We Hope for Better Things

I absolutely devoured this book. Undoubtedly, I am somewhat biased because the book is set in Michigan and so, in many ways, simply feels like home. More than that, though, I am in awe of the way that Erin Bartels essentially writes three separate stories about distantly-related women living in different times (the 1860s, the 1960s, and today) but in the same house (in Lapeer) and deftly weaves them together.

Regular readers of this blog will know that I frequently complain about books that have even two parallel storylines because too often one or the other suffers. Bartels manages all three beautifully, so that the reader reaches the end of We Hope for Better Things with an equal appreciation for all three. What's more, she doesn't insist on tying up every possible loose end for the sake of offering up a clean resolution by the closing pages. Her book is like life: beautiful and messy, warm and heavy, seldom with easy answers.

So, Elizabeth Balsam is an investigative reporter for the Free Press when an elderly gentleman contacts her out of the blue to return some old photos to an equally-elderly relative, Nora, that Elizabeth didn't know existed. Elizabeth learns from other relatives that Nora, in fact, may have a touch of dementia and, down on her luck and out of options in Detroit, Elizabeth agrees to move into Nora's remote farmhouse to determine whether Nora can remain on her own. Once there, she becomes fascinated by the history of the house and her family, particularly Mary, who presided over house and farm in the midst of the Civil War. Slowly, as Elizabeth and Nora get to know one another better, Elizabeth pieces together the stories of her family's history.

But not all of it. As I said before, Bartels doesn't wrap everything up and tie it with a bow. There's an acknowledgement that after so much time and so many generations, some of that history would be lost, and what hasn't been lost may still be distorted. In the end, she allows her reader to fill in the blanks, or not, all of which makes for an outstanding work of fiction.

My only criticism is that, as best I can calculate, Bartels's dates are slightly off. I'm just not convinced that Nora is quite as "elderly" as she's made out to be, and I'm also having a bit of difficulty with the math that would have have Nora's grandfather, George, born in the 1860s. Not impossible, but enough to set me to calculating more than one, with pen and paper, how these characters were all related and when they appeared to be born. In the grand scheme of things, though, that is but a minor quibble.

Five stars.