Title: The Orchardist
Author: Amanda Coplin
Genre: Fiction; Historical
Goodreads Rating: 3.75/ 5 stars
My Rating: 5/5 stars
Pages: 448 (Paperback)
Publisher: Harper Perennial
Published: March 5, 2013 (Original publication: January 1, 2012)
Summary: At once intimate and epic, The Orchardist is historical fiction at its best, in the grand literary tradition of William Faulkner, Marilynne Robinson, Michael Ondaatje, Annie Proulx, and Toni Morrison. In her stunningly original and haunting debut novel, Amanda Coplin evokes a powerful sense of place, mixing tenderness and violence as she spins an engrossing tale of a solitary orchardist who provides shelter to two runaway teenage girls in the untamed American West, and the dramatic consequences of his actions.
“And that was the point of children, thought Caroline Middey: to bind us to the earth and the present, to distract us from death. A distraction dressed as a blessing: but dressed so well, and so truly, that it became a blessing.”
This debut novel by Amanda Coplin, blew me out of the water. And, I’m amazed that this book only has a 3.75/5 stars rating on Goodreads. Books like “The Orchardist” are the books that are deserving of buzz and praise. I can’t say that I’ve read a book about the human existence and loneliness, that was written this well and beautifully. I’m grateful for good friends, who recommend fantastic books.
“Somewhere along the way he had forgotten to remember her, he had forgotten to constantly call her back from the distances she was always intent on pursuing.”
Coplin addresses a few themes in “The Orchardist”, but the primary themes are the human experience, loss, and loneliness. The reader is faced with three generations that are forced to play out these themes, in varying ways. I won’t elaborate on how those themes are portrayed for each generation – for each character, because I don’t want to spoil the plot and the conflicts. But, I will say that loneliness, vulnerability, varying degrees of love, existential dread, obsession, and fear of abandonment are accurately and painfully portrayed through the beautiful, unforgiving wilderness and the unrelenting characters. The silent strength that was a slow burn for each character, linked everyone’s struggles. Through these linked struggles, lives became intertwined. And instead of clinging to one another as a means of withstanding the sharp pain of memory and the weight of their struggles, the characters pushed one another away. By refusing to be vulnerable of their own accord, the characters were unaware of how vulnerable they made themselves by hiding from the world and from love.
“And then she woke and there were no men and no horses, there was no orchard and orchardist and child, there was no fruit and no sky, no wet – smelling air; only emptiness. There was no time. There was no wilderness to lose oneself inside. She touched her face in the dark; she had her self. But then, she thought, herself was nothing. She was nothing. Why are we born? She thought. What does it mean to be born? To die?”
Existential dread, is something that everyone experiences in life – typically more than once. Most people refer to it as a sense of hopelessness or being purposeless. To not have a purpose, an identity, or a reprieve from loneliness, is the equivalent of being suffocated by a bleak existence. This existential dread is highlighted in the lives of Talmadge and Della. The more I think about it, the more I wonder which is more important: a purpose or someone who loves you and who allows you to love them? Or is our unifying purpose: to love and to be loved? But, then the question arises: is there enough love in the world to fill up a broken spirit? If there is, I believe that The Orchardist would have been given an alternate ending. While this ending broke my heart, and left me feeling a bit uneasy, the book wouldn’t have been as poignant or unforgettable if it hadn’t ended the way it did.
The writing is beautiful and the flow of the plot is in tune with the development of the characters. There were points where the book was slow, but those points were typically devoid of character growth. The surrounding wilderness is enticing but unpredictable, a wonderful symbol for the complexity of love.
I can’t wait to see what Coplin comes out with next!
“Jane had warned her: children come to displace. They live on earth after you are gone, and forget you.”
Until next time! Thank you for stopping by. Follow me here, on my blog, for more bookish content.
– A
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