Again, a writer I found out about through The New Yorker’s 20 Under 40 anthology, which is a book that keeps on giving, even if some of the gifts are better than others. C. E. Morgan, who went to the same college one of my friends is going to right now, does her best to separate herself from the 20 other writers in that collection, and for the most part, she is successful. Reading All the Living reminded me of a more accessible version of Marilynne Robinson’s Gilead, which I read last year. That book had great beauty to it, and is a damn well written piece of fiction, and so is this book. But it also suffers from parts that lag quite a bit and by an almost nonexistent plot line. We are introduced to a new couple who are just getting used to each other in Aloma and Orren, who, after Orren’s family dies in a car accident, move into his families tobacco farm to try and start a life together and are met with all the problems that come with such a task. Really very simple, and the minimal plot really works only to accentuate the delicate, almost doily-like prose that fills this mercifully short novel. If a book like this was 400 to 500 pages long, it would not be readable, but luckily it is barely 200 pages, so the beauty can be taken without to much richness, like the perfect sized piece of cake. The book does have a conflict with Aloma working at a church playing the piano, which hints at adultery, but it does not ever override the words on the page, and it moves toward an ending that is simple and sweet. While boring at some points, I cannot say much else bad about this book, which shows how metaphysical grace creeps into our normal lives, and may be one of the prettiest things you will read.
Rating: 4/5
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