Oh, that shiny new book appeal, far greater than the appeal of new cars, and somewhere right up there with new records. After months of playing the waiting game, my library finally placed a sizable order for new books about a month ago, books that have since been cataloged and placed on the shelf. I was nosing through them last week when one exceptional cover caught me eye. I did what I always do in that situation, I read the flap copy and if it appeals, I flip to the middle and read a random paragraph. I was sold instantly on this one.
A Children's Bible by Lydia Millet
(W.W. Norton, 2020)
Parents are shapeless masses drowning in alcohol, drugs, and a yearning for their youth. They are worthless in the eyes of their children. Children who have been dragged along for a months long reunion of matured college friends. Children left to entertain themselves while the grown friends wallow in all the pointlessness of grown-up life.
The mansion where they are vacationing holds little appeal for the children, ranging in age from 10 to 17. It is an old fashioned mansion in an undisclosed location that resembles the Hamptons, or the Cape, or anywhere not too far from the sea where rich people go to spend their time. Of course, devices were confiscated so that the children could appreciate the time, but it only ends up adding to the alienation they feel toward the older generation.
Then the storm comes.
Millet's sublime writing enriches this perfectly crafted novel, elevating it truly biblical proportions. Part Lord of the Flies, part Oryx and Crake, part The Road, this novel's scope and power build so carefully that they settle upon the reader like a wave that gave no indication of its arrival. An absolutely stunning novel that I don't expect I will ever forget.
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