STARLIGHT AND MOONSHINE

Grief manifests itself in unique ways throughout this sharp novel.

A newspaper entry from the Detroit News of March 25, 1980, reveals that a woman named Hannah Fallon has died after crashing into a tree while driving home with a 0.3% blood alcohol level. The book unfolds from a dizzying array of perspectives, diving into the lives of the people affected by Hannah’s death: her husband, James; her adult children, Mary, Colleen, and Jack; and her sister-in-law, Adelaide. Jack seems to be the favorite among everyone in the family: “It’s not right to love one more than the others, but all mothers do really, no matter what they say,” Hannah says in a flashback of sorts. Addy imagines him a “leading actor in a movie,” but he spends his days cleaning the surgical intensive care unit at a local hospital, which is viewed as a waste of his talents. He spends his evenings napping, seemingly waiting for his grief to pass. Colleen, the middle child, is an aspiring chef working as a bank teller to save money for culinary school. Her mother’s death affects her the most traditionally, and she spends the days after the tragedy crying relentlessly. Mary, the eldest, yearns for the body of her new fling, Roman, wanting to be anywhere but home. James spends his days and nights avoiding his children, seemingly too stricken with grief to interact with his family. James’ sister Addy lacks empathy, failing to understand why so much has changed in the aftermath of Hannah’s death. “And then she starts with the waterworks again, feeling sorry for herself like she’s the only one ever lost a mother,” she thinks harshly about Colleen. Each character is united in free fall, searching for whatever’s next, linked by a sadness that’s nearly palpable.

A testament to the power of the tableau, rather than a more traditional narrative.