{"id":16799,"date":"2015-10-20T00:38:41","date_gmt":"2015-10-20T04:38:41","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/?p=16799"},"modified":"2015-10-20T00:40:44","modified_gmt":"2015-10-20T04:40:44","slug":"kent-haruf-our-souls-at-night","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/2015\/10\/20\/kent-haruf-our-souls-at-night\/","title":{"rendered":"Kent Haruf: Our Souls at Night<\/em>"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n

The American novelist Kent Haruf,\u00a0who wrote six novels, often depicting the old and lonely,\u00a0died last November at 71 years old. Haruf\u2019s\u00a0final novel, Our Souls at Night<\/em> (2015),\u00a0brings together another elderly couple, Addie and Louis, two vivid, flawed, likeable, and completely believable characters.<\/p>\n

\"Our<\/p>\n

They\u2019re both widowed, in the final stretch of their lives. They\u2019re both virile creatures, not likely to be found on the porch in wistful, happily-ignored reminiscence. These are doers. Only, there\u2019s very little to do in this particular town, other than fail to mind your own business — and Addie decides to make a suggestion to Louis, who lives nearby, that will give local intrigue vultures plenty to chew on.<\/p>\n

Yes. Well, I\u2019m just going to say it.<\/span><\/p>\n

I\u2019m listening, Louis said.<\/span><\/p>\n

I wonder if you would consider coming to my house sometimes to sleep with me.<\/span><\/p>\n

What? How do you mean?<\/span><\/p>\n

I mean we\u2019re both alone. We\u2019ve been by ourselves for too long. For years. I\u2019m lonely. I think you might be too. I wonder if you would come and sleep in the night with me. And talk.<\/span><\/p>\n

He stared at her, watching her, curious now, cautious.<\/span><\/p>\n

You don\u2019t say anything. Have I taken your breath away? she said.<\/span><\/p>\n

I guess you have.<\/span><\/p>\n

I\u2019m not talking about sex.<\/span><\/p>\n

I wondered.<\/span><\/p>\n

No, not sex. I\u2019m not looking at it that way. I think I\u2019ve lost any sexual impulse a long time ago. I\u2019m talking about getting through the night. And lying warm in bed, companionably. Lying down in bed together and you staying the night. The nights are the worst. Don\u2019t you think?<\/span><\/p>\n

Yes. I think so.<\/span><\/p>\n

I end up taking pills to go to sleep and reading too late and then I feel groggy the next day. No use at all to myself or anybody else.<\/span><\/p>\n

I\u2019ve had that myself.<\/span><\/p>\n

But I think I could sleep again if there were someone else in bed with me. Someone nice. The closeness of that. Talking in the night, in the dark. She waited. What do you think?<\/span><\/p>\n

I don\u2019t know. When would you want to start?<\/span><\/p>\n

Whenever you want to. If, she said, you want to. This week.<\/span><\/p>\n

Let me think about it.<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

He doesn\u2019t turn Addie down; he\u2019s too curious, and has always liked her from afar. When he mentions his wondering about whether or not he should\u2019ve visited to see what he might do when Addie\u2019s husband had died, she chides him for his reluctance. There\u2019s plenty of gentle mutual mockery — this is a staunchly fun arrangement.<\/p>\n

What else do you want to know?<\/span><\/p>\n

Where you came from. Where you grew up. What you were like as a girl. What your parents were like. If you have brothers or sisters. How you met Carl. What\u2019s your relationship with your son. Why you moved to Holt. Who your friends are. What you believe. What party you vote for.<\/span><\/p>\n

We\u2019re going to have a lot of fun talking, aren\u2019t we? she said. I want to know all that about you too.<\/span><\/p>\n

We don\u2019t have to rush it, he said.<\/span><\/p>\n

No, let\u2019s take our time.<\/span><\/p>\n

She turned in bed and shut off the lamp and again he looked at her bright hair in the light and her bare shoulders, and then in the dark she took his hand and said goodnight and soon she was asleep. It was surprising to him, how quickly she could fall asleep.<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

No one else is interested in this stuff of long-gone biographical detail, not even, anymore, themselves. They\u2019ve permanently mothballed a lot of it: too painful; too apparently uninteresting. Of no consequence.<\/p>\n

What Addie and Louis\u2019s unexpected after-hours rapprochement provides is a restoration of the stuff of each life. They rummage around in each other\u2019s pasts and enliven apparently long-dead moments. They talk about the death of Addie\u2019s daughter, an event that seems to have irreparably devastated her son, Gene. They negotiate Louis\u2019 harrowing, doomed affair. They bond over the twists and turns of two lives and are rejuvenated in their colloquy.<\/p>\n

The town talks about what\u2019s happening — this is by far the most interesting bit of intrigue to have happened in years around these parts — but the real threat to this arrangement is Addie\u2019s son, Gene. Gene\u2019s son, Addie\u2019s grandson, comes to stay. He\u2019s being spared the squabbling disintegration of his parents\u2019 marriage, and during his lengthy spell with Grandma forms a fatherly bond with Louis, the kind of bond Gene — terminally selfish, ruined — could never provide. Part of Haruf\u2019s brilliance is in making Gene both an effective spoiler and a complex, empathetic character. He hasn\u2019t grown beyond the tragedy of his sister\u2019s violent demise.<\/p>\n

Gene is predictably dismissive of Louis, and spiteful regarding his time with his son. He threatens to withdraw the boy, stop him seeing grandma, if his mother continues to have Louis round. It\u2019s a despicably cruel act, but it\u2019s not a situation Addie can resolve. It\u2019s Haruf giving the world its due. These nights of solace and kinship and bold cancellation of expectations of decorum and tolerant dwindling were a brief flash of light and life. Addie sticks with family and inexorably chooses self-abnegation, presumably hoping she can at least try and offset the likelihood of her grandson emulating his father.<\/p>\n

Because Addie and Louis are so expertly drawn, Haruf can have them bear the burden of virtually all the narrative propulsion. This is a swift, sure, and efficient stab to the heart. These are world-weary old timers who stubbornly and simply refuse to allow convention to cloud what may still be possible, however long is left. They\u2019re still looking for answers, despite knowing there are none, but are happy to be in the game, not simply looking on. There\u2019s a quiet defiant euphoria to this that pushes you through the pages, wanting them to find some kind of resolution.<\/p>\n

The author wrote this right at the end of his life, and in producing a piece of work this eloquently pained and admirably optimistic (that strange Harufian paradox: sadly, uncompromisingly wise but open-minded and ready to be pleasantly surprised) has afforded us a supremely generous, accomplished, and rare perspective.<\/p>\n

A considerable part of the book\u2019s force, then, is probably down to the circumstances surrounding its composition. Our Souls at Night<\/em> often feels like an antidote to the idea of any kind of “grand final statement” but is nonetheless imbued with a kind of conclusive gravitas. It\u2019s the least importunate last word you could imagine, and that serves to heighten a sense of resounding culmination.<\/p>\n

Very little happens, but the setup is so masterfully executed that every word feels like a revelation. Conversations about the most potentially anodyne matters are charged with a terrible, hypnotic, tragic luminosity. These are minds not ready to be closed; these are people who will be as interested in how their final moments feel as they will be devastated by them. This is a deeply-felt plea for forgiveness and understanding and the necessity of companionship and comradeship. It\u2019s also unquestionably a minor masterwork.<\/p>\n

Here\u2019s a scene from close to the end of the novel. At this point, Addie and Louis are separated for good. It could be unbearably moving, but Haruf\u2019s going out with a smile just the right side of ambivalent.<\/p>\n

One night she called him on her cell phone. She was sitting in a chair at her apartment. Will you talk to me?<\/span><\/p>\n

There was a long silence.<\/span><\/p>\n

Louis, are you there? she said.<\/span><\/p>\n

I thought we weren\u2019t going to talk anymore.<\/span><\/p>\n

I have to. I can\u2019t go on like this. It\u2019s worse than before we ever started.<\/span><\/p>\n

What about Gene?<\/span><\/p>\n

He doesn\u2019t have to know. We can talk on the phone at night.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then this seems like sneaking. Like he said. Being secretive.<\/span><\/p>\n

I don\u2019t care. I\u2019m too lonely. I miss you too much. Won\u2019t you talk to me?<\/span><\/p>\n

I miss you too, he said. Where are you?<\/span><\/p>\n

You mean where in the house?<\/span><\/p>\n

Are you in your bedroom?<\/span><\/p>\n

Yes, I\u2019ve been reading.<\/span><\/p>\n

Is this some kind of phone sex?<\/span><\/p>\n

It\u2019s just two old people talking in the dark, Addie said.<\/span><\/p><\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Lee reviews Kent Haruf’s final book, Our Souls at Night<\/em>. Read the full post<\/u><\/a>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":8,"featured_media":16800,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"libsyn-item-id":0,"libsyn-show-id":0,"libsyn-post-error":"","libsyn-post-error_post-type":"","libsyn-post-error_post-permissions":"","libsyn-post-error_api":"","playlist-podcast-url":"","libsyn-episode-thumbnail":"","libsyn-episode-widescreen_image":"","libsyn-episode-blog_image":"","libsyn-episode-background_image":"","libsyn-post-episode-category-selection":"","libsyn-post-episode-player_use_thumbnail":"","libsyn-post-episode-player_use_theme":"","libsyn-post-episode-player_height":"","libsyn-post-episode-player_width":"","libsyn-post-episode-player_placement":"","libsyn-post-episode-player_use_download_link":"","libsyn-post-episode-player_use_download_link_text":"","libsyn-post-episode-player_custom_color":"","libsyn-post-episode-itunes-explicit":"","libsyn-post-episode":"","libsyn-post-episode-update-id3":"","libsyn-post-episode-release-date":"","libsyn-post-episode-simple-download":"","libsyn-release-date":"","libsyn-post-update-release-date":"","libsyn-is_draft":"","libsyn-new-media-media":"","libsyn-post-episode-subtitle":"","libsyn-new-media-image":"","libsyn-post-episode-keywords":"","libsyn-post-itunes":"","libsyn-post-episode-itunes-episode-number":"","libsyn-post-episode-itunes-season-number":"","libsyn-post-episode-itunes-episode-type":"","libsyn-post-episode-itunes-episode-title":"","libsyn-post-episode-itunes-episode-author":"","libsyn-destination-releases":"","libsyn-post-episode-advanced-destination-form-data":"","libsyn-post-episode-advanced-destination-form-data-enabled":"","libsyn-post-episode-advanced-destination-form-data-input-enabled":false,"libsyn-post-episode-premium_state":"","libsyn-episode-shortcode":"","libsyn-episode-embedurl":"","_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[800,808],"tags":[],"coauthors":[516],"class_list":["post-16799","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-book-reviews","category-kent-haruf"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/10\/Our-Souls-at-Night.jpg?fit=808%2C1200&ssl=1","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pqqvZ-4mX","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":false,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/16799","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/8"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=16799"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/16799\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":16810,"href":"https:\/\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/16799\/revisions\/16810"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/16800"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=16799"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=16799"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=16799"},{"taxonomy":"author","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mookseandgripes.com\/reviews\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/coauthors?post=16799"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}