The Muir House {Book Review}

Mary DeMuth’s most recent novel The Muir House begins with a tragedy in the midst of a mystery in a fashion sure to drop any reader right into Will Muir’s life. We enter Willa’s story in Seattle with a denied marriage proposal and a devastating house fire, then follow her to her childhood home in Rockwall, Texas where she is seeking answers to long-held questions about a missing year of her life.

Once again DeMuth has crafted a stirring narrative lived out by complex characters. True to life, even the antagonists have redeeming moments and the protagonist makes emotional mistakes.  With elegant and detailed prose we walk with Willa as she searches for the truth about her childhood and proper southern family. Phrases like these help the reader to empathize with Willa, “The weight of the memory covered her like a wet afghan, and although the sun winked warmth on her, she shivered on the earth.”

The Muir House is hefty and rich enough to meet a tough critic’s literary needs, yet makes a great read for the summer. If you’re new to Mary DeMuth, visit her lovely website and read my review of her memoir Thin Places.

A Book Review

Thin Places
Mary DeMuth
Zondervan $14.99


Mary DeMuth’s memoir Thin Places, released February 1, will break your heart then mend it better than it was before. As gritty and painful as it is inspiring, Thin Places is the story of DeMuth’s traumatic childhood and rich spiritual journey into adulthood. The details of her abuse, neglect and eventual redemption seem to unravel naturally, yet this is the work of a truly gifted storyteller.

DeMuth gives order to her helter-skelter upbringing by anchoring scenes in the moments when she came closest to God: thin places. According to the author, thin places are “snatches of time, moments really, when we sense God intersecting our world in tangible, unmistakable ways.” A little girl alone in a world of divorced and drug-addicted parents, a careless babysitter, and sexually abusive neighborhood boys, Mary DeMuth triumphs because of the still small voice she encountered in even the darkest moments.

True to her storytelling nature, DeMuth builds an artful and detailed narrative, and delivers the kind of startling honesty many of us aren’t brave enough to offer ourselves. The Christian answer to essayist Annie Dillard, DeMuth’s recollection of her past is grounded yet ethereal, orderly yet poetic.

Unlike most essayists, DeMuth’s memoir is absent of self-pity or narcissism. In a self-indicting tone, the author continually asks, “Does the world revolve around me, or do I think it should? Am I a person of sacrifice or selfishness?” (104). This practice serves her writing well by creating a humble voice and welcome space for her reader.

Contrary to self-indulgence, the author labors through her own pain with the aim of encouraging others who feel alone. In the press leading to the release of Thin Places, DeMuth made her intentions for this cathartic work clear. “It’s my sincere hope that my story will stay with readers, not because of its sordidness, but because the Light of Jesus has shined so brightly upon it.”

About her memoir, DeMuth said, “I’ve sensed God’s hands on this book from the moment I started writing it.” Clearly He carried her to this place of understanding. Thin Places is a shining example of God’s unfathomable, illogical, and unfailing love, and how He communicates to the least of these through the most unlikely circumstances.