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meadowbat 's review for:
A Special Providence
by Richard Yates
Richard Yates understands people's pretensions and self-delusions better than any writer I've read. He gets that when people stomp out of a room, there's a small movie playing in their head in which a person stomps out of a room. He gets that, even in war, people are sometimes brave because they like the idea of being brave, not necessarily because they want to protect their country. In Revolutionary Road, this reality was profoundly depressing (but still a great read). In this novel, which alternates between a young WWII soldier and his struggling sculptor mother, delusion is the fuel of hope. And maybe hope is a coping mechanism, but isn't it the least any of us deserve?