Friends, I take my roles and responsibilities as the captain of this book newsletter very seriously. Thus it’s with sobriety and some measure of trepidation that I share … I really liked The Covenant of Water.
I know that it feels like I’m suggesting you take the rest of your summer and well into September to read a 736-page book, which would be a dereliction of reading joy duties. But it flies by (I read it in three days, honest to god) - and it’s one of those books that satisfies both the literary and the luscious sides of reading.
Power summary: Set over 77 years in Kerala, India, three generations of a family are affected by a mysterious disease - an aversion to and danger from water - which affects the course of their life, their land, and the people around them.
Typically I have a visceral revulsion to descriptions of “sweeping novels” that follow multiple generations (we get it! They get electricity! there’s war! Tragedy, joy, modern times, the end!) But The Covenant of Water is powerful because of how personal and intimate it feels despite three-quarters of a century’s plot that sprawls all over India. There are so many interconnected plots, characters, and places, but never once did it feel clunky, rushed, or overly expository, nor did I strain to remember who anyone was, so skillfully was each character developed. Instead, it was like an old friend showed up each time they crossed through a chapter.
For my lovers of Pachinko, who are myriad, hello, I love you - you’ll see echoes of the same “legacy of a family” entwined with a “legacy of a country”. The Covenant of Water has a similar scope, sweep, and - it must be said - amount of misfortune. Because this novel mostly keeps one woman at the center, it feels more grounded than your typical “many generations” novel. It’s also very well served in staying personal and human through its generous, warm, and succulent writing that’s never show-offy.
You also might see similarities with The Love Songs of W.E.B. DuBois, first in its sheer heft which no, I will not stop talking about, have all editors been laid off or joined the circus? But also, the love and centrality of land and place blossoms off the page, as does its concern with physicality. Verghese is a physician so the novel is inextricably linked to bodies in a way that’s meticulous and clinical while also empathetic and moving. There are so many scenes and through lines of physical maladies rendered both bluntly (this is not for the extremely squeamish!) but also so deeply human, reminding us all of our frail miracles of a body. Equally, the land, the trees, the animals are all so embodied that they’re a full character, making the story of these people also a tangible story of a place.
Above all, it’s a story of perseverance, and the joy, purpose and magic that can unfold in the face of pain. We first meet the central character, Big Ammachi, in the opening chapter when she’s just a child of twelve, forced to be married to a man several decades older. It’s upsetting, and these pages filled me with dread about What Will Happen to the Child Bride. But the outcome, and all the plot outcomes, are more hopeful than they seem, and honestly? I feel like resilience and hope through books is so unstylish lately that this was a breath of fresh air. I’m not talking about the tremulous bravery in the face of dystopia, but real optimism and - thank you, Abraham Verghese, for believing that good things and good people exist even in the reality of the very hardest circumstances. More of this, literary titans!
But if this, ahem, lengthy review doesn’t convince you (talk about needing an editor, sheesh), take it from:
Oprah: “One of the best books I've read in my entire life. It's epic. It's transportive . . . It was unputdownable”
My sweetheart: “Oprah said it was unputdownable and so do I”
Reader Kat M: “Abraham Verghese is a masterful storyteller and although the book is long, the chapters are short which makes it a less intimidating (more approachable?) read. The story stays with you for days afterwards... I still feel like I am living with the characters, and watching their lives unfold.”
Kat’s right about the chapters (extremely key, very page-turny) and about the story. This will likely be on a lot of year-end lists and it’s worth it. If you’ve read it, or plan to read it, or will never read it and question my judgment as please tell me what you think!
Reminder: these gentle lambs don’t indicate quality, but emotional impact. Learn more here.
The Covenant of This Newsletter
If you hated this week’s suggestion but somehow soldiered through to the end, you’re a warrior and also probably an Enneagram 6? Reminder that there are so many other suggestions of genre and style in the archive, so get after it!
If you liked this week’s suggestion, heads up - Abraham Verghese will be talking about The Covenant of Water at the Sun Valley Writers' Conference and you can watch on free livestream! No, I do not get paid by this conference. Yes, I know I talk about it a lot. Anyway - livestream at Sat July 22 at 5:15 PM Mountain Time, whenever the hell that is.
This week’s links all go to cutie-pie indie bookstore Darvill’s Bookstore on Orcas Island, WA. It has JUST the right combination of book quantity plus personal curation plus gifty things. If it had a charming resident cat it might be heaven.
(shyly) Thank you to new subscribers, to commenters, to readers and to sharers - this is a labor of love and every week I’m grateful to you.