Crow Lake
by Mary Lawson
I started reading Crow Lake the Friday before school started and put it down reluctantly after only a few chapters–and, of course, the busyness of the new year kept it lying on my dresser for the past five days. With B. gone all day, I was able to take it up again–and couldn’t stop.
The hinted-at Greek tragedy wasn’t as monumental as I would have thought–although, I suppose, that just may have been Lawson’s point. Kate Morrison took her brother’s fate to a realm that was more her fantasy than his reality, and so what she leads us to believe is a tragic fate is simply … life happening. Lest I sound glib about orphaned children, an unplanned pregnancy, murder, and a university education left behind, the “life happening” was difficult. But difficult in the way that our lives are messy, complicated, and often fall short of our expectations.
What I found most disturbing was Kate’s emotional vacuum–until I realized that I’ve done the same when living through a crisis. In fact, I would be hard-pressed to recall my own emotional life during those years of single-parenthood. Most compelling was Kate’s realization that the family history she had created was more fiction than fact–based on the life she had wanted them all to live, on the people she had wanted them to be. That’s probably the single-most important lesson I’ve learned in the past several years–that love is much easier (and rich and satisfying) when you love the person who IS, not the person you think you want them to be.
Crow Lake is a good read–and Lawson’s insight is spot on.
This is my symphony 