DUSK NIGHT DAWN

Another helping of pop philosophy from the prolific writer.

“Here we are, older, scared, numb on some days, enraged on others, with even less trust than we had a year ago,” Lamott writes of such challenges as the pandemic and threats to American democracy and to the planet in general. “Where on earth do we start to get our world and joy and hope and our faith in life itself back?” In these short essays, similar in style and tone as Almost Everything, Hallelujah Anyway, Small Victories, and the author’s other works of nonfiction, she ventures some answers. Mixed in with details of her personal life, including her first marriage (at age 65) to a man who, unlike her, is not a Christian; her struggles with alcoholism; and the Sunday school classes she teaches near her California home, the book addresses such topics as forgiveness, repentance, climate change, and more. Though the book will appeal to her longtime fans, the essays are marred by observations that are trite or just plain obvious. For example: “Maturity is retaining a modicum of grace when you do not get your own way”; “Growing up is hard”; “You make the plan but you don’t plan the result.” Other statements will be open to debate—e.g., “Darkness can be so soothing when you know it won’t last forever”; “Love is being with a person wherever they are, however they are acting.” It says something about this book that its best line is a misquote of Kurt Vonnegut, who, in a 1994 Syracuse University commencement speech, said he told his grandchildren (Lamott says it was his children) when they complained about the state of the planet, “Don’t look at me, I just got here myself.” For Lamott devotees, file alongside the aforementioned books; others can take a pass.

A simplistic attempt at hope in troubled times.