MT. MORIAH'S WAKE

A woman returns home after years of self-imposed exile and confronts unresolved trauma.

JoAnna Wilson grows up in Mt. Moriah, a quiet redoubt in the genteel American South. However, the cozy bubble of her happy life was twice burst by tragedy—when only 8 years old, both her parents die suddenly, and she’s raised by her Aunt Doro, who becomes like a mother to her. Years later, JoAnna’s best friend, Grace Collins, is brutally murdered, a crime that goes unsolved. JoAnna flees Mt. Moriah for Chicago to pursue her dream of becoming a writer. She marries Tom Rivers, who at least for a while is a source of loving comfort or as she puts it, a “balm to my scarred heart.” Nevertheless, JoAnna mourns Grace acutely and suffers inexplicable guilt—and a terrifying sense that some threat remains: “I had the disconcerting feeling that there was something to worry about—something unfinished, unsaid. A nagging doubt lingered at the edge of my subconscious.” Carro sensitively chronicles JoAnna’s emotional struggle—upon Aunt Doro’s death, she returns home, and old demons barely silenced demand an audience. The prose, however, abounds with tiresome clichés: “You can leave home, but home never leaves you.” Also, Carro can reach too strenuously for a homiletic lesson, especially regarding the protagonist’s recovery of her faith. Finally, the novel is simply too long, and the plot unfurls at a sluggish amble. The author’s emotional astuteness and the depth of her characters remain impressive but not impressive enough to make this a fully worthwhile read.

A slow, often platitudinous emotional drama.