Go as a River by Shelley Read

Every now and then, I read a book that leaves me speechless. A book that is so moving, so eloquent, so layered, that I do not feel called to review it — but to simply admire its existence. Much as I imagine I would if I were the type of person to frequent art galleries and marvel at masterpieces. You know, like they do in the movies? There’s always those scenes, where some artsy youngster — usually with unruly hair, practical boots, and an oversized, colourful knit jumper — sits on a bench and stares at a painting, spine ramrod straight and stoic, eyes aglow with wonder and respect.

^ I suppose that’s my review then, of Go as a River by Shelley Read. And below are the passages that stopped my reading in its tracks, demanding I save them for future reference — and share them with you.

“I’d walk the trail through the sage and wildflowers and willows, then remove my shoes and roll my trousers and wade into cold, rushing waters to stand in the exact place where the two rivers swam together to form one. The roar of their merging drowned out every other sound except their ancient conversation. I’d grip my toes onto the slick stones below and balance against the current, close my eyes, and listen. I can’t say exactly what those translucent waters told me. I only know that everything they said was true.”

“But I only knew of it as history or some faraway news story. But the actuality of it is so appalling.”

“Light slants differently through an autumn window than at any other time of year. This was true in my farmhouse in Iola and equally true in my new home. Regardless of the outside temperature or the color of the leaves, fall always begins with the first touch of direct sunlight on a southern windowsill.”

“Eventually, I gave up the notebooks and novels I pointlessly carried in the diaper bag and stopped longing for the life I might have had. Instead, I surrendered to motherhood. The choice was motherhood or madness.”

“But if these mountains had taught me anything, it’s that the land endures, riding out human folly when it must, reclaiming itself when it is able, and moving on.”