Gilead: A Novel | 
 enlarge | Author: Marilynne Robinson
Publisher: Picador
Category: Book
List Price: $14.00
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Rating:  310 reviews
Sales Rank: 1056
Media: Paperback
Edition: 1st Picador
Pages: 256
Number Of Items: 1
Shipping Weight (lbs): 0.6
Dimensions (in): 8 x 5.5 x 0.8
ISBN: 031242440X
Dewey Decimal Number: 813.54
EAN: 9780312424404
ASIN: 031242440X
Publication Date: January 10, 2006
Availability: Usually ships in 1-2 business days
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Amazon.com Review
In 1981, Marilynne Robinson wrote Housekeeping, which won the PEN/Hemingway Award and became a modern classic. Since then, she has written two pieces of nonfiction: Mother Country and The Death of Adam. With Gilead, we have, at last, another work of fiction. As with The Great Fire, Shirley Hazzards's return, 22 years after The Transit of Venus, it was worth the long wait. Books such as these take time, and thought, and a certain kind of genius. There are no invidious comparisons to be made. Robinson's books are unalike in every way but one: the same incisive thought and careful prose illuminate both. The narrator, John Ames, is 76, a preacher who has lived almost all of his life in Gilead, Iowa. He is writing a letter to his almost seven-year-old son, the blessing of his second marriage. It is a summing-up, an apologia, a consideration of his life. Robinson takes the story away from being simply the reminiscences of one man and moves it into the realm of a meditation on fathers and children, particularly sons, on faith, and on the imperfectability of man. The reason for the letter is Ames's failing health. He wants to leave an account of himself for this son who will never really know him. His greatest regret is that he hasn't much to leave them, in worldly terms. "Your mother told you I'm writing your begats, and you seemed very pleased with the idea. Well, then. What should I record for you?" In the course of the narrative, John Ames records himself, inside and out, in a meditative style. Robinson's prose asks the reader to slow down to the pace of an old man in Gilead, Iowa, in 1956. Ames writes of his father and grandfather, estranged over his grandfather's departure for Kansas to march for abolition and his father's lifelong pacifism. The tension between them, their love for each other and their inability to bridge the chasm of their beliefs is a constant source of rumination for John Ames. Fathers and sons. The other constant in the book is Ames's friendship since childhood with "old Boughton," a Presbyterian minister. Boughton, father of many children, favors his son, named John Ames Boughton, above all others. Ames must constantly monitor his tendency to be envious of Boughton's bounteous family; his first wife died in childbirth and the baby died almost immediately after her. Jack Boughton is a ne'er-do-well, Ames knows it and strives to love him as he knows he should. Jack arrives in Gilead after a long absence, full of charm and mischief, causing Ames to wonder what influence he might have on Ames's young wife and son when Ames dies. These are the things that Ames tells his son about: his ancestors, the nature of love and friendship, the part that faith and prayer play in every life and an awareness of one's own culpability. There is also reconciliation without resignation, self-awareness without deprecation, abundant good humor, philosophical queries--Jack asks, "'Do you ever wonder why American Christianity seems to wait for the real thinking to be done elsewhere?'"--and an ongoing sense of childlike wonder at the beauty and variety of God's world. In Marilynne Robinson's hands, there is a balm in Gilead, as the old spiritual tells us. --Valerie Ryan
Product Description
Twenty-four years after her first novel, Housekeeping, Marilynne Robinson returns with an intimate tale of three generations from the Civil War to the twentieth century: a story about fathers and sons and the spiritual battles that still rage at America's heart. Writing in the tradition of Emily Dickinson and Walt Whitman, Marilynne Robinson's beautiful, spare, and spiritual prose allows "even the faithless reader to feel the possibility of transcendent order" (Slate). In the luminous and unforgettable voice of Congregationalist minister John Ames, Gilead reveals the human condition and the often unbearable beauty of an ordinary life.
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| Customer Reviews: Read 45 more reviews...
 A Disappointment January 6, 2009
Janice E. Harman (Charleston, SC)
The "build up" on the fly and back cover of this book would lead you to believe that it is more than it is. I found it hard to follow for the first 100 pages, lost interest, kept reading for a book group and finally finished it, otherwise I would not have.
 So incredibly BORING January 6, 2009
Jennifer Lichtenfeld (Silver Spring, Maryland USA)
1 out of 2 found this review helpful
This book is written from the perspective of Reverend John Ames who is nearing the end of his life and has decided to write down his life's thoughts for his young son. He married and conceived a child late in life and is afraid that his son will never really know him. This narrative is an effort to leave something behind for his son to read and discover. He writes of his parents and family, how he met his wife, and the daily goings on as he writes the memoir.
This book is incredibly slow and dull. I am amazed by all of the reviews that talk of the exquisite writing and masterful storytelling. It took me over a month to plow through 247 pages. There is nothing interesting about the story and the good Reverand just seems to like the idea of his own thoughts. In many ways, instead of being insightful and touching, it is selfish and indulgent.
Well Written but The Subject Matter Bored Me January 2, 2009
Richard Pittman (Toronto, ON Canada)
0 out of 1 found this review helpful
It almost goes without saying that Marilynne Robinson is a skilled writer. This novel is a sentimental letter from a man in his 70s to his young son from a much younger wife. His words are full of love and sorrow that he will never see his son grow up. I've often been known to be susceptible to semtimentality but the emotion in the novel did not resonate for me.
I saw a number of reviews indicating this was slow paced and I was prepared to take my time with this book. As a lapsed Roman Catholic that went to church each Sunday in my youth, I have certainly heard enough sermons in my life. I found this book to be a long and boring sermon and the theological minutiae in it really didn't interest me.
I found this to be hard work and I struggled to finish the book. I frequently drifted into other thoughts while reading it as the subject matter did not hold my attention.
This is an extremely well reviewed book that means a lot to a lot of people and I gave it an honest effort but the subject matter was just not for me.
Well written, but not engaging December 30, 2008
M. Hooper (Kirksville, MO USA)
"I was struck by the way the light fell that afternoon. I have paid a good deal of attention to light, but no one could begin to do it justice. There was the feeling of a weight of light--pressing the damp out of the grass and pressing the smell of sour old sap out of the boards on the porch floor and burdening even the trees a little as a late snow would do. It was the kind of light that rests on your shoulders the way a cat lies on your lap. So familiar."
I'm a little embarrassed to say that I gave up on this one. I know it won a Pulitzer, and the last Pulitzer Prize-winner I read was amazing, click here to see my review of Oscar Wao, but I just couldn't do it. I made it to page 76, but I kept falling asleep on the couch.
The language is beautiful and stark, but nothing is happening. The premise of the book is an elderly father recording the story of his family for a very young son, who the father knows he will not be able to watch grow up. It's a touching idea, and works well for the beginning, but I would have liked to have read more family stories and less, I'm watching you and your mother blow soap bubbles at the cat.
horrible! December 28, 2008
Jim Huang (Boston, MA, USA)
1 out of 2 found this review helpful
So bad it's offensive. Why is this "fiction"? It's pages and pages of the main character (and I guess by extrension, the author) spouting his opinion on God and religion and fatherhood in a very boring way.
I recommend "The Road", by Cormac McCarthy. Now there's an enjoyable read, and arguably about the same set of topics!
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