From National Book Award–finalist Jean Thompson comes a mesmerizing, decades-spanning saga of one ordinary American family—proud, flawed, hopeful—whose story simultaneously captures the turbulent history of the country at large. In The Year We Left Home, Thompson brings together all of her talents to deliver the career-defining novel her admirers have been waiting for: a sweeping and emotionally powerful story of a single American family during the tumultuous final decades of the twentieth century. It begins in 1973 when the Erickson family of Grenada, Iowa, gathers for the wedding of their eldest daughter, Anita. Even as they celebrate, the fault lines in the family emerge. The bride wants nothing more than to raise a family in her hometown, while her brother Ryan watches restlessly from the sidelines, planning his escape. He is joined by their cousin Chip, an unpredictable, war-damaged loner who will show Ryan both the appeal and the perils of freedom. Torrie, the Ericksons' youngest daughter, is another rebel intent on escape, but the choices she makes will bring about a tragedy that leaves the entire family changed forever. Stretching from the early 1970s in the Iowa farmlands to suburban Chicago to the coast of contemporary Italy—and moving through the Vietnam War's aftermath, the farm crisis, the numerous economic booms and busts—The Year We Left Home follows the Erickson siblings as they confront prosperity and heartbreak, setbacks and triumphs, and seek their place in a country whose only constant seems to be breathtaking change. Ambitious, richly told, and fiercely American, this is a vivid and moving meditation on our continual pursuit of happiness and an incisive exploration of the national character.
Jean Thompson is a New York Times bestselling author and her new novel, The Humanity Project will be published by Blue Rider Press on April 23, 2013.
Thompson is also the author of the novel The Year We Left Home, the acclaimed short fiction collections Do Not Deny Me, and Throw Like a Girl as well as the novel City Boy; the short story collection Who Do You Love, and she is a 1999 National Book Award finalist for fiction as well as and the novel Wide Blue Yonder, a New York Times Notable Book and Chicago Tribune Best Fiction selection for 2002.
Her short fiction has been published in many magazines and journals, including The New Yorker, and been anthologized in The Best American Short Stories and Pushcart Prize. Jean's work has been praised by Elle Magazine as "bracing and wildly intelligent writing that explores the nature of love in all its hidden and manifest dimensions."
Jean's other books include the short story collections The Gasoline Wars and Little Face, and the novels My Wisdom and The Woman Driver.
Jean has been the recipient of Guggenheim and National Endowment for the Arts fellowships, among other accolades, and taught creative writing at the University of Illinois--Champaign/ Urbana, Reed College, Northwestern University, and many other colleges and universities.
Pretentious piece of crap. Supposed to be the summer darling of the intellectual elitists. The whole book is nothing but a series of vignettes about being miserable. The whole family takes a turn on the misery train where I get to be in the caboose. The name of this book should have been "My Life Sucks More Than Yours." Each chapter follows a family member and there is no resolution to their story. Every marriage is miserable, every child a bratty little spawn of horror, every parent a nag, there are affairs and divorces and Vietnam and drugs and alcoholism. I am actually mad at myself for reading the whole book rather than quitting, but apparently I am a sucker who thinks that at some point there is going to be a point to it all.
What is really funny is reading other reviews. So many say, "Well, it doesn't really have a plot, and it's heavy and depressing and hard to get through. But she's a really great writer!" and then they give it a three or four. As if they are afraid they will have to give their NPR card back or something. Be brave! You can do it! Go berate Twilight for fifteen minutes and plan a trip to the Hamptons and you will feel superior once again.
Jean Thompson has been aptly labeled “an American Alice Munro”, and as a reader who has been mesmerized time and again by her captivating short-story collections, I wholeheartedly concur.
Now, in The Year We Left Home, Ms. Thompson leverages all her strengths and skills as a short-story writer and creates a sweeping and emotionally satisfying novel composed of interlocking, decade-spanning stories of a family in flux. As her grand theme, she takes on the universal quest for “home”, exploring all the manifestations of that search.
The novel is bookmarked by two wars – the Vietnam War and the Iraqi War. It begins in 1973 when the Erickson family of Grenada, Iowa, gathers to celebrate the continuing of tradition with the marriage of the eldest daughter, Anita. As some family members – the parents, Anita and her new husband Jeff – get ready to take their place in pre-defined roles, others are restlessly searching for a way out of Iowa – notably, her brother Ryan.
As this fiercely American novel takes this family down the road of its personal setbacks and triumphs, the country, too, is going through its own weaving road: from war to peace to war again, through economic booms to heartbreaking farm crises, from conventional values to sweeping changes. Ryan reflects, “The Great State of Alienation. It stretched from sea to shining sea. Everybody in America is one of two things, either in or out. His wife was right, they’d worked so hard and were so proud to be on the outside of everything they’d grown up with. But they were inside of nothing but themselves.”
As the family disperses, each must strive to get back to that central core, a place to feel at ease. Their cousin Chip, a war-damaged Vietnam vet whose mind has become uncentered, has, perhaps, the further distance to navigate; he must travel geographically and emotionally to reach the place that he has known as home.
But the others must also embark on their own personal journeys – confronting alcoholism, life-altering accidents, divorces, agoraphobia, professional setbacks, low-grade discount and changing standards to reach their own personal centers and to embrace their own realities. Ms. Thompson seems to imply that we all face our own forms of disconnect, but with recognition and a little effort, we will eventually arrive at “true home.”
Only one of the characters – the younger brother, Blake – chooses to stay home and follow what appears to be his predestined path. Although he is the most content of the siblings, he does not escape unscathed. There are days in which he, too, ponders where life has taken him and whether he should have been more of a risk-taker.
As a new generation follows their generation, Ryan again reflects, “They had done so much. They had meant to do so much more. Imagine them slipping off to death regretting the task unfinished, the field unplowed, the child unloved.”
Richly told, finely crafted, authentically explored, The Year We Left Home gives new insights into home, family, and indeed, the American experience. Those who enjoy books such as Elizabeth Stout’s Olive Kitteridge – quiet books that pack a big wallop – this is a must-read.
Not the great piece of literature I was expecting, but also not "a pretentious piece of crap" as one reviewer put it.
That being said, I did enjoy the book. I especially liked Chip and Ryan. I didn't like Anita nearly as much. I have always lived in Washington State and this book gave me insight into that foreign species, the Midwesterner. Unlike some, I didn't feel it was depressing and bleak. I felt it was actually upbeat. Yes, bad things happened - the farm closures, PTSD, alcoholism, etc - but there was always a glint of hope, an aroma of resilience.
I don't read a lot of contemporary literature just because stories dealing with "real life" ups and downs often bum me out and leave me less than inspired or excited. I read to escape from life for the most part and want to be shocked, thrilled, titillated, consumed -- and at the best of times -- overcome with wonder and emotion.
Some contemporary novels are very rich in language and character development, and while not a lot happens, they still succeed at moving the reader. Those are the novels that make us think and along the way reveal some universal truth about the human condition. Those are the novels that stand the test of time. The Year We Left Home is not that novel.
I expected a lot more from veteran author Jean Thompson. This is a woman who should now be at the pinnacle of her craft, and while all the literary tricks are present to appease the critics, the novel lacks heart and left me sorely wanting. This despite the fact she delivers in excruciating detail, an up-close look at the minutiae of one family's failures and triumphs over the course of thirty years.
But the drama is very typical, very representative of the average American life, and so help me God it bored me. The petty grievances and singular moments of disappointment and depression we all feel if we live long enough are not something I want to read about frankly. I didn't fall in love with any of these people -- their choices and "middle America" lives put me in a cold, coma of apathy.
I didn't hate this one, but there just wasn't enough in it for me to recommend it either.
The Year we Left Home follows the Erickson family over the course of 3 decades. We start with Anita's marriage in 1973, and alternate voices with every chapter. Ryan, Blake and Torrie all fill the pages of this novel. For me, it was a nice snapshot into a family and their different dynamics, and relationships over time. I was waiting for something major to happen, and nothing really happened. I don't know if any of the characters really grew enough for me to remember this book next year.
A good read overall, but left me wanting more from the stories.
The first chapter, when Anita is married at the VFW had me hooked since my first wedding was at a hall very much like this place and actually sounded alot like this one. Good book about families, how they come apart but stick together all the same, change and grow and some never changing at all. Good hisotry as they live throught the farm crisis, the after effects of the Viet Nam war etc. Liked the story being told in chapters of alternate viewpoints from different family memebers.
This book was wonderful. Jean Thompson is a masterful writer and you begin to feel that you know her characters as close friends, even people you love and care about.
"The Year We Left Home" follows four siblings and a cousin through their lives beginning in 1973 and ending in 2003. You follow their triumphs and their disappointments through the years and find that Ryan, Anita, Blake, and Torrie are not so different from your own family or other peoples' families. You know, that might be boring on the face of it, but when you dig deep families are complex and wonderful entities as Thompson proves.
I expected this book to be somewhat like "The Gathering" by Enright. It is, but it isn't. It is so much better. I think I may read this one again someday.
This was the first Goodreads giveaway that I won and it did not disappoint.
Jean Thompson created a wonderfully quiet and subtle work with The Year We Left Home. She draws you seamlessly into the characters and the place. The story has a rather unassuming beginning: Iowa in winter, a wedding, two cousins getting high in a truck.
"He wished he was out there right now, in some desert, instead of smack in the middle of his family, who, because they knew his origins and his history, thought they knew everything about him."
I grew up in a rural area similar to the one in the book and I have experienced this dynamic. There is a friction between people who stay and people who leave (or long to leave) that Thompson captures in all its nuances.
It's not a very long book. I think brevity serves the story well. The language is direct, evocative without being weighty:
"It felt like neither of them ever quit working. They could barely keep three kids on two salaries when his parents had raised four on his dad's job alone. The math of the world had got screwed up somehow."
You only get snippets of the characters and their lives through the years, but Thompson is able to demonstrate the complexity of their relationships. By the end, you've experienced the push and pull that a family goes through as its members grow up, grow old and die. There is a nice balance to the story that leaves you satisfied with its conclusion even if there is no resolution.
I feel bad for books like this because despite being brilliant and moving in their own way, it's so easy to brush them off as boring and depressing. The Year We Left Home focuses on the everyday stuff of life. There are heartbreaks and accidents and tragedies but these are only alluded to in terms of the characters' present circumstances. This book is not going to blow your socks off with drama, but you will find yourself sinking into it, captivated, during the quiet parts of the day.
As others have mentioned, there are quite a few typos in the ARC edition. Hopefully those were sorted out for the actual release!
Wow, Jean Thompson has a 30-year career. Where the hell have I been? I'm kind of leaning on five stars here, this was just so perfectly my kind of book. Snotcho, we've had a discussion of epistolary novels, and this one rates right up there with Olive Kitteridge, although that one really tries to paint the portrait of one woman, and this one paints the tumultuous landscape of a slice of time. I'm going to stand by my assertion that this work feels like O'Brien, not just in the obvious parallels of the Vietnam vet as we see Chip, but in each character, as we sense that there is horrible heartbreak and pain beneath each surface, and we feel it, even if we don't understand it. But mostly I felt like I did understand it, and how did Thompson communicate so much to me in so few words? If only I could crack my own life with the same finesse that Thompson has in showing us the Erickson family. If only I understood myself so well.
4+ stars. I adored this little book. It is a cross between a collection of interlinked short stories and a novel. It follows four Iowa-bred siblings (and their cousin) through the thirty years between two ill conceived wars. Because of the shifting narrative structure and the fact there’s not an actual plot, it’s a little hard to get your hooks into at first. Stay with it though! These characters are absolutely worth getting to know. I liked every one of them, even the ones I’d never voluntarily consort with in real life.
The writing is exceptional and exactly the kind of straightforward, witty, insightful prose I love. There were many times I stopped to appreciate a particular line or description. For example: “Sometimes she thought she was mostly a collection of minor talents.” The characters, relationships, and situations, even when cringe-worthy, are perfectly executed.
Not only did I love the characters, I loved their family, however messy and screwed up. Despite their many differences, tragedies, accomplishments (and lack thereof) the bond is palpable. It feels like a real family in all its imperfect glory. These characters love and take care of each other, even if they’re cursing one another behind their backs. Fantastic.
This story that follows the journey of one family—from the 1970s to the 2000s—is filled with haunting themes of alienation, disillusionment, and a smidgen of hope thrown in occasionally. It spotlights not only one family from a small town in Iowa, but an era.
The Erickson offspring grew from hearty Midwestern stock, with traditional values more deeply entrenched, perhaps, because of the hint of the Norwegian origins that still cling to them. Some of the family members are still farming, while others have given up and "gone into town."
In the beginning of "The Year We Left Home: A Novel," we meet several of the characters at the wedding of Anita, the family's beautiful daughter, who is filled with hope as she marries Jeff, a banker. On the fringes, we see Ryan, still living the somewhat "hippies" lifestyle, but excited about studying political science. Others, like cousin Chip, appear damaged, with strange behaviors--a legacy of his war years in Vietnam.
Told from shifting perspectives, the unfolding years are revealed, with the changes time and circumstances have wrought. Sadness, tragedy, loss...all of these visit them: Anita, Ryan, Blake, and Torrie, along with the cousins like Chip. None of them will escape what life throws at them, and some deal better than others.
I like this paragraph at the end, as Ryan contemplates an old farmhouse belonging to an aunt and uncle, now deceased, which he has bought in order to reclaim what it stood for.
"Built to last, Ryan agreed. It filled him with holy dread to stand in this place that testified to their grinding, incessant labor. How hard they had worked, and how stubbornly, every day of their lives, for their little bit of ease, little bit of pride. They had done so much. They had meant to do so much more. Imagine them slipping off to death regretting the task unfinished, the field unplowed, the child unloved. It could break your heart. He felt an urgency in him, a clamoring. Compared to them, he wasn't old at all. Chip stooped and picked another horseshoe out of the soft dirt and handed it to Ryan and Look, he said. You're lucky too."
In a sense, these two men have reclaimed their place, standing inside. Giving up life on the fringes. As I read this story, that sometimes jumped ahead several years in the telling, I could feel the spirit of the times. The details of the characters and their daily lives were haunting, yet down to earth in the manner of the Midwesterner. While the characters had "left home," they still contained the seeds of family that ultimately defined them.
The author's leaps and jumps in time frame sometimes left unanswered questions. Leaving some characters behind while rejoining others felt a little disjointed at times, which is why I am giving this one four stars. Still heartily recommended for students of family, tradition, and how the twentieth century marked the lives of one family in a way that echoed throughout the country.
This novel is a story of one family from January 1973 to June 2003. Over the thirty year period the book highlight the accomplishments, the pitfalls, the events and the choices of this family. Most of the chapters are from the sibling's point of view, the cousin, and one is from the mother's point of view. In many ways this is a novel of disillusionment as the characters struggle with the choices they have made and the consequences of their actions or inaction.
It starts with a wedding and goes downhill from there. This book is very much literary fiction, but it was too dreary and depressing. While there are positives in the novel it was hard to get past the negatives to really enjoy the book. Life was plodding, boring, predictable, unpredictable and overall disappointing. All the characters made choices they regret or live to regret. I guess you could even say the theme of this book is regret.
On a personal (and I know this is being picky) note, there is a reference to a combine plowing a field that threw me completely out of the story and drove me slightly insane. In chapter 2, April 1975, the author states, "A combine chugged along, making straight rows in the black dirt." A combine is a harvester. Even if you don't farm, someone growing up in farm country like Iowa would know this. Why didn't an editor catch this, or a reviewer, or someone? I suppose I can just write it off as the character not realizing it wasn't a combine, I guess they could think all big farm machines are combines. It just threw me out of the novel...one of those sentences you trip over and can't get out of your head.
Sadly, this book wasn't for me. I have said before in other reviews that I am a character reader. I want a character I can connect with and relate to. These characters were unlikable to me and that colors my perception of the book.
I found this in a thrift shop, never having heard of it before, and fell in love from the opening chapter, set at a wedding reception in 1973, in a wood-panelled basement of a church that sounded like every wedding in my parents' photo album of their own and those of my aunts and uncles. From that chapter told from the point of view of the younger brother of the woman getting married (and subsequent chapters shifting perspectives through other people in the family), the story moves through the next 30 years of this family as they get older, have triumphs and deal with tragedy... and eventually "leave home." One of my favourite books of the year so far.
A few weeks ago, The Year We Left Home, by Jean Thompson, appeared on Entertainment Weekly's back-page Bullseye feature. It suggested that if you "love" Jonathan Franzen, check out this book. It's kind of rare that a not-big-name novel shows up in Bullseye. And I do love Jonathan Franzen.
So, I thought, let's do this! I'd never heard of Thompson, but luckily, I had a copy of the novel on hand — I'd won it several months ago in a Friday Reads giveaway. So I dug it up from where it'd been buried at the bottom of a pile of non-priority novels, and dug in. Especially after reading Murakami, I needed something more realistic, relatively straightforward and not long. The Year We Left Home fit the bill.
I'm telling you all this because, at least to me, the story of how I came to read the novel is actually more interesting than the novel itself. Beginning in 1973 with the marriage of the eldest daughter, the story traverses 30 years in the lives of the members of a small-town Iowa family. We get short 20-page or so vignettes advancing the stories of each of the four siblings (as well as a crazy cousin named Chip) a few years at a time, chronicling their successes and failures, tragedies and victories.
Yes, it rings very true; it is some the more authentic fiction I've read — as someone who grew up in a small Midwestern town, I can say that definitively. But it sure isn't very interesting. My favorite mini-story was one that takes place in Chicago, and I only liked that one because of the "recognizable places / street names" effect.
Overall, I kept wondering if the story of this family is a story that really needed to be told. It's just so mundane. For example, one of the first stories is about one of the siblings and her mother going to visit their sick aunt. And that's it. They visit her. And they're sad she's dying. And then we jump ahead a couple years, and she's already died. In fact, in the rare cases that something interesting happens, it always happens either off-page or at the very end of one of the vignettes, and we wouldn't learn the true effect of that interesting or important event until several years later, and then from the perspective of one of the other siblings. Strange storytelling choice, that. The effect is that it pretty much removes any of the drama from the novel.
So, I wasn't a fan. But if you're looking for an ultra-realistic Midwestern family saga, you may enjoy this. Also, if you like depressing fiction, man, this is right in your sweet spot. A little 'net research has revealed that Jean Thompson is better known for her short stories, including her National Book Award finalist collection Who Do You Love: Stories. Her short-fiction prowess is pretty clear from the style and structure of this novel, so I'd also suggest checking out any of her volumes of short stories.
Ah, the Midwest. One has notions of the Midwest that the characters in this novel try to disabuse one of all the way through, but in fact, it's pretty much the way I imagined it: overgrown family farms gone to ruin; empty, neglected storefronts on main streets; young kids dying to get out. This novel follows an extended family through the 1960s to the new millenium, and isn't lavish with descriptions of beauty or of success or even of happiness. But the author does treat us to moments of transcendence: Norman and Martha dancing at a wedding, and Martha again, dying, stopping her niece from leaving her side. One gets the sense, as the characters age, that this is pretty much the way it is, for all of us, wherever we are: tension, struggle, outcome. Some outcomes are good; some not so good.
Moments of revelation and consequence are scattered through the novel like a hilly drive. One feels a ratcheting of tension and a concentration in focus, requiring a held breath to get us through. A headstrong young girl, determined to pain her parents, drives carelessly away from a funeral; a graduate student teaching a course invites a student to his house for dinner; a wife attends an AA meeting and brings another co-dependent home; a trip to Italy turns surreal. After, we turn our eyes and our thoughts to another character's life to catch our breath. These hills and valleys seem familiar, and when the book winds down we feel as though we could have been looking through the album of our lives: "Have you heard from so-and-so lately? I heard (s)he'd..."
Sure have been seeing this sort of narrative structure in novels a lot lately, in which the author tells an epic-ish tale in discreet set pieces, skipping months and years between each (what amounts to) short story, and shifting our perspective among multiple characters. Jean Thompson's mostly pretty great The Year We Left Home spans thirty years of an Iowa family--and, equally important to the story, of an Iowa town, and, by extension, the country as a whole--beginning in 1973 and ending in the early aughts. Mom and Dad Erickson are sober and hard-working and endlessly sacrificing their lives for their four children, whom we watch grow up and face life's joys and tragedies and loves and heartbreaks and small disappointments and quiet moments of vague sadness or irritability. It took a little while for me to warm to the people here--everyone was a bit too whiny in the first few chapters, or vignettes, I thought--and there was one character, older cousin Chip, who's recently returned from Vietnam when first we meet, whom I never really liked spending time with. BUT Thompson is terrific at setting a scene, and a mood (if a bit ham-fisted at reminding us about the time-frame), and of making her points about family, and home, and country without ramming them down our throats. She's a smart woman, the author, and her pacing's good, and several chapters are genuinely moving, but greatness was missed here.
What a wonderful book. Especially for those of us who grew up in the 60's and 70's. This family saga follows the siblings in an Iowa farm family through three generations. The chapters skip through the years but after the first couple, it was very easy to follow and keep the characters straight (something I often have trouble with in books that skip around). I really loved the way this book is written. The development of the characters as they grow up and grow old is so smooth and true. As someone who grew up in a small rural town, the book struck just the right feeling. The setting of rural Iowa farming country provided insight into the tragedy that farmers faced during the recession of the 80's.
I'm giving this book 5 stars because it was difficult to put down, gave me new insight into a time that I lived through and was wonderfully entertaining. I will definitely be looking for more books by Ms. Thompson.
She is a good writer but in this case that was a negative. She brings to life these incredibly shallow and boring people, every character! I finally didn't want to spend time with these people I didn't like so I quit the book half way.
This is another gem by an author who has become a favorite! The characters are rich and the plot unfolds in such a way that the reader remains eager for more! My reading time for this has been fragmented, unfortunately, and so I found myself flipping back through in order to sort things out. Each chapter features a different principal in varying time periods. Having a keen eye for life’s ironies, the author’s prose is indeed worthy of a slow, savoring read! However, toward the end, one of the chapters disintegrated into a political rant, which was indeed a distraction and disturbed the rhythm of the novel. A four star rating was my plan until that hurdle.
In this moving novel, Jean Thompson follows a small-town Iowan family through thirty years of changes beginning in 1973. Those are the years when the insulated, land-bound Midwest was invaded by every social and economic upheaval and became once and for all, for better or for worse, integrated into American life.
The Erickson family came from a long line of hardworking stoic Norwegian farmers, but the most recent generation is having nothing to do with all that. The blows to patriotism brought about by Vietnam, the economic devastation of the farm crisis, drugs, feminism, and marketing have driven wedges into the family unit.
I have not been a fan of novels composed of connected short stories but Jean Thompson mastered the form. Each chapter ends abruptly, leaving the reader hanging from the proverbial literary cliff, the next chapter begins at an unspecified later time, yet she made it all meld into satisfying character development and exciting plot twists. Finally in a sadder but wiser tone, she ties up all loose ends.
A large part of my extended family are Midwestern people, descended from immigrant farmers. They are of sturdy stock, strong on religion, family, morality, and thrift. The women could usually stand up to anything, unless they broke down early. Most problems were solved by food, I suppose because for farmers food was forever available even when money was scarce. The men worked until they dropped unless they were sickly. God was always on their side though He worked in mysterious ways.
I have first hand experience of the bewilderment such people suffered in the face of kids who would rather get high, young women who would rather get a job than stay at home, all of us who followed rock bands, food fads, Eastern religions, and free love. The Year We Left Home captures these changes with just the right tone.
The Ericksons' story is sad, even tragic at times, but not hopeless. It is filled with sharp-eyed humor but is not ironic. I read it in one day. I loved it.
"He wished he was out there right now, in some desert, instead of smack in the middle of his family, who, because they knew his origins and his history, thought they knew everything about him."
Jean Thompson's latest novel is a testament to the part of us that makes us uniquely American: that we have the potential to be someone really special. Not the humdrum boring life were were brought up in, but a new life and a new person in a completely different (and exciting) place.
The story begins in 1973 in a small town in Iowa. The main characters, all related, are ready to go out on their own and make their way in the world. They all seek something better than what they grew up with, and the author shows us snapshots of their lives as the years progress.
Thompson is a wonderful storyteller and she's got the midwest portrayed perfectly. I grew up in another midwest state, but it could have been my own. At first, I didn't care for the characters. But then, they were young, selfish and too idealistic. I wasn't supposed to like them. Then, life happened to them. They grew up. I started sympathizing with them. The events that unfolded are common in people's lives, and yet, I was still taken by surprise. Eventually, you see yourself in the characters.
The Year We Left Home is an excellent novel depicting the coming of age of a generation. I received this as an Advance Reader's Edition from a Goodreads giveaway. Thanks, Goodreads!
So it took me quite a while to get through this book. At first it was the book, (I found it pretty hard to sink into in the first part even though I loved the first chapter), but then it was all my own fault. A stupidly over committed week full of job interviews and helping my mom move house made it impossible to get more than 20 pages in in a sitting. I typically like to read a book in 3 or 4 days I find it helps me to stay with the characters.
Anyway, this book is good, really good in parts. It is real and gritty and sad. We follow the lives of a family over 30 years; siblings, cousins, parents, aunts and uncles and all the infuriating and wonderful things that come with being part of a family. I hold a soft spot for Chip (which started with his name, I have never understood the whole Jr thing, what a burden to place on your child). He is so broken, but he gets it, at the heart of it, he understands life better than the others. Anita too was very enjoyable to read, the prettiest girl in school, marries the local banker, has some children, ruminates about her children her husband and the other men in her life and their tendencies to flee the emotional scene.
Overall a very enjoyable character based novel, with tons of great one liners like "you didn't give up wanting things because your life had put them out of reach", aint that the truth.
This book is one of a new genre...I'm not sure what it's called...but basically it's a book that calls itself a novel but is really a bunch of interconnected short stories. This is an extremely popular thing to do in the publishing industry as of late, mainly, I believe, because short story collection sell like crap when they are labelled accurately.
What has bothered me in other instances of this "novel-but-really-we're-a-collection-of-short-stories" genre, ala A Visit from the Goon Squad and Olive Kitteridge, is that the main characters in the stories are supposed to be related, but their connections to each other are so tenuous it is pretty clear their "relationships" were all pasted together in order to label the book "novel" at the bookstore.
That is not the case, however with this book. The characters in each short story are really family members. Each chapter focuses on one of a large family of Iowans. The chapters vary in setting from the earlier 70's to the early 2000s. We see the characters mature from teens to people in their 40's.
Nearly every chapter has some really poignant moments as the characters deal with divorce, PTSD, cancer and life-altering car accidents. Each character is the focus of a chapter or two, and the stories, although they can be read as stand-alones, function well together.
I have seen this book on many reading lists and the reviews have been favorable. There is no doubt that the writing is very good and the format is interesting. It's written as connected short stories that span several different family members over a number of years. Being set in rural Iowa, it brought to mind my own family and a few of the characters reminded me of those relatives.
I'm not sure if I will find anyone to agree with me, but I always get annoyed when a woman tries to write from a male perspective and falls short. I know we all joke about men and their limited emotional and intellectual ability, but the male characters in this book seem so one dimensional, especially compared to the female characters. It's that unevenness that makes the book drag in places and gives it a sputtering rhythm as you work your way through their journeys.
I won't go into the whole story, since I know many of you haven't read it, but it was more than a little depressing. There was no big story arc, because of the format, so it was more like little arcs that let you peek into the small, kind of sad, little worlds of the Petersen family. It didn't really leave me wanting more, but I wasn't unhappy that I read it.
I like how Thompson looks at class issues, marriage, the push and pull of family. Iowa, Midwest ethos. Great characters.
She wrote:
"She was a bad, foul, unnatural mother." "You turning into one of those crazy women? Nothing maks you happy?" "She asked him where he was from and he said Iowa. Darkest Iowa." "Outside, the same frozen street, same dirty-pink mercury-vapor streetlight, the same stick tree throwing its bare shadow....It was easy for him to imagine, at such times, that he was lost in a nightmare loop of time, when it would always be a black night in stark and staring winter and he would always be awake to see it." "At some point in their life together he had assumed the burden of making her happy. Her most familiar mood, what he thought of as her default position, was one of exasperated suffering. Which he must attend, coax, tease, and try to reason away. He would never be entirely successful; at best she would only be not unhappy. But he would always be obliged to try." "Strips and lozenges of sky." "She wasn't very pretty and he hoped that would make her friendlier, but he guessed not."
Very well written. The story followed a family from the seventies to 2003. It showed just snapshots in different years of their lives. Some questions were answered in future snapshots, but some were not. For instance, Anita takes $5000 out of personal funds to help a family member who is losing their farm. You never find out any follow up to that event. What did her husband say? Did they have the money? She took it from two banks and I wondered if she took more out than they had? Then Jeff is an alcoholic. Okay, but we never see how bad it gets. Are the kids affected? He had to switch jobs because of it, but why? Some parts are very explanatory and some just left you hanging.
My biggest fault with the book was the typos. A lot of mistakes with spelling and mistyped words. A lot more than is acceptable. It disrupted the flow of my reading several times.
Over all I enjoyed the book. It took a normal family and followed it through some hard times. The focus was the hard times. I would have liked to see a little more of the good times as well.
This book was a quiet but powerful novel with an interesting structure. The book follows the lives of three generations of an Iowan family. Each chapter of the book is set a couple of years after the previous chapter, and in each chapter Thompson delves deeply into an episode in one of the character's lives. I read that the author is a master of the short story, sometimes compared to Alice Munro, and each chapter has the arc of a standalone short story.
Interrelated short stories seems to be a popular genre, and I have heard books in this genre criticized for not going deeply enough into the characters, but I think this style worked perfectly for capturing the trajectories of the family members' lives in this novel. I often get a bit flummoxed by epic tales in which the author delves deeply and then pulls back again and then delves deeply again... and in this novel, each chapter was a detailed account, but we were able to view the family over time because of the time lapse between chapters.
{distracted by a sleeping baby who keeps stirring when I type...}
Jean Thompson tells an updated family saga that spans 30 years between 1973 and 2003, the time periods punctuated by references to national phenomena like "the tech bubble," and "the farm crisis" and culinary trends from carpaccio to pomegranate juice. The novel revolves around the Erickson family of Grenada, Iowa: Anita, the former prom queen who marries an Ames banker and becomes an embittered stay-at-home mom; Torrie, whose rebellious ambitions to attend college in New York and leave the Midwest behind are tragically derailed; Ryan, who resides in Chicago with his wife and children, rides the internet wave to financial success, and flirts with relationships outside of his marriage while investing in his hometown; and Blake, who remains in Grenada working construction while raising his family. The book -- each chapter of which is told from a different family member's perspective -- explores how we become ourselves and how we are dragged back into our pasts. The Ericksons eventually come home, physically, spiritually or both, and find comfort in what they had rejected.
I have to admit that I'm not quite as crazy about this as I thought I was going to be. It's nothing specific I can put my finger on--not bad characterization or poor plotting or bad editing or misguided underlying assumptions. Rather it's the sort of self-conscious book that leaves me all too aware that I am Reading a Terribly Literary Tome...and therefore I can never quite lose myself in the actual book.
It felt like a string of vignettes about the same family over the years, all collected into one binding, but none of which ever really concluded. I'm reminded of something an acquaintance said in high school: "Life has no plot!" When we looked at her quizzically, she elaborated: "It doesn't have a convenient beginning, middle and end, like in books." Having lived a few more decades, and read more than a few books since then, my classmate is absolutely right. Life does not end up packaged up with a neat little sparkly bow. In that sense, The Year We Left Home is indeed a neat slice of life novel. Unfortunately, I want endings in my novels.
Oh my. Like Olive Kitteridge I wanted to like this so much more than I actually did but I just can't. This novel is a series of vignettes centered around the Erickson family of podunk Iowa spread over 3o years or so. Time passes, the kids leave home, or don't, things happen, some people change and others not much, and, uhm, time passes. The writing is lovely and subtle and there were some little gems sprinkled throughout but like "Olive" it just felt so darn sad to me. As I sit here I keep trying to think of something truly happy that happens anywhere in the whole book and honestly I could only come up with Torrie making a living from her art, which is really Torrie succeeding in making herself a life separate from her family - which is good but somehow just didn't overcome the overall feeling of subdued gloom. Everyone seems to be unhappily married, none of the kids seems to like their parents ... I don't need an inspiring happy ending for everything I read, far from it, but while I didn't hate The Year We Left Home I didn't enjoy it either.