Dear readers, “The men looked like Abraham Lincoln. The women, even her mother, like rats in kerchiefs.” Rats in kerchiefs! That description is just one of many memorable images in Kate Riley’s debut novel, “Ruth.” Our narrator (and title character) is a woman raised in a Christian commune that resembles an Amish settlement. Throughout her life, Ruth wrestles with a willful curiosity that runs counter to many of her community’s most entrenched beliefs. And in a society where property is communal, new clothes are decided by committee and unmarried women are sent to live with other families, her questioning feels like a streak of deviance. It makes for a lonely life, in many ways. It also makes for rather engaging reading. How can you not fall for a narrator who registers when “the imp of ungenerosity came, scampering up her spine”? This week, our critic Dwight Garner writes about “Ruth,” and opens his review by noting there are “inklings of greatness” throughout the book. It’s not a plot-driven story; it more closely resembles a devotional or the most private, interior thoughts of a woman trying to unscramble the puzzles of the world. See you on Friday.
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