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Elizabeth Strout

 Elizabeth Strout writes odd and compelling characters. Artie Dam--her new protagonist--is silently considering suicide. He teaches history at a high school, and his boss has said that local pro-Trump forces are demanding curricular revisions. Artie can no longer ask his students to play the roles of Northern soldiers in a Civil War reenactment. He must now offer a choice between a Northern *or* a Confederate role.


Meanwhile, Artie has an angry protege whose talent involves Shakespeare studies. Artie's little protege causes a problem by insulting another student in class. Artie digs deeper. The insult grew from a personal wound; Artie's protege understands that his mother is having an affair, and he doesn't know what to do with his pain.

Elsewhere, Artie's adult son Rob suspects that Artie's recent boating accident was not an accident. "You have to promise me you won't kill yourself," Rob says. "Because everything you do is like a map of the stuff that is permissible for ME. And I don't want to think that suicide is permissible. I don't want to go there."

I've read every Strout novel, and this is the first time I've thought, Wow, the souffle didn't rise. This novel doesn't work. The classroom scenes are hackneyed. The plot seems both undercooked and overly contrived. At the same time, I like spending time with Artie. Few novelists ask the questions Strout asks: What is it really like to be a standard, mostly effective, unheroic teacher? (There is a memorable moment when Artie collects the kids' phones in a pillowcase, and one student loudly mutters about "that goddamn faggoty pillowcase.") What does an aging father discuss with his adult son? What happens when you make a mildly unnerving remark among colleagues at a cocktail party?

I like Strout enough that I still enjoy her company when she hasn't pulled off her usual magic tricks. But, in this case, someone at Random House should have announced a delay in the publishing schedule.
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