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book_nut's review
1.0
Honestly? I debated even accepting this book because I knew the subject matter -- man dealing with the kidnapping/murder of his child -- would be difficult to handle. And I was right. I think Curnutt did well in that everything was so blunt; nothing was hidden or sugar-coated. But it was a bit (!) difficult for me to stomach. I wanted to go and lock my children up and never let them outside again. I didn't want to see/know/feel anything that was being presented. It's not a happy book, or even a hopeful one, really. I was depressed reading it. But... that's all just me. It may be a good book; I am just not equipped to deal with it.
havebookswilltravel's review
5.0
This was a gritty, visceral, emotional, hard-ass sonofabitch of a book. It deals with harsh realities of grief, drug addiction, sexual deviance, obsession, depression, and a little redemption. It was a novel that made me feel deeply and relate to characters with whom I have nothing in common. It drew me in and then punched me in the gut in the final pages. Bravo, Mr. Curnutt.
Signed & inscribed by author
Signed & inscribed by author
serenaac's review
4.0
How would you react if you lost a child? What is the appropriate reaction for a parent who has lost a child? These are the questions tackled in Breathing Out the Ghost. Moving on after a child has disappeared or murdered is unimaginable, but life does move on; but how it moves on is up to the family impacted by these tragedies.
"From inside the cab of the combine, Pete watched the reels of the header bat down row after row of soybeans. As the stalks fell backwards, their stems snipped clean by a line of saw teeth on the header's bottom cutter bar, the bean pods scratched against the metal of the machinery, making the sound of a whisking broom on carpet." (page 244)
This passage signifies how both Sis and Pete Pruitt and Colin and Kimm St. Claire tackle their grief and pick up the remnants of their lives. The process of rebuilding is a series of fits and starts and restarts; it's not pretty and it's never complete. Like the stalks cut down in this passage, lives are halted and lives are skinned raw. While Sis and Pete continue with their lives as best as possible and become a source of selfless comfort for others hit by tragedy in their town, Kimm is left to her own devices when her husband Colin, who calls himself a modern Ahab of the highway, sets out on a journey to find their lost son, A.J. Both stories are separate and connected, but only begin to intersect when St. Claire finds Sis Pruitt at a local fair where she and her group, Parents of Murdered Children, share their photo quilt.
Each of these characters expresses their loss in different ways, but it is more than loss that permeates the pages of this novel. The inability to control life is most evident in St. Claire's actions, but it peeks out from behind Sis' veil of normalcy as well. When Sis works with her community members to provide food for volunteers searching for a lost boy, she loses herself in the kitchen conversation, almost fooling herself into believing she's normal. It's only when she expresses herself and her memories of her dead daughter, Patty, that she realizes normalcy is not hers.
Curnutt's masterful language and description in this novel paints a vivid Midwest landscape in which these characters languish in their grief and flourish in spite of that grief. From Michigan to Indiana, readers will picture the asphalt highway that becomes St. Claire's home, office, and escape and the Pruitt's farm that provides them with order in a town where they feel they have been branded by the murder of their daughter.
One of the best passages in this book is found on page 219, where St. Claire is recording his thoughts on cassette tape for his lost son:
"When I see myself I don't see anything organic, anything original. I steal my aphorisms from outside sources. My actions pantomime the exploits of others. I'm all imitation, a gloss of a citation. Somewhere along the line I began compiling myself from the excerpts of better men."
Many of these characters are looking for ways to fill the holes inside them left by loss. And this novel is not just about the loss of loved ones; it is a novel about losing oneself in that loss, allowing it to swallow you whole. The introduction of Sis' grandmother, Ethel, who has dementia, is a nice addition to the cast. Not only has she experienced the loss of loved ones, but also her own memories and sense of self. However, she is less tortured by that loss, as she is not bound by time lines or turning points that she would like to have a chance to do over. Regret and a lack of control over life can sometimes be more powerful than actual loss. While there are some graphic details involving sexual predator Dickie-Bird, St. Claire's mythical white whale, this novel is an insightful look at grief, family, and perseverance.
"From inside the cab of the combine, Pete watched the reels of the header bat down row after row of soybeans. As the stalks fell backwards, their stems snipped clean by a line of saw teeth on the header's bottom cutter bar, the bean pods scratched against the metal of the machinery, making the sound of a whisking broom on carpet." (page 244)
This passage signifies how both Sis and Pete Pruitt and Colin and Kimm St. Claire tackle their grief and pick up the remnants of their lives. The process of rebuilding is a series of fits and starts and restarts; it's not pretty and it's never complete. Like the stalks cut down in this passage, lives are halted and lives are skinned raw. While Sis and Pete continue with their lives as best as possible and become a source of selfless comfort for others hit by tragedy in their town, Kimm is left to her own devices when her husband Colin, who calls himself a modern Ahab of the highway, sets out on a journey to find their lost son, A.J. Both stories are separate and connected, but only begin to intersect when St. Claire finds Sis Pruitt at a local fair where she and her group, Parents of Murdered Children, share their photo quilt.
Each of these characters expresses their loss in different ways, but it is more than loss that permeates the pages of this novel. The inability to control life is most evident in St. Claire's actions, but it peeks out from behind Sis' veil of normalcy as well. When Sis works with her community members to provide food for volunteers searching for a lost boy, she loses herself in the kitchen conversation, almost fooling herself into believing she's normal. It's only when she expresses herself and her memories of her dead daughter, Patty, that she realizes normalcy is not hers.
Curnutt's masterful language and description in this novel paints a vivid Midwest landscape in which these characters languish in their grief and flourish in spite of that grief. From Michigan to Indiana, readers will picture the asphalt highway that becomes St. Claire's home, office, and escape and the Pruitt's farm that provides them with order in a town where they feel they have been branded by the murder of their daughter.
One of the best passages in this book is found on page 219, where St. Claire is recording his thoughts on cassette tape for his lost son:
"When I see myself I don't see anything organic, anything original. I steal my aphorisms from outside sources. My actions pantomime the exploits of others. I'm all imitation, a gloss of a citation. Somewhere along the line I began compiling myself from the excerpts of better men."
Many of these characters are looking for ways to fill the holes inside them left by loss. And this novel is not just about the loss of loved ones; it is a novel about losing oneself in that loss, allowing it to swallow you whole. The introduction of Sis' grandmother, Ethel, who has dementia, is a nice addition to the cast. Not only has she experienced the loss of loved ones, but also her own memories and sense of self. However, she is less tortured by that loss, as she is not bound by time lines or turning points that she would like to have a chance to do over. Regret and a lack of control over life can sometimes be more powerful than actual loss. While there are some graphic details involving sexual predator Dickie-Bird, St. Claire's mythical white whale, this novel is an insightful look at grief, family, and perseverance.
chasing_dallas's review
5.0
I found this book hard in the beginning because the language and story required greater attention than I was used to paying....but once i listened it was a really nice piece of work ...
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