hi Bookies all, from up river recalling what good books we Bookies tend to read then further “improve” with our lively conversations, reliably over tasty food & drinks + absorbing side stories, I’m still totally taken by William Maxwell’s SO LONG. And as usual, Jessica—in Maxwell style—you were wonderfully attentive to every detail, without fanfare, perfect . . . except for missing a few folks. So four of us around the table took on So Long, See You Tomorrow, an excellent replacement [we agreed], for our original choice, Saunders’ VIGIL.
Starting with the main players & frame, this story is set in Maxwell’s actual hometown, Lincoln, Illinoise, 50+ years after he, as haunted narrator, tells the story of neighboring tenant-farmer families: 1) the Smiths: Clarence & Fern, who [when younger] loved another man, is reacting to her father: proving him wrong [ha] w/this marriage, then doesn’t really love Clarence, tho they have 2 sons: Cletus & Wayne + dog Trixie, beautifully drawn we agreed: a sympathetic character!] & 2) the Wilsons [Lloyd, Marie, 2 sons, 4 daughters, & Grace: 2nd wife]. Deep friendship, an affair, + divorce court settlement lead to the murder of Lloyd Wilson & suicide of Clarence Smith. The narrator [author] simultaneously shows us his own childhood, the ultimate tragedy: his mother’s death 2 days after the birth of her 3rd son, & how this along w/his failure to support fellow-construction-site-explorer Cletus, eldest son of the murderer, Clarence–how all this shaped him. We also noted Aunt Jenny as important—like other women & sisters, tending to be care-takers. Much to admire & pour over, assess & take to heart, we agreed, in this small & unusually concise, sensitive book.
We also felt some frustration w/the structure. The way that Maxwell explained his childhood through both the narrator’s reflections & the private thoughts of varied characters was sometimes challenging. Sense prevailed, however, assisted by the clarity of the author’s intent, his exquisite writing, understatement, social awareness, & heart. Our respect seemed even deeper learning how closely the store adhered to his life: set in his hometown, his mother dying during a 1919 epidemic, that the book is based on an actual 1922 murder that occurred back when Maxwell & narrator were ~12 years old.
Hearing Maxwell/narrator characterize this book as “a roundabout, futile way of making amends” was difficult—even at the start (p.6) & reinforced at the end. We acknowledged the power of recognizing the boy who knew the murder’s son back when the crime occurred in 1922 as the narrator [& author!] writing this book 50+ years later trying to address his own regrets. Yikes. We also reminded ourselves of the historical context: set just after WWI—hard times with the influenza epidemic of 1918, the ‘20’s depression, struggles for newcomers—distinctions in surviving and optimizing the self, + how adultery destroyed families.
Quite a load of tragedies intensify the emotional tenor of the book, & we touched on the gentle way Maxwell helps us anticipate meaningful moments. In few words, he alerts us to significance, as with the causal bullets on page 6 that clue us to the significance of 1) the murderer as a father with a son known to the narrator & 2) a shameful event. Also telling is the narrator’s awareness that seeing his father happy in an old photo album is troubling—a threat: “It was not the kind of happiness that children are in, but why should that trouble me now? [20 years after his father’s death] I do not even begin to understand it.” We get a clue this book will give no easy answers. Maxwell’s succinct style & vivid images embed, too—like the snake unable to swallow a big frog that “wouldn’t go down”—akin to the betrayal he felt w/his father’s marriage: another woman at the dinner table AND in his father’s heart! Children’s feelings are conveyed w/respect, w/an emphasis on the mighty impact of adult behavior on children—parents in particular. We felt all this made for a sober plot, sad yet warmed by the insightful resonant moments—images that stand, like the two boys walking the struts of the house the narrator’s family was building, departing from their explorations w/a simple So long, see you tomorrow. Until all changes: Cletus, another victim of the killing, and his family vanish.
In good Bookies style, we also indulged varied asides. Local writer Lauren Kessler’s latest book Everything Changes Everything: Love, Loss, and a Really Long Walk, drew attention—prompted by recent local readings + Margie’s reading of it. Also a memoir, this one involved with grief after the deaths of her husband & daughter [his cancer/death-with-dignity, hers a drug overdose], Kessler walks off across the world alone on a 500-mile Camino trek, step by step processing, believing she will reset the clock, establish a firm Before-After line & move forward, NOW, This contrasts w/Maxwell’s way; living decades with his material, he sleeps, eats, ages 4 or 5 decades, finally writing this book after a long absorption/digestion process attentive to detail & disclosure. These unlike responses brought to mind Sybil, of The Correspondent, & her treatment of the tragic death of her 8-year-old son—turning to books, letters, distancing & avoidance, until circumstances force her awakening to freshened awareness, & like Maxwell recognize that the actions of adults have huge impacts on children. Death and shame, we see, elicit a range of distinct responses—and books!
As suggested to us by SO LONG’S narrator, this is not to be a book about happiness, which I think Jessica also emphasized (or Margie? Laura?). This led us to the sobering scene when Lloyd’s 1st wife Marie, mother of 2 sons & 4 daughters, asks of her husband, “How could you do this to him? —emphasis on “him,” & the betrayal of the men’s deep friendship, not on the wrong he had done his wife by engaging in an affair with his best friend’s wife. We were reminded that the divorce settlement found Clarence to be the meaner man rather than the victim of adultery + set a steep monthly alimony beyond his reach. & w/his farm-tenant status lost, what options did he have? Murder, suicide. And what was his final statement? The detached ear of Lloyd, an image that holds without much discussion, mention of these being pre-Freudian times saying enough.
Taken with this writer’s backstory, we recalled the strength of THEY CAME LIKE SWALLOWS, written in 1937, set in 1918, the year of Maxwell’s mother’s death, struck by his lasting commitment to this material, all the way to SO LONG, published 43 years later, 1st in The NYer in 1979 in 2 parts, after he finished his 40-year stint as Fiction Editor [1936-1975}, bringing all that editorial prowess to his writing for another full quarter century. Master of understatement, he made every word count! This book, referred to as one of his seven novels, yet also described as “autobiographical metafiction,” may not have resolved Maxwell’s feelings of shame, but he sure researched, imagined, dreamed fully to tell/feel the story true. Named a 1981 Pulitzer finalist, the story won a 1982 National Book Award—+ pleased us Bookies, and roused my curiosity: was Maxwell a family man as well as writer & famed NYer editor? Sure enough! I’ll attach a touching obit, confirming the kind awareness we sensed in this book, & bringing to the forefront what was missing that day in the halls when the narrator spotted Cletus–meaningful eye contact.
—P.S. speaking of other books to read, several arose: The Things We Never Say, Elizabeth Strout; LAND by Maggie O’Farrell; WHISTLER—Ann Patchett; The Haunting of Hill House, by Shirley Jackson [The Lottery]; THE WITCH [mundane & magical, dreamy & disquieting] by Marie N Daiye, translated from French 2025; & maybe Ruth Ozeki, The Typing Lady? What did I miss [amidst all I added!]? —from Mary Ann:
“I’m about halfway through The Gathering by Anne Enright & sort of wishing it was nearer the end. Probably not her best? Difficult family dynamics. Lots of Irish in my family so the imprint is familiar but in this book too fraught for me. I loved her short story in the July 27 ‘25 New Yorker, The Bridge Stood Fast.
And maybe Arundahati Roy’s Mother Mary Come to Me, another memoir. Or Jayne Ann Phillips, Small Town Girls? also a memoir! Or Jennifer Erpenbeck, Kairos, shortlisted for the Booker. And coming up, June 16 at 6 :00 at Laura’s, NYer short story Cat Person ! This by Kristin Roupenian: https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2017/12/11/cat-person Then Patti Smith’s new memoir Bread of Angels , & who knows, with how impressively Maxwell’s 1980 volume pairs w/his 1937’s They Came like Swallows, we wondered if we might find ourselves settling into another from his 1934 through 1995 works.
Also, as several of us have noted, it’s troubling–devastating–to read that Marjane Satrapi, exiled in France, is gone at the age of 56—“died of sadness.” Thoughtful NYer article—thank you, Margie, our responses consistent: enormously talented & tenacious, descriptions of war-torn Tehran … harrowing; “brave and talented and she had a big impact,” daring outspoken, gone too soon. Jessica also thought of Rabih Alameddine & “The True True Story of Raja the Gullible. . . “ w/his descriptions of the attacks on Beirut. And again, like Maxwell’s SO LONG, Satrapi’s “Persepolis” is autobiography: her life growing up in Iran during the 1979 revolution & its aftermath—and now war again. Heart break.
Eugene Bookies 