Open Sing Them Home to the flyleaf and -- before you've read even a word of Stephanie Kallos's sweet and funny second novel -- you find a clue. It's dedicated to her father and mother, who died within a year of each other while the book was being written, and to a friend and mentor who took his life not five months later. How do you face such loss? Exactly the answer Kallos appears to be after.
Hope Jones was the doctor's wife in a small prairie town in Nebraska in 1978 when she vanished in a monster tornado. Her body was never found. To her three children, Larken, Gaelan, and Bonnie, their mother didn't die so much as she "went up": "For most of their lives, they have been waiting for their mother to come down. To do otherwise, they believe, would be a betrayal."
Other things caught up in that tornado came down, including the family's grand piano, a sled, and, miraculously, Bonnie herself. Then a toddler, she was found where the tornado's capricious winds dropped her, high above the ground in an uprooted tree. Life went on, but the loss of their mother, and of their mother's body, defined the Jones children. Adults when the story starts in 2003, they're still struggling with Hope's mystical, almost mythical demise.
Larken, an art history professor at a university in nearby Lincoln, is deliberately overweight -- fat, really -- and lives a solitary life. Gaelen has parlayed his buff good looks into a job as a TV weatherman. Bonnie, who still lives in Emlyn Springs, has become the town eccentric. She roves the roads on a bicycle, collecting bits of trash -- she calls them artifacts -- that she carefully assembles in albums in hope of finding something of her mother's. In the manner of modern families, the siblings live apart until a birthday, a holiday, or a family tragedy brings them together.
In Sing Them Home, it's the latter. Their father, Llwellyn, goes golfing in a thunderstorm and, club raised to take a swing, is electrocuted. Larken and Gaelen head home for the funeral. In that ceremony, a three-day singing ritual, and in the regrouping that follows, Kallos's book is born.
Kallos was a theater person, an actor and teacher, before she began to write. She started with short stories good enough to get published in literary journals, then made the leap -- if that's what you can call the eight years it took to write it -- to Broken for You, her first novel. In that 2004 book, she tells the tale of a reclusive woman hidden away in her Seattle mansion, where she tends and talks to the vast and valuable china collection left to her by her father. Add in a deadly brain tumor, a want ad for a roommate, and a spunky and equally reclusive woman in her 30s, and you'd still have trouble predicting just how and where this whimsical novel winds up. Now, in the dense tapestry of Sing Them Home, Kallos has landed on her feet again, dodging the dreaded sophomore jinx of the second novel. She's still poking at the open wounds of abandonment, loss, and grief, and yes, there's another strong dose of magic realism (the dead can speak, a pair of lovers conjures a snowstorm), but now there's also heft and an edge of darkness.
The characters aren't particularly likable. Bonnie's a crank and, much of the time, a trial. Larken's an intellectual snob and a secretive binge eater. There's a moment early on with Larken and a peanut butter cup, which she slips into her mouth and dismantles with her tongue, that is nothing short of sexual. The fact that this bit of release happens during a meeting with a student, who is unaware, gives the scene a real creepiness. Gaelen, outwardly the most normal of the three siblings, pursues a prolific and loveless love life that would make Hugh Hefner proud.
But Kallos, who loves her people, rides to the rescue, her language making a case for their foibles, persuading us -- please -- to give them a chance. Here's Gaelen, unable to respond as the girl he likes undresses for him, her garments falling like snow:
There is a weightless quality to falling snow, even in its multiple forms, the various ways it can come down. Many people find it entrancing; to them snowfall is magical. Such people do not associate meteorological events with the disappearance of a parent, and so perhaps understandably, given his family history, Gaelen does not prefer snow in this down-falling, vulnerable state…
Hope's children spend their adult lives in pursuit of answers about their mother and her vanishing act, but it's the readers who learn all about her. A series of diary entries, beginning with Hope as a college girl in love with Llwellyn Jones and continuing through her courtship and marriage, reveal a crippling series of secrets and betrayals. And while the chapters about the children and the small-town life of Emlyn Springs take place in the near-present day, the writing in those sections, lyrical as it is, filled with bits of magic and whimsy, feels old-fashioned. Hope's diary entries, by contrast, are bracing and vivid, the most modern and compelling voice in the book.
Unlike many short story writers who take a shot at the long form, Kallos writes uncommonly good novels. There's the nuance and close focus of the short story, where a plot hinges on a single detail, but there's also the sweep and wide horizon of a saga. Kallos may be a bit too fond of the happy ending, less god of her universe than fairy godmother, but in this rocky moment in our uncertain world, it's hard to find fault with that. --Veronique de Turenne
Veronique de Turenne is a Los Angeles–based journalist, essayist, and playwright. Her literary criticism appears on NPR and in major American newspapers. One of the highlights of her career was interviewing Vin Scully in his broadcast booth at Dodger Stadium, then receiving a handwritten thank-you note from him a few days later.
Publishers Weekly
Kallos's second novel tells the story of the three Jones children, Larken, Gaelen and Bonnie, as they try to come to terms with their mother's mysterious death after she is swallowed up by a tornado that touched down in their small town in Nebraska. The children must live their life under the microscope of the townspeople's collective interest while trying to create their own life and legacy and distance themselves from their mother's death. Tavia Gilbert brings additional vibrancy to Kallos's original and affecting novel. Gilbert manages to capture the underlying melancholy of the novel while creating complex and believable characters. With a compelling stage presence, she brings this story to life with an inspired reading that demonstrates her performance ability and creative sensibility. A Grove/Atlantic hardcover (Reviews, Sept. 1). (Jan.)
Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.
Library Journal
The Jones family would seem to have no luck. Aneira Hope Jones, already terminally ill, was swept away by a tornado in 1978. Now her husband has been felled by lightning, and his longtime mistress, Viney-best friend to his wife and virtually the stepmother of his three children-must rally alientated, overweight art scholar Larken; sex-obsessed Gaelen, a famed weatherman mostly because of his family history; and their slightly nutty little sister, Bonnie. The Jones siblings have had far from perfect lives. But they're also rooted in the warm and sensible little town of Emlyn, NE, proud of its Welsh heritage, and this fresh, invigorating novel fingers carefully through their pain. Kallos (Broken for You) doesn't rip her characters apart, just tenderly shows us their failings as they stumble, in a realistic and satisfying manner, toward better selves. Highly recommended. [See Prepub Alert, LJ8/08.]
—Barbara Hoffert
From the Publisher
“Sing Them Home constantly surprises, changing voices, viewpoints, and tempos, mixing humor and pathos, and introducing a big cast of vividly portrayed characters, major and minor. Readers who admired Kallos’s first novel, Broken for You, will likely embrace Sing Them Home, and it will embrace them in return. It’s that sort of book.”—Diane White, Boston Globe
“[Sing Them Home] is a book written for cold winter nights by the fire. . . . Kallos excels at teasing out the emotional damage wrought by [the Jones siblings’] absent mother and remote father. . . . [She] is working in a vast landscape here, both emotional and physical [and] she handles it all with grace, giving each character and plotline a satisfying finish, like chords resolving themselves.”—Shawna Seed, The Dallas Morning News
"With empathy and wit, Kallos weaves together the stories of the living and the dead, creating a world in which love trumps loss and faith can summon redemption. The result is a magical novel that even cynics will close with a smile."—Michelle Green, People (3½ out of 4 stars)
“[Sing Them Home] is a welcome reminder that good contemporary writing can still move slowly. . . . The reader is left with a feeling that the author, the story and the characters have somehow been uncommonly generous in their presentation. . . . Death, loss and remembering are integral parts of the story, and the language of the book can be, at times, wonderfully elegiac and ruminative. . . . [Kallos’s] own genuine emotion infuses and drives the story.”—Holly Silva, St. Louis Dispatch
“Fans of Ann Patchett and Haven Kimmel should dive onto the sofa one wintry weekend with Stephanie Kallos’s wonderfully transportive second novel, Sing Them Home. . . . [A] keenly empathetic description of life in . . . . Emlyn Springs, one of those all-too-rare small towns in literature, rich in personality but mercifully free of broad, condescending cliché. . . . As the novel floats back and forth from past to present, Kallos patiently reveals the hurt and longing that’s pounding beneath the surface . . . [and] the ending may leave you feeling so wistful for these strange, sad people that you find yourself fantasizing about a trip to Nebraska.”—Karen Valby, Entertainment Weekly (A-)
“Not since the Wizard of Oz has a tornado been used to such potent literary effect. . . . Dorothy may have thought that there’s no place like home, but what happens when there’s no house left at the old address, and no real parent figure to go home to? The Jones siblings take a further step down the road to enlightenment: They learn that home is where the heart is. . . . Kallos performs ample wizardry in blending both tears and quirky humor in this tale of lost souls.”—Barbara Lloyd McMichael, Seattle Times
“A compelling portrait of three adult siblings struggling to come to terms with their father’s sudden death. . . . Kallos writes with sympathetic insight into the quirks of each of the survivors, bringing her readers a family saga tinged with mysticism, humor and pathos, and peopled with characters not soon forgotten.”—Deborah Donovan, Bookpage
“Sing Them Home ushers us into small-town life, with all its distinctive cultural nuances, eccentric personalities, and homegrown secrets. With the same beauty and lyricism of her first novel, Broken for You, Kallos stitches together a colorful patchwork of memories and images, creating a rich narrative fabric that develops and changes as it passes through each character’s hands.”—Heather Paulson, Booklist
“[A] fresh, invigorating novel . . . Kallos tenderly shows us [her characters’] failings as they stumble, in a realistic and satisfying manner, toward better selves. Highly recommended.”—Library Journal (starred review)
“Kallos’s enthralling second novel takes the reader by storm. . . . [Sing Them Home] will find a welcome audience in anyone who has experienced grief, struggled with family ties or, most importantly, appreciates blossoming talent.”—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
“Brilliant . . . A richly textured, deeply satisfying, and enduring read—a whirlwind of aching sadness, secret histories, sex that’s by turns empty and angry and sloppy and transformative, moments of great sweetness and joy that are never saccharine, and ultimately, resolution and redemption that are well-earned and in no way false or forced. Before Sing Them Home, Kallos was already, arguably, the best first-novelist of the Aughts; now it’s abundantly clear that she’s becoming quite a bit more than that.”—Stephan Nathans-Kelly, First Look Books
