GILEAD
BY MARILYNNE ROBINSON | PUBLICATION: OCTOBER 2005PICADOR | GENRE: LITERARY FICTION
RATING: ★★★★
"A quiet powerhouse: lyrical, meditative, and deeply spiritual."
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In 1956, toward the end of Reverend John Ames's life, he begins a letter to his young son, an account of himself and his forebears. Ames is the son of an Iowan preacher and the grandson of a minister who, as a young man in Maine, saw a vision of Christ bound in chains and came west to Kansas to fight for abolition: He "preached men into the Civil War," then, at age fifty, became a chaplain in the Union Army, losing his right eye in battle. Reverend Ames writes to his son about the tension between his father--an ardent pacifist--and his grandfather, whose pistol and bloody shirts, concealed in an army blanket, may be relics from the fight between the abolitionists and those settlers who wanted to vote Kansas into the union as a slave state. And he tells a story of the sacred bonds between fathers and sons, which are tested in his tender and strained relationship with his namesake, John Ames Boughton, his best friend's wayward son.
This is also the tale of another remarkable vision--not a corporeal vision of God but the vision of life as a wondrously strange creation. It tells how wisdom was forged in Ames's soul during his solitary life, and how history lives through generations, pervasively present even when betrayed and forgotten.
This is also the tale of another remarkable vision--not a corporeal vision of God but the vision of life as a wondrously strange creation. It tells how wisdom was forged in Ames's soul during his solitary life, and how history lives through generations, pervasively present even when betrayed and forgotten.
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The Quiet Grace of Gilead
Gilead by Marilynne Robinson is a quiet, luminous meditation on faith, memory, and the human heart. Told through a letter from an aging minister to his young son, it explores generational belief, personal sorrow, and the grace of forgiveness.
One of the central themes of Gilead is the complexity of belief—and unbelief. The grandfather, a fiery abolitionist, acted with unwavering conviction, believing his visions were divine. After the Civil War, he felt adrift, his courage unspent and his purpose lost.
In contrast, the father was a pacifist, often clashing with the grandfather’s militant faith. His own beliefs were quieter, more uncertain. The son—our narrator—embraced his calling with conviction, recounting personal experiences that affirmed his faith and shaped his ministry. The narrator’s brother Edward, abandoned religion altogether and embracing atheism. Their father had once hoped Edward would follow in his footsteps, but instead, he found himself spiritually adrift after living with Edward on the Gulf Coast. A later visit between father and son ended in painful confrontation, underscoring the emotional toll of diverging beliefs.
Another profound theme is the exploration of the human heart. Beneath the minister’s robe is a man who has known deep sorrow. Ames lost his first wife and daughter early in life, plunging him into years of loneliness. His late-in-life marriage and the birth of his son brought light back into his world—a quiet joy he tries to capture in words, though he admits its depth defies description.
For me, the humanity of Rev. Ames shines brightest in his relationship with Jack Boughton, his godson and namesake. Jack, the prodigal son, had long been the object of Ames’s judgment. Through prayer, reflection, and difficult encounters, Ames learns to forgive and embrace Jack. In blessing him, Ames finds his own redemption—and peace.
Gilead is such a quiet powerhouse: lyrical, meditative, and deeply spiritual. It offers a profound glimpse into the soul of a dying man shaped by faith, love, and loss. Rev. John Ames is a man of God, yes—but more importantly, he is a man. Marilynne Robinson’s prose is luminous in its simplicity, revealing the human spirit in its most vulnerable form. Her words invite readers to pause, reflect, and appreciate the present moment—and perhaps to wonder what we’ve been missing.
This novel made me a Marilynne Robinson fan. Don’t wait too long to become one yourself.
Gilead by Marilynne Robinson is a quiet, luminous meditation on faith, memory, and the human heart. Told through a letter from an aging minister to his young son, it explores generational belief, personal sorrow, and the grace of forgiveness.
One of the central themes of Gilead is the complexity of belief—and unbelief. The grandfather, a fiery abolitionist, acted with unwavering conviction, believing his visions were divine. After the Civil War, he felt adrift, his courage unspent and his purpose lost.
In contrast, the father was a pacifist, often clashing with the grandfather’s militant faith. His own beliefs were quieter, more uncertain. The son—our narrator—embraced his calling with conviction, recounting personal experiences that affirmed his faith and shaped his ministry. The narrator’s brother Edward, abandoned religion altogether and embracing atheism. Their father had once hoped Edward would follow in his footsteps, but instead, he found himself spiritually adrift after living with Edward on the Gulf Coast. A later visit between father and son ended in painful confrontation, underscoring the emotional toll of diverging beliefs.
Another profound theme is the exploration of the human heart. Beneath the minister’s robe is a man who has known deep sorrow. Ames lost his first wife and daughter early in life, plunging him into years of loneliness. His late-in-life marriage and the birth of his son brought light back into his world—a quiet joy he tries to capture in words, though he admits its depth defies description.
For me, the humanity of Rev. Ames shines brightest in his relationship with Jack Boughton, his godson and namesake. Jack, the prodigal son, had long been the object of Ames’s judgment. Through prayer, reflection, and difficult encounters, Ames learns to forgive and embrace Jack. In blessing him, Ames finds his own redemption—and peace.
Gilead is such a quiet powerhouse: lyrical, meditative, and deeply spiritual. It offers a profound glimpse into the soul of a dying man shaped by faith, love, and loss. Rev. John Ames is a man of God, yes—but more importantly, he is a man. Marilynne Robinson’s prose is luminous in its simplicity, revealing the human spirit in its most vulnerable form. Her words invite readers to pause, reflect, and appreciate the present moment—and perhaps to wonder what we’ve been missing.
This novel made me a Marilynne Robinson fan. Don’t wait too long to become one yourself.
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About the Author:
Marilynne Robinson is the author of Gilead, winner of the 2005 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction and the National Book Critics Circle Award; Home (2008), winner of the Orange Prize and the Los Angeles Times Book Prize; Lila (2014), winner of the National Book Critics Circle Award; and Jack (2020), a New York Times bestseller. Her first novel, Housekeeping (1980), won the PEN/Hemingway Award. Robinson’s nonfiction books include The Givenness of Things (2015), When I Was a Child I Read Books (2012), Absence of Mind (2010), The Death of Adam (1998), and Mother Country (1989). She is the recipient of a 2012 National Humanities Medal, awarded by President Barack Obama, for “her grace and intelligence in writing.” Robinson lives in California.
Photo Credit: Alec Soth / Magnum Photos
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| F2F Discussion at Secret Garden Resort, Las Piñas City |
Again my warmest love and appreciation to all TFG members who joined the online and face to face discussion, including those who read and finished the book even though they were not able to join us. ♥
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