Andre Dubus III, Gone So Long

A bare foot three-year-old stands over her mother's body quietly calling, "Mommy? Mommy?" Her father gently picks her up and, rather than call for help, takes little Suzie into her bedroom and reads her a story. By the time the police arrive, the woman with the knife in her chest is long dead, and Suzie has no doubt been traumatized for life.

When I met Mr. Dubus in New York in June I asked him if his new novel, "Gone So Long," would be a little more hopeful than the devastating "House of Sand and Fog," or his excruciatingly beautiful memoir "Townie." He reassured me that he, at least, thought it would. He was wrong.

I struggled mightily with Danny, Daniel Ahearn, husband and killer of Suzie's mother Linda. I firmly believe that a felon does his time, pays his dues to society, and should re-enter the world without prejudice. Daniel, now in his sixties, is dying of prostate cancer and hopes to see his little girl once more before he slips the bonds. To facilitate a meeting, he obsesses for months over a letter of explanation, self-examination, introduction? We aren't quite sure, nor is he.

Suzie is now forty-three, an adjunct writing professor at Eckerd College in St. Petersburg, Florida. She is a blocked novelist and a woman whose life has been permanently upended by her past. Raised by her grandmother, Lois, she was hell on wheels as a kid, refusing to believe that anyone could truly love her (after all, didn't she carry half of her father's genes), and therefore, unable to open herself to love even when it's staring her in the face.

Back and forth through time and place, Dubus takes readers on a journey to a scruffy New England seaside carny, where Linda and Daniel first spotted each other and, to the surprise of many, became inseparable. Linda was a loner, happiest with her head in a book. Daniel was a loner too but for darker reasons. Insecure, nursing a ferocious anger that often surfaced with little provocation, he couldn't believe his good luck when he and Linda married and had Suzie. Jealousy and a lack of faith would be his downfall.

Any act of violence will have repercussions for years. Dubus addresses this truth in all of his work, usually on a broader, more political scale. Domestic violence can be especially difficult to read. Secrets are kept, truths repressed, grudges are nursed, and forgiveness withheld. At times we want to shake these characters, to yell, "Get over it!" But is that humanly possible?

Lois and Susan are two of the prickliest women I've ever met in fiction. At first I was annoyed but then I took a step back and realized that I'd have to walk a mile in their shoes before I could judge them. Of course, this is where Dubus works his literary magic. He forces readers to do just that. And Daniel? He is practically Shakespearean in his fatal flaws, unable to give Susan the only thing she's ever needed from him. Three words. I am sorry. He'd just been gone too long.