Reading for a Hopeful Ending

After multiple evenings away from home, last night I allowed myself the luxury of time on the couch with a novel. The narrative and characters of Home, by Marilynne Robinson, have captured my attention in a way I didn't expect (her last book, Gilead, was beautiful, but I wouldn't call it gripping), and I continue turning "just one more page before I go to bed..."

 

You probably wouldn't label this book as "gripping," either.  I'm not on the edge of my seat, reeling from dramatic plot twists.  Rather, I feel like I've been sitting at Glory Boughton's kitchen table, listening to her haltingly unpack her heart, and I cannot walk away without her story continuing to whisper in my ear.  I care about what happens to Glory and her wayward brother, Jack, and I want to keep reading.  But Robinson isn't hurrying this, so neither can I.

 

Different books require various kinds of reading. I'll admit to skimming chick lit, reading for the ending, even though I already know the girl will get the guy. Well-written literature, however, requires its readers to walk through life at the pace of the characters, to feel what they're feeling.  When I read a book such as this one, a subtle shift happens within me. Instead of seeking the happy ending, where every last loose end is sewn up in the epilogue, I become hungry for a hopeful ending. 

 

I want Glory to find genuine fulfillment in her life. I want Jack to find his place in his family and this world.  I want there to be a resolution to the deep questions resounding silently within these characters. Marilynne Robinson has made me yearn for redemption in the midst of brokenness, and I keep reading, hoping to find it.  I'm waiting for it to show up, ready to cherish the smallest evidences of hope.

 

I think we're made to live life in a similar way to how good fiction must be read. We have to engage.  Choosing to feel the weight of our own or someone else's plot twists can feel heavy, tedious, painful. But it also makes us yearn for redemption.  When we truly feel the destructive force of sin and the messiness of our fallen world, we become hungry for better.  It makes us remember that this world is not our home, that we were made for eternity. 

 

I'm going to keep turning those pages.