The Correspondent by Virginia Evans (Literary Fiction)

This book is so beautiful, so elegant, and so full of depth I’m finding it almost impossible to write a meaningful review. Sybil Van Antwerp — a woman in her 70s — has lived a full life as a distinguished lawyer, wife, mother, and friend but over the five years of this epistolary novel, she has cause to reflect on her choices, her options, and her very real regrets. Through letters to (and from) friends, relatives, neighbors, stubborn academic deans, a precocious (and somewhat troubled) child of a colleague, a disgruntled (with reason) person from her past, and yes, the tech support person who helps her with the DNA test kit gifted her by her son — we are able to know Sybil with a depth difficult to reach even with those we are closest to.

Sybil (and Evans obviously) turns letter writing into an art form — these letters were simultaneously beautiful to read (clear, to the point, brimming with essentialness) and a piece of a puzzle as the archivist in me sought to piece it all together. I found myself in a constant state of intellectually stimulation while simultaneously moved to wonder or tears. I loved her letters to authors — Joan Didion, Larry McMurtry, and Ann Patchett to name a few — and their letters in return (I’m quite curious about how the author did that). I loved her taste in books as depicted by the exchanges with her sister-in-law — Ishiguro, Verghese, Patchett, Sue Miller, Stegner — so many of my favorites.

The writing, pacing, closure — all incredibly well-done. I wish I could remember how I even found this book — it wasn’t through my regular channels. For me, this was one of my top reads — I’m having trouble thinking of a book I liked more.