The Summer Guest

The Summer Guest

Large Print - 2004
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A Featured Alternate of the Book-of-the-Month ClubWinner of the PEN/Hemingway Award for his radiant novel in stories, Mary and O'Neil, Justin Cronin has already been hailed as a writer of astonishing gifts. Now Cronin's new novel fulfills that promise - and more. With a rare combination of emotional insight, narrative power, and lyrical grace, Cronin transforms the simple story of a dying man's last wish into a rich tapestry of family love.Available only in Core 6 & 7.
Publisher: Waterville, ME : Thorndike Press, 2004
ISBN: 9780786270286
0786270284
Characteristics: 652 p. ; 23 cm

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m
mitretnuh
Oct 13, 2012

A great read, he swings from one genre to another and knocks them both out of the park,

d
doroschelch
Jul 27, 2012

Well written and well constructed story about the intertwined lives of a family and people they encounter. That various secrets are revealed on the way adds some thrill, but the action-movie ending is unnecessary, in my opinion.

j
Jennmro
Dec 19, 2010

This is one of those stories that sticks with you for days. It made me want to take a trip to Maine to go fishing in the woods. I read this book after reading Justin Cronin's newer book and loved this one just as much, although it bears no similarity to it in style or subject.

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holladayk
Aug 13, 2017

Harry: I slept but did not sleep, dreamed but did not dream, was awake every minute and also not. The final unmaking of time, all its solid, familiar order undone, so that even the rhythm of the day and night has lost its meaning and one is everywhere in one's life at once; all that night I drowned in time (during his morphine cancer time).

It's said that many marriages do not survive the loss of a child, that such grief is a room parents enter together but depart alone. I have no cause to argue the point, having sat in just that room. From that day forward we loved each other, Meredith and I, but we loved with broken hearts. And when, on a morning not long after we had buried Sam, I came into the kitchen to find Meredith standing at the window, cupping the curve o her stomach in a secret way that I alone understood I knkew we would go on.

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