in 1927, but transferred to Stanford University the following year. In 1930, after her junior year, she left school to marry Albert Doerr, Jr., a Stanford '30 graduate whom she had known in Pasadena. The Doerrs spent the next 25 years in Pasadena.
Albert Doerr's family owned a copper mine in the Mexican state of Aguascalientes, and in the late 1950s, the Doerrs moved to Mexico where Albert was engaged in restoring the mine. They remained until 1972, when Albert died ten years after being diagnosed with leukemia. The time she spent in this small Mexican mining town would later provide her with the subject matter and settings for much of her writing.
Following her husband's death, Harriet Doerr returned to California. At the suggestion of her son Michael, she decided to finish the education which had been interrupted so long before by her marriage. She enrolled once again at Stanford, and in 1977, received a BA in European history. While at Stanford she began writing and earned a Stegner Fellowship in 1979. She soon began publishing short stories.
Her first novel Stones for Ibarra was published in 1984 and won that year's National Book Award for First Work of Fiction. Her second novel, Consider this, Senora, was published in 1993, and a collection of short stories and essays, Tiger in the Grass: Stories and other Inventions followed in 1995. A television adaptation of Stones for Ibarra was presented by Hallmark Hall of Fame in 1988.
Doerr died in Pasadena in 2002.
A granddaughter of California railroad magnate and noted collector of art and rare books, Henry Edwards Huntington, Doerr grew up in a Pasadena, California, family that encouraged intellectual endeavors. She enrolled in Smith College in 1927, but transferred to Stanford University the following year. In 1930, after her junior year, she left school to marry Albert Doerr, Jr., a Stanford '30 graduate whom she had known in Pasadena. The Doerrs spent the next 25 years in Pasadena.
Albert Doerr's family owned a copper mine in the Mexican state of Aguascalientes, and in the late 1950s, the Doerrs moved to Mexico where Albert was engaged in restoring the mine. They remained until 1972, when Albert died ten years after being diagnosed with leukemia. The time she spent in this small Mexican mining town would later provide her with the subject matter and settings for much of her writing.
Following her husband's death, Harriet Doerr returned to California. At the suggestion of her son Michael, she decided to finish the education which had been interrupted so long before by her marriage. She enrolled once again at Stanford, and in 1977, received a BA in European history. While at Stanford she began writing and earned a Stegner Fellowship in 1979. She soon began publishing short stories.
Her first novel Stones for Ibarra was published in 1984 and won that year's National Book Award for First Work of Fiction. Her second novel, Consider this, Senora, was published in 1993, and a collection of short stories and essays, Tiger in the Grass: Stories and other Inventions followed in 1995. A television adaptation of Stones for Ibarra was presented by Hallmark Hall of Fame in 1988.
Doerr died in Pasadena in 2002.
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 30 of 400 reviews
November 7, 2008
This is one of a handful of books that I always buy used in order to give away to people. What I liked best about it (as well as her "Consider this, Senora") as the poetic prose. Not too heavy, not too light. Not too flowery, not too sparse. Just right. Musical in a sense, but not obviously so. The kind of writing that's more a window than a door to help you see the beauty and sacredness that's inherent in "everyday life."
What I especially liked in "Stones," however, was the very artful way -- subtle, not preachy or obnoxious -- that North American lifestyle (idealizing the individual or individual family) was compared and contrasted with Latin American lifestyle (idealizing the communal). Growing up in small-town North America, in real village in rural parts, I'm able to recognize what's good and bad in both -- neither "the individual" nor "the community" should be idealized, in my opinion, because our creator and our country intended both, in balance, with some bad consequences if we go to either extreme -- but "Stones" clearly critiques North America's love of "self" while managing to do it sympathetically, favoring the mining village's love of "communal" while managing to temper it with some humor. What's nice is that, at the end, the lead characters seem to get the message.
What I especially liked in "Stones," however, was the very artful way -- subtle, not preachy or obnoxious -- that North American lifestyle (idealizing the individual or individual family) was compared and contrasted with Latin American lifestyle (idealizing the communal). Growing up in small-town North America, in real village in rural parts, I'm able to recognize what's good and bad in both -- neither "the individual" nor "the community" should be idealized, in my opinion, because our creator and our country intended both, in balance, with some bad consequences if we go to either extreme -- but "Stones" clearly critiques North America's love of "self" while managing to do it sympathetically, favoring the mining village's love of "communal" while managing to temper it with some humor. What's nice is that, at the end, the lead characters seem to get the message.
February 25, 2017
11. Stones for Ibarra by Harriet Doerr
published: 1984
format: 214 page paperback
acquired: inherited from my neighbor upon his move
read: Feb 20-24
rating: 4
Doerr's claim to fame seems to be that she published her first book, this one here, at the ripe young age of 74. She outlived her husband, who died of leukemia, and then went back to school to complete her unfinished BA and that led to here.
Gentle and atmospheric are two things I struck me initially on starting this. Richard Everton abandons his career in the US to re-open a family owned mine in the middle of nowhere desert of Mexico. He brings his wife, Sara, and they move into an old run-down mansion in a tiny town, find plenty of locals willing to work the mine. Shortly afterward he is diagnosed with leukemia. Most of this is autobiographical.
The novel isn't like a novel. It has the feel of linked short stories, with each chapter focusing on one character or oddity of the region. Several were published prior to the book. First Sara is generally amused. She struggles to learn Spanish well enough to have clear communication, but wonders and is charmed by the passionate and brutal Catholic community she now lives within. But these stories seems to get darker, and Richard gets sicker, and husband and wife remain non-religious outsiders (called North Americans), wealthy benevolent respected and necessary heathens. Eventually the stories settle more on Sara and her mental and emotional struggles with her husband's sickness, and somewhat with her grief after his passing. There is a cumulative gravitas. And there is a lot of Mexico. Still thinking about it.
published: 1984
format: 214 page paperback
acquired: inherited from my neighbor upon his move
read: Feb 20-24
rating: 4
Doerr's claim to fame seems to be that she published her first book, this one here, at the ripe young age of 74. She outlived her husband, who died of leukemia, and then went back to school to complete her unfinished BA and that led to here.
Gentle and atmospheric are two things I struck me initially on starting this. Richard Everton abandons his career in the US to re-open a family owned mine in the middle of nowhere desert of Mexico. He brings his wife, Sara, and they move into an old run-down mansion in a tiny town, find plenty of locals willing to work the mine. Shortly afterward he is diagnosed with leukemia. Most of this is autobiographical.
The novel isn't like a novel. It has the feel of linked short stories, with each chapter focusing on one character or oddity of the region. Several were published prior to the book. First Sara is generally amused. She struggles to learn Spanish well enough to have clear communication, but wonders and is charmed by the passionate and brutal Catholic community she now lives within. But these stories seems to get darker, and Richard gets sicker, and husband and wife remain non-religious outsiders (called North Americans), wealthy benevolent respected and necessary heathens. Eventually the stories settle more on Sara and her mental and emotional struggles with her husband's sickness, and somewhat with her grief after his passing. There is a cumulative gravitas. And there is a lot of Mexico. Still thinking about it.
January 31, 2022
For much of the book, it felt like each chapter was one of a series of short stories set in a small village in Mexico threaded together only by the tenuous presence of an American couple, Richard and Sara Everton. Early on, the couple are at a remove, disembodied, out of place, out of language, out of the local customs and religion, but in a way too they are central to the village. Richard has reopened the old mine that his family owned and ran 50 years before and becomes the largest employer. The couple also becomes the largest benefactor for the residents and the local church, even though they are agnostic and their way of life not understood by anyone they encounter. Sara lives on visions of her imagination to fill in the gaps between her lives and those of the people in the village. As the story progresses, the couple becomes more central as we traverse Richard’s medical crisis, but it is Sara’s acceptance of what life brings that gives the story its depth and sweetness.
August 15, 2022
⭐️⭐️⭐️.5
This was a rewarding choice by my book club. It’s the reason I love my club! This slim novel would never have caught my eye otherwise.
The story is best described as episodes and takes place in the 1960’s. An American couple, the Everton’s, move from San Francisco to a remote impoverished town in the mountains of central rural Mexico to reopen a copper mine that had once belonged to Richard’s grandfather. They are the only “norteamericanos” in Ibarra, a village of 100 or so inhabitants. Their interactions with the various townspeople make up the gist of the book, as well as the various townspeople’s reaction to them.
From early on, you know that the Everton’s stay for only six years. Richard is diagnosed with leukemia that gives him only six more years to live. Richard’s stoic approach to life and living is contrasted with Sarah’s absolute denial of Richard’s prognosis. She refuses to admit or discuss Richard’s condition and lives in a dream world where she embellishes and imagines the plights of the various persons who cross their paths in Ibarra. The Catholic Church and the “cura” (priest) play a large role as well juxtaposed against the agnostic/atheist Everton’s.
This is definitely a tale of cultural clashes, but in the end there is a shared sense of tragedy and a saving grace that unites the Mexicans and Americans.
On an interesting sidebar, I read this entire book out loud for the benefit of both my hubby and myself. It was truly enjoyable to read a chapter a day and dissect it together. His review? This book appeals more to the ladies. Chick lit per his assessment.
ATY Goodreads Challenge - 2022
Prompt #25 - a book less than 220 pages or more than 440 pages.
This was a rewarding choice by my book club. It’s the reason I love my club! This slim novel would never have caught my eye otherwise.
The story is best described as episodes and takes place in the 1960’s. An American couple, the Everton’s, move from San Francisco to a remote impoverished town in the mountains of central rural Mexico to reopen a copper mine that had once belonged to Richard’s grandfather. They are the only “norteamericanos” in Ibarra, a village of 100 or so inhabitants. Their interactions with the various townspeople make up the gist of the book, as well as the various townspeople’s reaction to them.
From early on, you know that the Everton’s stay for only six years. Richard is diagnosed with leukemia that gives him only six more years to live. Richard’s stoic approach to life and living is contrasted with Sarah’s absolute denial of Richard’s prognosis. She refuses to admit or discuss Richard’s condition and lives in a dream world where she embellishes and imagines the plights of the various persons who cross their paths in Ibarra. The Catholic Church and the “cura” (priest) play a large role as well juxtaposed against the agnostic/atheist Everton’s.
This is definitely a tale of cultural clashes, but in the end there is a shared sense of tragedy and a saving grace that unites the Mexicans and Americans.
On an interesting sidebar, I read this entire book out loud for the benefit of both my hubby and myself. It was truly enjoyable to read a chapter a day and dissect it together. His review? This book appeals more to the ladies. Chick lit per his assessment.
ATY Goodreads Challenge - 2022
Prompt #25 - a book less than 220 pages or more than 440 pages.
August 29, 2021
3.5***
At the outset of the novel Richard and Sara Everton arrive in the remote mountain of Ibarra, Mexico. The state is never specified but I believe this fictitious town is in the state of Michoacan. They have sold their home in California and most of their belongings to move to Ibarra so that they can reopen the Malaguena mine that Richard’s grandfather abandoned some fifty years previously.
What were they thinking? This is not a quaint, lovely town, it’s a dusty, dying village with impoverished and little-educated residents, and little to no infrastructure. Yes, they have plumbing and electricity, such as it is. But they must travel several hours to a larger city to place a phone call. At least they speak Spanish … sort of.
But the Evertons are committed to this plan. They work hard to re-establish the mine, hire a housekeeper, cook, gardener, and security for the front gate. Begin to hire and train workers for the mine, buy local furnishings for the house, and make a life here. They don’t really understand the local culture, but they are at least open to learning.
I found this very atmospheric. I loved the descriptions of the various festivals and local traditions, the unique blend of native religious beliefs with Catholicism, and of herbal medicine administered by a curandera vs “modern” treatments by a university-educated physician.
There are several subplots involving the residents of the town, including a love-triangle between two brothers and a fetching young girl, a procession of young priests brought in to assist the resident pastor, and a series of doctors, mostly fresh out of school, whose life’s ambitions were clearly NOT to live in remote Ibarra.
The book was made into a TV movie in 1988, starring Glenn Close and Keith Carradine as Sarah and Richard Everton. I’ve never seen it.
At the outset of the novel Richard and Sara Everton arrive in the remote mountain of Ibarra, Mexico. The state is never specified but I believe this fictitious town is in the state of Michoacan. They have sold their home in California and most of their belongings to move to Ibarra so that they can reopen the Malaguena mine that Richard’s grandfather abandoned some fifty years previously.
What were they thinking? This is not a quaint, lovely town, it’s a dusty, dying village with impoverished and little-educated residents, and little to no infrastructure. Yes, they have plumbing and electricity, such as it is. But they must travel several hours to a larger city to place a phone call. At least they speak Spanish … sort of.
But the Evertons are committed to this plan. They work hard to re-establish the mine, hire a housekeeper, cook, gardener, and security for the front gate. Begin to hire and train workers for the mine, buy local furnishings for the house, and make a life here. They don’t really understand the local culture, but they are at least open to learning.
I found this very atmospheric. I loved the descriptions of the various festivals and local traditions, the unique blend of native religious beliefs with Catholicism, and of herbal medicine administered by a curandera vs “modern” treatments by a university-educated physician.
There are several subplots involving the residents of the town, including a love-triangle between two brothers and a fetching young girl, a procession of young priests brought in to assist the resident pastor, and a series of doctors, mostly fresh out of school, whose life’s ambitions were clearly NOT to live in remote Ibarra.
The book was made into a TV movie in 1988, starring Glenn Close and Keith Carradine as Sarah and Richard Everton. I’ve never seen it.
January 2, 2009
I struggled with the rating for this book, because it probably deserves 5 stars. However, I as the reader had a little difficulty putting everything together so that the lower rating more likely represents a deficiency on my part instead of a commentary on the book itself.
Nevertheless, this book is beautifully written, because the rhythm is very lyrical in nature. It's about a couple who move to Mexico in the 1960s to re-establish a mine that the husband's grandfather had abandoned in 1910. The couple's story is told through a series of vignettes that depict the numerous differences between Mexican and American cultures. What's interesting is that people die every day in this small Mexican town in strange and sometimes violent ways, and the husband in book, Richard, we learn at the onset of the book will also be dead within 5 years of the couple's move to Mexico. There is a connection between his death and those of the others in the book that I haven't quite put together in my mind yet. Even so, I became very wrapped up in the Ibarra community, and I had such admiration for the couple who moved there. They were the only foreigners in that town, and they had such a generosity about them, that I found them to be quite compelling as characters.
This book isn't for everyone, but if you are looking for a unique read, you may want to check this one out.
Nevertheless, this book is beautifully written, because the rhythm is very lyrical in nature. It's about a couple who move to Mexico in the 1960s to re-establish a mine that the husband's grandfather had abandoned in 1910. The couple's story is told through a series of vignettes that depict the numerous differences between Mexican and American cultures. What's interesting is that people die every day in this small Mexican town in strange and sometimes violent ways, and the husband in book, Richard, we learn at the onset of the book will also be dead within 5 years of the couple's move to Mexico. There is a connection between his death and those of the others in the book that I haven't quite put together in my mind yet. Even so, I became very wrapped up in the Ibarra community, and I had such admiration for the couple who moved there. They were the only foreigners in that town, and they had such a generosity about them, that I found them to be quite compelling as characters.
This book isn't for everyone, but if you are looking for a unique read, you may want to check this one out.
August 20, 2015
I actually thought about how much I love this author when I picked the name Harriet for our daughter. Very nice voice in her writing.
May 27, 2018
I always glance at the copyright page of a book, and in this case I immediately panicked. For the current challenge, I needed to be reading a book published in 1984, and the copyright started with 1978 (and then '81, '83, and '84). Sometimes the GR information is incorrect, but this was going to be beyond disappointing - and I was going to have to scurry around and find a replacement book. It turns out that the earlier copyrights were for stories published before the final publication of the novel. Yes, stories. This is definitely a novel, but the construction is somewhat similar to Olive Kitteridge.
Sometimes reading a lot of stories by a single author can feel repetitious, and this is true about some of the chapters in this. Here is the story of Richard and Sara Everton, but there is also the story of Ibarra, a village remotely located in the interior mountains of Mexico. Some 50 years earlier than our story was the 1910 Revolution, when Richard Everton's grandfather was forced to abandon his mining operation and flee the country. The Evertons return to Ibarra to reclaim the mine, to reinvigorate the village, and to live their lives.
Sometimes reading a lot of stories by a single author can feel repetitious, and this is true about some of the chapters in this. Here is the story of Richard and Sara Everton, but there is also the story of Ibarra, a village remotely located in the interior mountains of Mexico. Some 50 years earlier than our story was the 1910 Revolution, when Richard Everton's grandfather was forced to abandon his mining operation and flee the country. The Evertons return to Ibarra to reclaim the mine, to reinvigorate the village, and to live their lives.
The driver of the station wagon is Richard Everton, a blue-eyed, black-haired stubborn man who will die thirty years sooner than he now imagines. On the seat beside him is his wife, Sara, who imagines neither his death nor her own, imminent or remote as they may be. Instead she sees, in one of its previous incarnations, the adobe house where they intend to sleep tonight.With this forecasting in the first paragraph, we know - or think we know - where the story is heading. It is no spoiler, then, to say that we come to know Sara and the villagers as Richard gets sicker and sicker. I had great empathy for Sara. Although we had a positive outcome (as Sara and Richard do not), last fall my husband and I looked squarely in the face of his cancer. Most of the early chapters did not involve much emotion, and I was not entirely prepared for the last 20 or so pages. I should have, but did not, expect such a powerful depiction of a wife's loss. And it is this last that nudges the story over the 4-star line into my 5-star reads.
November 21, 2016
A delightful, unusual little novel, Harriet Doerr's debut when she was 73. A middle-aged American couple uproot themselves, moving to a small Mexican town to reopen the copper mine the man's grandfather had abandoned a half century before. The relations between the townspeople and the Americans are chronicled with lyrical, Marquezian verve. Most of Doerr's eccentric choices about what to put in and what to leave out were intriguing; the chapters that focused on the non-believing Americans's encounters with the local priests and nuns fell flat, however. But what an odd little gem of a novel!
February 18, 2010
You should read this book even if it's not really your kind of thing. A couple, one just over 40 and the other just under, move from the Bay Area to rural Mexico to start up the husband's old family mine. The book feels more like a collection of short stories than a novel. The language is lyrical without being gushing and Jake will be happy to know that Doerr never dips into magical realism. There might be odd coincidences and an oddly humorous but sad bit in which an old priest is followed around by all the village dogs all the time, but there are no miracles.
This isn't a travel book, nor is it some of that "see how poverty makes people noble" crap. Mostly it's about the wife's journey to both understand and deliberately misunderstand the people around her and the events in her life.
It's sad but not that bleak. More on the "relentless tide of fate" side than the "all doom all the time" side. I take great solace in the fact that this was Doerr's first book published and she was 68. That means I have about 34 more years before it's too late for me to publish my great American novel.
Bibliovore says: it tastes like Chicken mole from Montero's Cafe. Chiles with chocolate means it's rich but not sweet.
This isn't a travel book, nor is it some of that "see how poverty makes people noble" crap. Mostly it's about the wife's journey to both understand and deliberately misunderstand the people around her and the events in her life.
It's sad but not that bleak. More on the "relentless tide of fate" side than the "all doom all the time" side. I take great solace in the fact that this was Doerr's first book published and she was 68. That means I have about 34 more years before it's too late for me to publish my great American novel.
Bibliovore says: it tastes like Chicken mole from Montero's Cafe. Chiles with chocolate means it's rich but not sweet.
May 8, 2017
Author, Harriet Doerr's debut novel was published when she was 74 years old. She went back to school at the urging of her son, to finish her BA after surviving her husband and went on to become a Wallace Stegner fellow. She writes a fiction novel or novella from her experiences in Mexico.
The story is gentle and revealing of North American life compared to that of rural Ibarra, Mexico. Sarah and Richard, a couple in their 40s leave California to reopen a mine in Ibarra abandoned by Richard's family many years earlier. There experiences with the residents of way of life in Ibarra help Sarah and Richard learn and grow. The voice is like none I've read and it is beautiful and lyrical in nature, it's a series of vignettes exploring Sarah & Richard and their neighbors.
The story is gentle and revealing of North American life compared to that of rural Ibarra, Mexico. Sarah and Richard, a couple in their 40s leave California to reopen a mine in Ibarra abandoned by Richard's family many years earlier. There experiences with the residents of way of life in Ibarra help Sarah and Richard learn and grow. The voice is like none I've read and it is beautiful and lyrical in nature, it's a series of vignettes exploring Sarah & Richard and their neighbors.
August 4, 2007
I really wanted to love this book, mostly because it’s the first novel written by an elderly woman, and I love the idea of late-life accomplishment. And I did like it, but I didn’t love it. The story was reasonably interesting and the writing style was okay, but neither really wowed me. But I know some readers think this is a wonderful book and I did enjoy it so I wouldn’t want to dissuade anybody from reading it.
May 25, 2011
It feels like assigned reading for a high school English class. Like it is probably good for me somehow but I'm just not getting it. I didn't connect to any of the stories or characters. My favorite part was being done.
April 8, 2019
This novel is probably well worth a read. But I've read it, and even though I remember nothing about it, and it's short, I'm getting rid of it. (Now I wish I hadn't.)
It was the winner of the "American Book Award" (whatever that is) in 1984, so I probably read it thirty years ago. The blurb on the back quotes the NYT: "A very good novel indeed, with echoes of Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Katherine Anne Porter, and even even Graham Greene". Pretty good company!
It was the winner of the "American Book Award" (whatever that is) in 1984, so I probably read it thirty years ago. The blurb on the back quotes the NYT: "A very good novel indeed, with echoes of Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Katherine Anne Porter, and even even Graham Greene". Pretty good company!
May 22, 2017
I borrowed this book from the library based on Lisa Roberts' excellent review. This is such a gentle, beautiful story about a North American couple moving to a small village in a remote part of Mexico to reopen his grandfather's ore mine. Harriet Doerr won the National Book Award for this descriptive novel of their life, surroundings and neighbors. Being agnostic in Catholic Mexico provided a background to the story as well as a framework for Richard and Sara's social lives. Richard succeeds in reopening the mine and providing jobs for many of the villagers. Sara craving her North American privacy, manages to negotiate relationships with servants, nuns and priests as well as learning to trust and make friends. The description of the land as well as the weather completed this novel for me.
September 7, 2012
I read this at the request of someone who has taught it for years and thinks it's all that. For me it was a mixed bag. The prose is elegant and almost deceptively simple. So why not 5 stars?
Each chapter is basically a stand-alone story. It's kind of a patchwork of all of these stories of different characters and situations and how they all come together to make up this small Mexican town Ibarra. Where I got hung up is that is that I never had the drive to pick up the book and see what was going to happen next, because there was no plot, per se. The author uses some odd devices that were off-putting, like announcing when she introduced the main characters that the husband was also going to die in 6 years, and how and where. That kind of "info bombing" throughout the book bothered me, because you never get the tension of not knowing. It's all just kind of laid out there for the reader like food on a buffet table, and you just move from dish to dish and sample each one. Which can be nice, but it is definitely different than a typical novel plot approach.
So it's tricky to review because the writing itself was so lovely, and despite the smorgasbord, Doerr does finally bring it all together on the last page and let you into her reasoning of why she wrote it the way she did. But that was a LONG time to wait with no little tasty tidbits to keep me hanging on. I wouldn't discourage someone from reading this, but go into it knowing that it is more of a short story collection on related characters in the same town, and I think you will be a more satisfied reader than I was.
I think books that employ the story-piecing technique a little more successfully, weaving them together into an overall plot arc, are How to Make an American Quilt and The Joy Luck Club. BUT if you only read those, then you also wouldn't get to enjoy Doerr's lovely, unique, sparse voice. So happy reading, and choose well.
Each chapter is basically a stand-alone story. It's kind of a patchwork of all of these stories of different characters and situations and how they all come together to make up this small Mexican town Ibarra. Where I got hung up is that is that I never had the drive to pick up the book and see what was going to happen next, because there was no plot, per se. The author uses some odd devices that were off-putting, like announcing when she introduced the main characters that the husband was also going to die in 6 years, and how and where. That kind of "info bombing" throughout the book bothered me, because you never get the tension of not knowing. It's all just kind of laid out there for the reader like food on a buffet table, and you just move from dish to dish and sample each one. Which can be nice, but it is definitely different than a typical novel plot approach.
So it's tricky to review because the writing itself was so lovely, and despite the smorgasbord, Doerr does finally bring it all together on the last page and let you into her reasoning of why she wrote it the way she did. But that was a LONG time to wait with no little tasty tidbits to keep me hanging on. I wouldn't discourage someone from reading this, but go into it knowing that it is more of a short story collection on related characters in the same town, and I think you will be a more satisfied reader than I was.
I think books that employ the story-piecing technique a little more successfully, weaving them together into an overall plot arc, are How to Make an American Quilt and The Joy Luck Club. BUT if you only read those, then you also wouldn't get to enjoy Doerr's lovely, unique, sparse voice. So happy reading, and choose well.
March 26, 2017
This is a lovely and quietly affecting book. Although some readers apparently found it too episodic for their taste, such wasn't the case for me. What I did find a bit unsatisfying was how shadowy one of the 2 central characters, Richard Everton, remains throughout. Arguably the focus of the book is his wife's anticipation of his death, and her efforts to prepare herself for premature widowhood. Nonetheless, the book would have been richer if the author had seen fit to deal with the contrast between the husband's attitude towards his fatal illness and that of his wife. What Doerr shows very well is the culture gap between the 2 Americans and the Mexican peasants and priests who become their neighbors. Having decided on a whim to reopen the mine his grand-father was forced to abandon during the Mexican revolution of 1910, Richard is surprisingly successful in operating it, in spite of lack of prior experience and failing health. At first, I half-expected it to turn a bit like "Jean-de-Florette", with the naive newcomer being duped and maybe even driven to bankruptcy by the villagers. In fact, several villagers play dirty tricks on them and rob them, and 2 of them even die while stealing ore from his mine, but Richard would still probably end up a rich man if death didn't overtake him. Death plays a huge role in this book, where suicides, murders and accidents of all kinds abound. Some peasants drink themselves to death, while a few priests and nuns seem to live for ever. Because Richard's days are numbered, Sara is obsessed with how long or short the life span of her neighbors is going to be. Richard and Sara are agnostics, and as such incur a mixture of pity and scorn from the Mexicans. But as Richard's condition deteriorates, Sara becomes more and more prone to magical thinking, and finds herself entertaining thoughts that are quite as irrational as those she dismisses in her neighbors. I read this book because in "The Education of Harriet Hatfield", the title character recommends it to someone. I'm glad I followed this recommendation myself.
November 27, 2024
Wait
I read this semi-autobiographical novel a few years after it was published in 1984 and was stunned by its breath-taking prose and sensitive fatality of the story. It was Doerr's first published work and received a National Book Award. She was 74 when it was published.
Since then, after only reading it the once, I've said countless times it was my all-time favorite book.
In the novel, two North Americans move to a small village in Mexico to re-open an abandoned copper mine. Six years later, Sara Everton's husband, Richard, dies of leukemia. The book is about those six years of living, of knowing, of waiting, and of Sara never reconciling that it would happen.
Now I finally read it again. I'm no longer in my early 30s. I'm in my mid 60s now. In those intervening decades, I've lost the people who were my roots, knew me best, and are my faithful shadows now. I never really believed they would die. Even today I still wish each would have waited longer, until I was ready. There are things I want to ask them. Things I want to tell them.
This time reading, the novel was just as lyrical, just as sensitive, just as breath-taking. This time, it was also newly crushing.
Doerr, herself, is dead now. She wrote only 3 books. I have one left to read, another novel, Consider This, Señora. What am I saving it for? No, what am I waiting for?
"What if he dies before I get back, before I can tell him? Tell him what? she asked herself. Tell him about the dog, the moon, the flowers, the lost streets of Viudas. Tell him that Dr. de le Luna is a specialist in his disease. Tell him to wait."
I read this semi-autobiographical novel a few years after it was published in 1984 and was stunned by its breath-taking prose and sensitive fatality of the story. It was Doerr's first published work and received a National Book Award. She was 74 when it was published.
Since then, after only reading it the once, I've said countless times it was my all-time favorite book.
In the novel, two North Americans move to a small village in Mexico to re-open an abandoned copper mine. Six years later, Sara Everton's husband, Richard, dies of leukemia. The book is about those six years of living, of knowing, of waiting, and of Sara never reconciling that it would happen.
Now I finally read it again. I'm no longer in my early 30s. I'm in my mid 60s now. In those intervening decades, I've lost the people who were my roots, knew me best, and are my faithful shadows now. I never really believed they would die. Even today I still wish each would have waited longer, until I was ready. There are things I want to ask them. Things I want to tell them.
This time reading, the novel was just as lyrical, just as sensitive, just as breath-taking. This time, it was also newly crushing.
Doerr, herself, is dead now. She wrote only 3 books. I have one left to read, another novel, Consider This, Señora. What am I saving it for? No, what am I waiting for?
"What if he dies before I get back, before I can tell him? Tell him what? she asked herself. Tell him about the dog, the moon, the flowers, the lost streets of Viudas. Tell him that Dr. de le Luna is a specialist in his disease. Tell him to wait."
December 20, 2013
Reading this book was like climbing an endless dusty, sandy, duney sand dune. Reading this book reminded me of when I took multicultural american lit in college. I knew the writing was decent, even lovely, much of it, but it wasn't for me. It was a chore. The book is largely episodic and the episodes just aren't that compelling. I felt like Doerr was holding me at a distance. Her prose is spare and elegant, but coming off the passion of Elena Ferrante (I had just read My Brilliant Friend) I felt this one was just too austere. I don't know, maybe anything I read at that point would have felt bland in comparison.
I think part of the problem was that most of the characters were flat, it was difficult to identify with or care about any of the people in the little village and even the narrator doesn't give up much about herself. What keeps the book together is the fact that its protagonist is waiting to see what will happen with her husband, who has been given six years to live (he's ill with cancer or something, I can't even remember what) I kept reading largely to see how that panned out, but it didn't really pan out, so much as peter out, in my view.
There were some beautiful sentences, but looking at the book as a whole, well, I was underwhelmed.
I think part of the problem was that most of the characters were flat, it was difficult to identify with or care about any of the people in the little village and even the narrator doesn't give up much about herself. What keeps the book together is the fact that its protagonist is waiting to see what will happen with her husband, who has been given six years to live (he's ill with cancer or something, I can't even remember what) I kept reading largely to see how that panned out, but it didn't really pan out, so much as peter out, in my view.
There were some beautiful sentences, but looking at the book as a whole, well, I was underwhelmed.
January 9, 2020
When I finished this book I dramatically clutched it to my heart as tears burst forth. I don't know why. I was prepared for the ending. We had been told from the beginning that Richard would die. Early, early in the book the floating, omnipotent narrator tells us Sara leaves Ibarra and returns to North America. But I still grabbed the book to try to save it. I wanted things to stay as they were. I wanted lazy Sundays and rich copper veins. I wanted the priests to circle round and round like coyotes trying to convert and keep out the Baptists. I wanted more hidden pagan cures tucked in the book pages. I needed bright moonlight and more fatherless children. There was an accident here! Please bring stones!
March 19, 2011
I wanted to love this book...people I trust tout it as their favorite, but I just didn't. Perhaps it's the disjointed nature of the stories, but I just couldn't get involved with any of the characters. The writing has some beautiful little gems along the way--exquisite when you find them--but I'm not sure I found them worth the digging. Perhaps if I'd "gotten it" earlier that this was not a single story, but a series of barely connected stories, I might have enjoyed it more. I kept trying to tie things together and follow the threads that never fully connect.
July 25, 2012
Harriet Doerr finished her degree from Stanford at the age of 67 and received The National Book Award for her novel “Stones for Ibarra” in 1984 at the age of 73; talk about your late bloomer. From what I can gather, she did everything very deliberately and with painstaking effort. It’s said that when writing, she wrote little more than a sentence a day, meticulously crafting each sentence with the utmost care. And when reading her novel one can’t help seeing the result of her precision. If you enjoy wallowing in the trough of graceful, poetic prose, have I got a book for you. Listed among other worthy novels on the “100 Great American Novels You’ve (Probably) Never Read,” I first read and fell in love with this book twenty years ago and wanted to see how it held up. Not to worry; still spectacular.
The book consists of several interconnected stories revolving around the lives of Sara and Richard Everton who have returned to Mexico in 1960 to restore his grandfather’s copper mine, abandoned since the 1910 revolution. They plan to finish out their lives in the small Mexican village of Ibarra. Both are around forty but the author makes it clear that Richard has only a few more years to live as he is suffering from leukemia.
“The Everton’s left San Francisco and their house with a narrow view of the bay in order to extend the family’s Mexican history and patch the present onto the past. To find out if there was still copper underground and how much of the rest of it was true, the width of the sky, the depth of stars, the air like new wine, the harsh noons and long, slow dusks. To weave chance and hope into a fabric that would clothe them as long as they lived.” (Page 3)
The charm of this book is the interaction with the simple, both profoundly poor and yet prescient Mexican people, as they go about their daily lives. They are fatalists, for the most part and bravely accept the cards they’ve been dealt while expressing deep faith in God and the belief in magic and the spiritual world. Their stories made me ache for them, so lacking were their lives. But they all maintained a fatalistic attitude that allowed them to quietly, bravely endure.
“The Everton’s, as they walked past the church, saw the three beggars on the steps. They were counting their money and appeared content. They had not been so rich since this time last year. The coins that made their pockets sag would satisfy every requirement of the foreseeable future, if the cold let up, if they could patch their roof and their shoes. If the laurel leaf on the brow cured the headache and the string around the throat cured the cough. If they survived the night.” (Page 144)
Front and center over all the stories is the indication that Richard will not live for much longer and the overwhelming sadness when he finally succumbs. The housekeeper, Lourdes, was in the habit of leaving things in hidden locations throughout the house; things that might bring on good luck in one way or another and in going through some boxes in preparation for leaving Ibarra, Sara finds the remnants of these good luck charms:
“Behind a recipe for oyster stew she found a twice-doubled piece of pink paper. ‘What is this?’ she said aloud. The residual dust of dry leaves lay in its folds. Sara lifted one of the veined, scented skeletons. ‘Chamomile,’ she said, and knew it was from Lourdes, knew it was meant to ensure impossible things, long life, a forgiving nature, faith.” (Page 205)
In her short writing career, Doerr only produced two other books. I have read one of them Consider This, Senora, and found the writing to be just as spare and evocative as in her first book. How unfortunate for we readers that her talent wasn’t unearthed earlier in her life, allowing her to become a prolific writer. As for me, I will continue rereading what she did produce since it is simply sublime. ( )
December 22, 2014
What is the fuss about? I read this for my book group and am feeling pretty neutral about it. Yes, it is well-written. In fact the beauty of the language was the only thing that kept me going (that and the length -at 214 pages, it's a pretty quick read!) And I suppose if I were considering leading the life of an ex pat in Mexico, I might find it of interest. But the stories of the townspeople that intersperse the book were spare, and left more questions than they answered. And I never felt that I knew the main characters, Richard and Sara, all that well. The impulse that took them to Ibarra in the first place? Maybe I can understand that. But so much of their daily lives, their relationship, their relationships with the folks they left behind, went unsaid. But then, maybe I'm just missing something here? I'll let my book group help me sort it out!
January 29, 2019
The short story format of this book detracted from the fullest enjoyment of the writing, but the writing is so excellent and elegant, I had to give it a five-star rating. I move through Doerr's books slowly, going back to reread beautiful sentences and appreciate the subtle humor or irony. Perhaps it's in the back of my mind as well, that unfortunately, Doerr left us with only three books.
The book is a novel but it springs from the author's experiences living in a remote Mexican village with her engineer husband who was reviving an old copper mine owned by his family. While it's not autobiographical, it mirrors many of her experiences. Particularly poignant is the illness and nearing death of Richard Everton as experienced by his wife.
The book is a novel but it springs from the author's experiences living in a remote Mexican village with her engineer husband who was reviving an old copper mine owned by his family. While it's not autobiographical, it mirrors many of her experiences. Particularly poignant is the illness and nearing death of Richard Everton as experienced by his wife.
December 11, 2019
I have no idea why this was the winner of a National Book Award. I found it OK but not fascinating. The one thing it does do is paint a picture of the small town and create the atmosphere of the hot, cold, dusty, quiet, boring life in a tiny mining town town in a remote region of Mexico. I would not suggest this as a great read to anyone. I'm sure someone liked it, but I wasn't the one. You might note that it took me several weeks to finish it.
March 14, 2015
Lovely book.
September 11, 2020
I liked this book, and at the same time was annoyed by it. But I'm glad I read it.
May 12, 2021
A beautifully written snooze piece.
May 20, 2025
Sort of interesting novel about a couple who sell everything and move to a remote village in Mexico to reopen the husband’s family’s mine. The villagers don’t really understand the Evertons, and the Evertons don’t understand the villagers. Their time there is relatively short as the husband dies of leukemia within six years. (This is told in the first chapter.) The writing style was very detached, even though this is based on what the author and her husband did. And it’s almost short stories, instead of a novel with an overarching plot.
The most interesting thing to note is that the author published this, her first novel, at age 74!
The most interesting thing to note is that the author published this, her first novel, at age 74!
February 17, 2024
Such a short and sweet little book (don't ask me why it took so long to finish, I swear you can easily read this in a day). Not necessarily 5 stars as in "the most amazing book I've ever read," but 5 stars for such a simple story with some nice life lessons FILLED with aphorisms. Will definitely be keeping this copy for my personal "library." Could totally see myself reading this to my future kids (with some content edits).
Displaying 1 - 30 of 400 reviews