Neverhome by Laird Hunt

I've always thought it goofy when people say they read a book and then love it so much they immediately flip back to the first page and read it again. Goofy is the wrong word here. Stupid is what I actually mean. I think it's stupid and I hate it. There are so many books in the world! I understand reading the same book twice. Like a year or ten later but back to back? No. Believe me when I say I cannot describe how ludicrous I think this is. 

   

     So, I'm about to eat crow. I would totally do an immediate reread of Neverhome. This is huge. But seriously, this book is sheer brilliance. It is gentle and violent in synchronized turns. The main plot alone is enough reason to read this book. But add to that the wealth of other stories going on around it. It's as though Laird Hunt had 100 story ideas and instead of writing them all he fleshed out one and mixed in the rest for good measure. And he did so masterfully. The reader never feels inundated with names and places and who what where when blah! Yet there's so much going on! And it is seamless. 

     

     The writing is exquisite. Which sounds really pretentious but trust me on this. It's creative and inventive and different but never overwrought. While reading this book I never got the sense that I was back in a college writing workshop sitting across from someone who had written yet another essay about their angst, or how their saxophone is like the wind. The author never came across as trying too hard.  When people try new things with language that is hard to pull off! At least to me. I have a very low cheese tolerance. 

     There's this scene in the book where the main character describes her mother and the author builds a scene in which the mother is getting out of the tub and she has springs for legs. It sounds kooky and too...far out when I describe it. But it's actually weird and genius AND still accessible and dammit if it doesn't work. Like work, WORK. 

     I've tried thinking of other books I've read that manage what Neverhome does and I am hard pressed. Some of Annie Dillard's later books manage to be creative yet not flowery or floofy or gaggy sentimental. And plenty of other books manage to be intense page-turners. Laird Hunt marries the two in Neverhome. It's simply the best. I really wish more people had it on their radar so we could discuss it to an unhealthy extent. So read it.