Ordinary Grace by William Kent Krueger

It’s the dawn of a new century. And Frank Drum is reliving the defining summer of his life. He was 13, 1961, in New Bremen, Minnesota, about 40 miles west of Mankato on the south central prairie.

Frank is the kid in the middle. His older sister Ariel has the scars from a harelip and is bound for Julliard to study keyboard and composition. His younger brother Jake stutters and is far too insightful  for his young age.  His dad, Nathan, is a Methodist minister of nearly unimaginable, bottomless moral strength who also covers 2 other rural congregations with his mom, Ruth, who runs the choir and can’t cook worth a lick.

And there is Gus, Nathan’s war buddy who lives in the church basement, does odd jobs around town and is the surrogate uncle to Frank and Jake. The town royalty is the Brandt family. In high school, Emil Brandt and Ruth were really tight, but that went south and Ruth hooked up with hard charging first year law student Nathan Drum who, after the war, dropped man’s law for the Bible’s law. Emil suffered severe facial burns in Korea and is blind. He now lives with his deaf, autistic sister Lise in an old farmhouse. The real money is with his brother whose son Kurt dates Ariel. Then there is Doyle (a jerkoff deputy), Warren Redstone (old Sioux), and Morris Engdahl (local punk).

The summer doesn’t start well. Sweet looking Bobby Cole was lost in his own world while sitting on the railroad tracks when he was struck and killed. Not long after, Frank and Jake are rummaging around the train trestle and find a dead itinerant underneath. Over the course of the summer, we follow Jake and Frank’s adventures at Halverston’s Drug Store, the barbershop, ball field, the jail, the river’s edge, an old quarry, 4^th of July. And another death.

Make that 2 deaths. And the town starts to fall apart. Threats, innuendo, centuries old and modern prejudices and jealousy boils over as the investigation into deaths 3 and 4 unfolds. Then there is a 5^th.

Through all the turmoil, Pastor Nathan is a rock who bears the weight of his family, the town, and an unspoken tragedy carried from the war that neither Nathan nor Gus will speak about. And Jake. Too young Jake - in his silence and embarrassment of his stutter, correctly interprets events that no child his age should have to comprehend. It’s Jake, who during the town’s darkest hour utters a simple prayer that no adult can bring themselves to say that quietly begins the healing that the town so desperately needs.

This book is way off the typical themes reviewed here at MRB and was sent to me by an MRB friend at Simon and Schuster, somewhat because I had reviewed Krueger's Trickster’s Point; a more typical small town police mystery.  The themes and emotions explored by Krueger are rarely dealt with in the political thrillers or police procedurals normally reviewed here.

But make no mistake. This isn’t a book you will casually read at your leisure. It is far too engrossing to be viewed as anything other than an astonishingly deeply moving account of a defining period of time in the life of two young boys, a family, a town and the simple steps begun by the most innocent among them that begins the community's redemption. A book that you can't put down and don't want to end. Is this a modern take on some Greek or Shakespearean tragedy? I wouldn't know. 

What I do know is that Ordinary Grace isn’t a good book. Ordinary Grace is a great book. And it deserves as wide an audience as it can get. I’ve said to anyone that will listen that Boy’s Life by Robert McCammon was one of the very best coming of age books I’ve ever read. If asked now, I shall reply saying the best are Boy’s Life and Ordinary Grace.

Give it a chance. This really is that good.

East Coast Don