Ann Napolitano's Dear Edward

If you are still suffering from covid-19 anxiety as I am then I must give you fair warning. Ann Napolitano's new novel, "Dear Edward," is an exquisite but

ferociously stressful read. It's a testament to Napolitano's craftsmanship that, even though we know from the jacket copy that twelve-year-old Edward will be the sole survivor of a catastrophic airline accident, we read on, subconsciously  hoping that the plane will remain airborne.

Napolitano introduces us to many of the 183 deceased passengers in alternating chapters that offer vivid character sketches beginning with Edward's family, his mother Jane, a script writer who will never get to pen her passion piece, his older brother Jordan who is in the throes of first love, and his dad, Bruce, a mathematician who homeschools the boys and is responsible for their deep appreciation for learning. There's Linda, a scruffy looking young woman who confirms her pregnancy while hovering over the EPT stick in the claustrophobic airplane toilet, and Florida, who wears bells sown into the hem of her skirt and believes she's inhabited multiple bodies over the centuries.

During the first few hours of the flight, Edward will cross paths with many more souls, a multi-millionaire financial guru who can't buy a cure for the cancer that's consuming him, a military veteran who won't make eye contact, and  others whose lives will become intimately familiar to Edward several years down the road in a perfect plot point that I did not see coming.

The chapters that are not set on the doomed plane are even more intense. After Edward's physical healing he moves to the New Jersey home of his mom's sister Lacey and her husband John, a couple whose struggles to have a child of their own has ended, even though the nursery hasn't yet been dismantled. It sits at the top of the stairs, a constant reminder of failure. Now they face the daunting task of shepherding Edward through years of therapy as he tries to grapple with the depth of his loss.

I wondered while reading this devastatingly beautiful book what tragedy Napolitano could have drawn from to write such authentic prose. Edward's pain is a raw, trembling thing. He dare not look at it, speak of it, for fear of losing his mind to the unending torture of carrying 183 stories on his back. His salvation comes from those who don't require that he speak, Lacey and John, Shay, a quirky classmate who lives next door, a nurturing school principal, and Mrs. Tuhane the crusty gym teacher who practices tough love.

I promise that from such despair, springs hope, that eternal offering. This novel brims with humanity, it overflows with love and generosity of spirit. I'll paraphrase the author Kevin Wilson ("Nothing to See Here") who said that this book forces you to trust the author to first break your heart and then lead you toward something wondrous and profound.