THE ENTIRE SKY

In desolate, scenic Montana, this novel of lost souls shows them finding themselves in each other.

The ghost of Kurt Cobain pervades Wilkins’ story. A broken Seattle family and a brutal uncle have sent 16-year-old Justin on the road to nowhere, looking to get away. A sensitive soul, he idolizes Cobain, looks a lot like him, even sounds like him when he plays his guitar. He feels like a misfit, and when he learns of the Nirvana frontman’s suicide, he’s devastated. The narrative alternates between Justin’s vagabond adventures and the lonely depression of Rene, a rural Montana rancher with strong principles and a body that’s breaking down. He’s recently lost his wife to cancer after losing a son to suicide. Daughter Lianne, who’d taken time off from teaching at a community college to nurse her mother, feels compelled to stay and look after her dad. She faces her own existential crisis after her husband and sons return home to Spokane. As the novel switches between sections of present (“April, 1994”) and past (“Before”), it seems that the stories of all three include secrets they would rather not share. It also seems structurally inevitable that Justin’s wanderings will lead him to Rene’s ranch. Though some of the thematic parallels seem belabored and peripheral characters veer toward caricature, the novel is emotionally powerful and richly descriptive, rapturous in its evocation of the big skies and vast expanse and the lives that have come to seem so small and empty. As Justin becomes Rene’s helper, the boy he’s found reminds the rancher of the son he lost. “These past days on the old man’s ranch had been enormous as the every-which-way blue of these prairie skies, almost blue and big enough for Justin to forget what he had been running from. Almost.” The tale builds with inexorable tension, revealing what has happened, and what could. This is no country for sensitive boys.

It’s a novel of flight or fight, of finding family and a home and a reason to live.