The Rabbit Hutch by Tess Gunty: A review

Set in the dying (fictional) town of Vacca Vale, Indiana, The Rabbit Hutch introduces us to four teenagers who share an apartment in the housing development officially named La Lapiniere Affordable Housing Complex but more familiarly known as "The Rabbit Hutch." They are Blandine, Jack, Todd, and Malik, all 18 or 19 and recently aged out of the state's foster care system.

As a bit of an aside, we also get to know of a plan to develop an area adjoining Vacca Vale, a place called Chastity Valley. As a further aside, we learn about a child star from a 1960s sitcom. But always at the center of the story is Blandine, once known as Tiffany.

Blandine is a brilliant and talented high school dropout who is fixated on the lives of female mystics and saints. The events of her story take place over five days from July 15 through July 19 in some unstated year. The book is divided into five parts and the various chapters in each part are told from the perspective of one of the characters.

We see Blandine as very much alone in the world in spite of all the people around her. Moreover, she is obsessed with the idea of saving that world. She is essentially a very idealistic and hopeful character. Her hero is Hildegard of Bingen, "prophet, composer, botanist, abbess, theologian, doctor, preacher, philosopher, writer, saint, Doctor of the Church. A veritable polymath." She strives to live up to that image.

There were a lot of characters in this book and I found it a bit difficult to keep up with them all and to keep them all separate in my mind. Some of the guys just seemed to blend together. Those guys were part of several different storylines, and again, I found it hard to follow them all while keeping these characters individualized in my mind. (I admit that may be a shortcoming of my mind!)

This book was well-written. Tess Gunty definitely has a way with words. My only criticism really is that it felt to me as if she was trying to do too much here. Maybe she could stick to one storyline and a smaller cast of characters next time. I would definitely like to read that book!

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...

Poetry Sunday: Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney

My mother was a farm wife and a prodigious canner. She canned fruit and vegetables from the garden, even occasionally meat. But the best thing that she canned, in my opinion, was blackberry jam. Even as I type those words my mouth waters! Of course, before she could make that jam, somebody had to pick the blackberries. And that somebody was quite often named Dorothy. I think Seamus Heaney might have spent some time among the briars plucking those delicious black fruits as well, so he would have known that "Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour." They don't keep; you have to get that jam made in a hurry! Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust ...

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...

The Nature of Things

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