Zorrie – Laird Hunt

100-Word (or Less) Synopsis: Zorrie Underwood takes pride in her Midwestern work ethic and the natural wonders of her beloved Indiana, but her life has been one of isolation and longing. As the years creep up on her, she wonders if there’s still time for something more.

Expectation: An Olive Kitteridge-like main character that has the gumption and resolve to weather all of life’s seasons.

Reality: A story that ended up being more depressing than life-affirming and overall a little pointless.

Recommended For: Fans of small town novels that take place in real places.

Why I Read It: It was a finalist for the 2021 National Book Award and takes place in my home state of Indiana.

My Take:

Huh.

That was my initial reaction to finishing Laird Hunt’s exploration of his title character’s simple, yet richly drawn life.

I didn’t hate the book, but the parts I enjoyed most had more to do with the setting — Clinton County, Ind., an area that I passed through frequently while traveling home as an undergraduate — than the story itself.

Outside of showcasing how he can describe nature and the beauty in the plain of Midwestern farming communities, I don’t fully understand what Hunt was trying to accomplish here.

We meet Zorrie Underwood in her twilight, unwilling to reconcile the strong body she once had — one that could work her farmland for hours with few breaks — to the person that now must nap after tending to a garden. These moments between wake and rest are where she reflects on what her life has yielded.

She has regrets. She feels unfilled. She wants more time.

These traits initially draw you into her story, but eventually I became frustrated, because Zorrie could never get out of her own way. She longed for connection and belonging but didn’t recognize when she had it. She pined for something greater but rarely took steps to make anything happen.

This life of competing polarities is never fully explored by Hunt and that’s what ultimately makes me feel this book is a bait and switch. There’s introspection and reflection over the nearly 200-pages, but there’s never the “a-ha” moment to make you feel like she deserved more than she was given.

Personally, I found her to be at fault for much, if not all, of her isolation and didn’t finish the novel with much sympathy for the character, even though Hunt clearly tried to build it throughout.

Again, what I liked most was the Indiana setting. Specifically, one section in, I believe chapter three, where Zorrie visits the Indiana Dunes but never gets to view Lake Michigan. In this case, there were natural barriers to her achieving this goal but instead of fighting for what she wants, she gives up.

I should’ve given up on the novel at this point, too, because there was nothing else that remotely came close to the beauty and heartbreak in that chapter, even though Hunt revisits this theme several times.

And, while I also enjoyed much of his writing, some of the dialogue is borderline laughable as our characters regularly talk in an unnatural way that people not from small towns believe is accurate to small towns. Initially I had highlighted several passages to revisit, but I returned the library book before giving them another glance.

Two small Easter eggs I did enjoy, however, were Hunt’s references to the Ottawa, Ill., radium factory, a focus of Kate Moore’s nonfiction book “The Radium Girls,” and Carel Fabritius’ The Goldfinch, the piece of art central to Donna Tartt’s novel of the same name.

Unless you are a person that makes the commitment to read all literary prize finalists, this one can likely be skipped.

Rating (story): 2.5/5 stars

Rating (narration): N/A

Formats: eBook (library loan)

Dates read: November 5 - 13, 2021

Multi-tasking: N/A