"All Manner of Things" by Susie Finkbeiner
"All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well."
- Dame Julian of Norwich, a 14th-15th century mystic
Some stories entertain, some stories thrill, and some stories inspire. A few stories, however, go beyond and transport unsuspecting readers to another time and place. I expected to be transported, to an extent. I have read Susie Finkbeiner's previous "coming-of-age" series, which follows its protagonist, Pearl Spence, and her family from the dustbowl in Oklahoma to rural Michigan during the 1930s. I was quite aware that Ms. Finkbeiner has a knack for transporting readers and weaving tales which explore the small moments which make up the joys and tragedies of the shared human experience. I just wasn't quite expecting the extent to which this story would grab me by the throat.
Y'all, I didn't expect to connect to this book. I don't remember the Vietnam era or the '60s. I do know some of the music, since my mother made sure I had a thorough childhood indoctrination in the music of the '50s and '60s, but bell bottoms, peace signs, and tie dye just aren't my jam. I'm not groovy. I often tend to casually dismiss contemporary fiction set in this era, preferring to take my fictional book-trips to more exotic times and places. When I initially read the synopsis for this novel several months ago and saw the cover design, I was (I hate to admit it!) underwhelmed. Meh. Since I loved Susie Finkbeiner's previous series, however, and I was low on reading material, I decided to request an Advance Reader Copy from the publisher through NetGalley. I am happy to admit that my initial impression was WRONG.
Annie Jacobson has few memories of her father, a Korean War veteran, who disappeared from his family's life one summer morning, years after returning from a conflict which followed him home. Her younger brother, Joel, doesn't remember Frank at all. Gloria, their hard-working single mother, has singlehandedly provided for the family's needs, but she can't afford to send Annie or Mike, Annie's elder brother, to college. Annie is stuck waitressing in her cousin's diner while her best friend heads to college. Because he isn't a student, Mike isn't eligible for a draft deferment. When Mike announces that he has enlisted in the Army rather than waiting for his number to be called, the close-knit Jacobson family is deeply grieved. He maintains a correspondence with his family during his basic training, advanced training as a combat medic, and subsequent deployment. Annie struggles to maintain a semblance of a normal life while navigating both the ordinary challenges of young adulthood and the extraordinary challenges of living in an era of wartime abroad while a thinning veneer of peace rules at home.
This book grabbed me from the outset. There were momentary, fleeting connections due to references to familiar places: Lake Michigan (although I am familiar with the opposite shoreline) and Taylor University, my alma mater, feature brief cameo appearances in the Midwestern setting. Like Annie, I have heard the haunting cries of loons, hung my bare feet over the edge of a dock and watched the sun sparkle off the facets of rippling water, and floated adrift on glassy Northern lakes which mirror the wooded shoreline. While the setting blurred the lines between fiction and fact, Ms. Finkbeiner's true triumph is the characters. This story no doubt resonated deeply with me partly because of my experience as an Army wife. I know what it's like to send part of your heart to the other side of the world. I understand the tension of living in a state of uncertainty while maintaining what passes for a normal life, for the sake of those whom we love. I spent the better part of a year glancing out my kitchen window every morning to ensure that an unfamiliar vehicle with government tags wasn't parked on our cul-de-sac, because as a chaplain's wife, I was all too familiar with the casualty notification process. As a chaplain's wife, I have also had a front row seat to the challenges veterans face during both deployment and 'reintegration.' While homecoming is a sweet reunion, it also requires a re-merging of lives which may have diverged due to time apart and the trauma of war. During our time in San Antonio, my husband worked with wounded warriors, and I helped lead worship in a chapel service which was attended by many combat medics in training. Because we are intimately acquainted with maintaining balance amidst these shifting sands, an inexplicable camaraderie exists among military families, which apparently extends even to particularly well-written fictional ones.
After the first paragraph grabbed me by the throat, I whizzed through this book in under 24 hours. I'm not going to lie. It wasn't because I found every thread woven through the story pleasant. In fact, some strands were distinctly unpleasant, but they were important pieces of the whole tapestry, which was breathtaking and beautiful. You see, some stories tread closely - sometimes too closely - upon the edges of our real lives, exposing forgotten fears and hidden grief, reminding us of scars we bear or the scars of those whom we have loved. This story took me beyond the edge of fiction. For a moment, I shared a space between fantasy and reality with a young woman who only exists in the pages of a book. She is part of a sisterhood I know well. We have shared one another's fears, wiped one another's tears, cared for one another's families, and prayed desperately for one another's loved one to return home, safe and sound. I don't want to spoil the book for you, but I will simply say that the climax and denouement left my heart in my throat and tears streaming down my cheeks. It wasn't quite an ugly cry, but it was the first book in a long time which truly made me cry. Friends, this isn't a beach read or a playful, escapist romp. "Read it with a box of tissues," as Meg Ryan's character says in You've Got Mail. The Jacobson family's story will invite you to temporarily inhabit a small universe of joys and sorrows. Fair warning: it may hit too close to home right now for my sweet sisters who have currently sent part of their hearts to the other side of the world.
I can only hope that, like Susie Finkbeiner's previous character Pearl Spence, Annie Jacobson's journey isn't complete after the first installment of her story. While All Manner of Things could be a stand-alone tale, it leaves a tender ache which longs for continued restoration and renewal, recognizing that once some chapters have been written, 'happily ever after' cannot look the same as readers may have initially expected. All Manner of Things was an incredible journey into that realm somewhere between fact and fiction. I find myself longing to sit beside Annie on the dock overlooking Old Chip as the sun slowly rises over the misty tree-lined shores, listening to the cry of a loon and allowing a few tears to fall as we contemplate the ageless wisdom of the promise that our Father will trade ashes for beauty.
"...to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor."
- Isaiah 61:3
Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV® Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.®
I received a copy of this book from the publisher through NetGalley. All opinions are my own.