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A review by lisa_mc
A Gate at the Stairs by Lorrie Moore
4.0
“A Gate at the Stairs” starts out looking like a typical coming-of-age story, as farm girl Tassie Keltjin wavers on the cusp of adulthood a couple of years into college. The daughter of a Jewish mother and a Lutheran boutique farmer, Tassie takes a job as a nanny for a couple in the process of adopting a child. She also plunges into a passionate romance with Reynaldo, a Brazilian classmate who turns out to be something other than what he first appears.
Sarah and Edward, the eccentric couple Tassie works for, adopt Mary-Emma, a mixed-race child, and likely for the first time are confronted with the ugly realities of racism. They react by forming a discussion/support group with other parents and talking everything through on Wednesdays over wine and snacks.
Everyone in this book is in some way strained, and restrained. Reynaldo hides a large part of his life from Tassie and won't - or can't - reciprocate the depth of her feelings for him. Sarah and Edward's prickly relationship is rooted in a desperate secret of their own. Tassie's brother gives more thought than many 18-year-olds about life after high school, but doubts his choice even after he decides to join the Army. Tassie, for her part, bounces between thinking about her place in the world and aimlessly drifting, and yet the events in her life bring her to a sad cynicism: “I was realizing that all new feelings from here on in would probably be bad ones. Surprises would no longer be good.”
The plot of "A Gate at the Stairs" takes a while to get going, but it doesn’t matter because in the meantime we can leisurely revel in the magical joy of Moore’s language — like a secret or a joke, shared just between writer and reader. Moore takes images and emotions - often not beautiful ones - and beautifully describes them, incisively compares them, hauntingly dissects them.
Moore also skewers white middle-class navel-gazing on the subject of race and racism, all the platitudes and look-how-open-minded-we-are talk that go with serious discussions but woefully little experience or action. That doesn't diminish the very real exploration of race and class attitudes in the book: calm and reasoned, unafraid.
One quibble with the plot is that the story line involving Tassie's brother takes a predictable turn, and though it is written as exquisitely as the rest of the pages, one would have liked to see it turn out less obviously.
But that small flaw is only a minor detraction from this thoughtful and thought-provoking novel, the language of which is infused with a beauty so piercing readers will feel as if they should bear a scar.
Sarah and Edward, the eccentric couple Tassie works for, adopt Mary-Emma, a mixed-race child, and likely for the first time are confronted with the ugly realities of racism. They react by forming a discussion/support group with other parents and talking everything through on Wednesdays over wine and snacks.
Everyone in this book is in some way strained, and restrained. Reynaldo hides a large part of his life from Tassie and won't - or can't - reciprocate the depth of her feelings for him. Sarah and Edward's prickly relationship is rooted in a desperate secret of their own. Tassie's brother gives more thought than many 18-year-olds about life after high school, but doubts his choice even after he decides to join the Army. Tassie, for her part, bounces between thinking about her place in the world and aimlessly drifting, and yet the events in her life bring her to a sad cynicism: “I was realizing that all new feelings from here on in would probably be bad ones. Surprises would no longer be good.”
The plot of "A Gate at the Stairs" takes a while to get going, but it doesn’t matter because in the meantime we can leisurely revel in the magical joy of Moore’s language — like a secret or a joke, shared just between writer and reader. Moore takes images and emotions - often not beautiful ones - and beautifully describes them, incisively compares them, hauntingly dissects them.
Moore also skewers white middle-class navel-gazing on the subject of race and racism, all the platitudes and look-how-open-minded-we-are talk that go with serious discussions but woefully little experience or action. That doesn't diminish the very real exploration of race and class attitudes in the book: calm and reasoned, unafraid.
One quibble with the plot is that the story line involving Tassie's brother takes a predictable turn, and though it is written as exquisitely as the rest of the pages, one would have liked to see it turn out less obviously.
But that small flaw is only a minor detraction from this thoughtful and thought-provoking novel, the language of which is infused with a beauty so piercing readers will feel as if they should bear a scar.