Think you've put in your time with emotionally unavailable men? Try making a marriage in the Alaskan wilderness with Lawrence Beringer.
Homesteading in Alaska in the 1950s isn't for the faint of heart. To secure a deed to the 150 acres outside Anchorage where he's staked his claim, Lawrence must build a cabin and successfully cultivate the land—no small task given the territory's bitter winters, the dense forest to be cleared, and the bears and wolves always happy to remind him he's on their turf. Lawrence is a determined loner who dreams of a better life than his parents had back in Minnesota, and he hits the jackpot when Marie Kubala, attracted by the cut of his jaw and the prospect of those 150 acres, agrees to become his wife. They're ready for a challenge, but neither realizes the work of knowing each other and forging a marriage will prove even more daunting than taming their bit of the great outdoors. Moustakis excels at conjuring place: You can feel the wind, taste the homemade cherry wine that fuels the couple's labors, and sense the chill loneliness that is their isolated lives, even with frequent visits from Marie's sister, Sheila, and her husband, Sly, who live in town. Lawrence's struggles with intimacy are finely rendered as well, though the reason for them has a whiff of cliché: Hiding trauma and survivor's guilt from his service in the Korean War, he resists Marie's urging to open up. (He's the kind of guy for whom "Wood won’t chop itself" counts as conversation.) The birth of their daughter complicates Marie's relationship with Sheila, who longs for a child but has had no luck, and brings Marie and Lawrence closer while also testing them. A grizzly might get you on your way to the lake, but months with a colicky baby will make that walk seem well worth it. Nuanced and suffused with poetry, Moustakis' novel paints an indelible portrait of a couple finding their way in the wilderness.
An atmospheric debut about the savagery of nature, learning to trust, and the wilds that exist within all of us.