Wonderful

Let me tell you something, son. When you're young, and you head out to wonderful, everything is fresh and bright as as brand-new penny, but before you get to wonderful, you're going to have to pass through all right. And when you get to all right, stop and take a good, long look, because that may be as far as you're ever going to go. -Robert Goolrick, Heading Out to Wonderful

This year it seems to me that books are coming to me right when I need them. Earlier this year I felt that way about Barbara Kingsolver's Flight Behavior and now I feel that way about Heading out to Wonderful by Robert Goolrick. Goolrick, author of A Reliable Wife, can write a hell of a story. His prose is so gentle and understated that I was surprised into tears more than once just by the loveliness of his sentences. This is disconcerting considering how emotionally and erotically charged (and fucked up) this novel is. When I finished it sobbing at 2 a.m., I sincerely regretted not reading the entire book jacket, which gave fair warning that this was a book about obsession. Not that I would take it back, but I would have appreciated the warning.

Goolrick, in talking about his novels said:

I've always felt that ordinary lives hold a special fascination. Perhaps it's because I come from a small town, where daily events- from trips to the grocery store to broken bones to adultery and divorce- were all anyone talked about. There may not have been much glamour in them, but these stories have the pith of life about them, and they are fragile and touching and infinitely moving.  

His characters, Sylvan and Harrison "Boaty" Glass, Alma, Will and Sam Haislett and "townspeople" are quintessential post-WWII Americans. Every small town has a rich jerk, a beautiful mystery woman, a happy family and Brownsburg, VA is no exception. But not every town has charismatic, mysterious Charlie Beale, with his suitcase full of money, German butcher knives and a burning desire for a home.

Thirty-nine years on the planet had beaten the poetry out of him.

How indescribably sad. I don't know what could happen in the next 4 years that could beat the poetry out of me, but I imagine serving in World War II would do it. With impeccably good manners and baseball skills, Charlie slowly wins the town over. However, most of the story revolves around his relationship with 5 year-old Sam Haislett (the narrator.) I mean, he bought a dog because the boy wanted one; a neighbor doesn't just do that. By the way, best description of beagles, ever:

...looking at the squirming mass of puppies around his feet. He loved their spots, and the colors splashed on their skins, honey and black and white, the way their tongues hung from their mouths. 

And then there is the lovely, young, married Sylvan Glass. Bought and paid for by Harrison Glass, Sylvan is little more than a girl in love with movies and Hollywood. For Charlie Beale, it is love at first sight.

He heard her name everywhere. He heard it in the rustle of the trees outside his bedroom window while he slept. He heard it in the ripples of the creeks on his land, in the swish of his tires on the asphalt. He felt is as sweetness on his skin, a freshness of the air he breathed, a blessing in the sheets wrapped around his body at night. 

And so begins Charlie's long, downward slide into obsession. Taking Sam with him, he begins secretly meeting Sylvan at her house on the hill. Sam, who keeps Charlie's secret, waits patiently in the kitchen. He knows something is happening, but he can't ask anyone and that is a whole other story separate from the affair. Everyone in the town eventually figures it out, but the interesting thing is: no one really cares. In fact, many townspeople are secretly cheering them on and after Charlie saves Sam from a drowning accident, he can do no wrong.

Well, almost.

I am not giving away the rest of the story. The plot twists and the ending are so unexpected and so harsh. I literally reread the last few pages of the book because I simply could not believe it. Heading Out to Wonderful is definitely on my top 10 list for 2012.

If your heart is broken and there is no visible wound, no sign of sickness, what else is there to do but go on, act the way you're supposed to, do what has to be done? No use to say it hurts. Everybody knows that already, everybody can see it, and they know as well that they could never in a million years touch or soothe the place where the hurt begins.