Ever since the tragedy struck, people have been finding their own ways to cope. Kevin Garvey, mayor of the small town of Mapleton, would like to forget about the whole Rapture-ish mess and go back to the life he used to know and (mostly) enjoy. That's impossible now, though. His wife, 46-year-old Laurie Garvey, has joined up with the Guilty Remnant, a group that lives communally and whose members act as silent reminders of those missing from their communities. His college dropout son has followed a polygamous cult leader to who-knows-what part of the country. As for his 17-year-old daughter, she hasn't left in a physical sense, but her good-girl personality has certainly taken a leave of absence. Kevin's not sure how to salvage what's left of his own life, let alone help his beloved hometown recover from its loss.

Just as Kevin struggles to comes to terms with what has happened, so do the other members of his family. As time wears on, each must examine his or her own faith, resolve and commitment to their chosen causes. Each must answer the question (Why, why, why?) for him/herself. Each must face his/her grief and pain in his/her own way - and each must face the consequences of his/her own actions. By doing all this, maybe, just maybe, they can move on into a future that seems less certain than ever.

Considering the great question on which the book hinges, you might think Tom Perrotta's new novel, The Leftovers, would spend some time actually solving the mystery of what happened to all the people who disappeared. Not so. Because the novel really isn't about those who vanished, it's about those who didn't. It's about the survivors - their guilt, their grief, and the ways they do or do not get on with their lives. And, really, that's all the book's about. It's rather plotless, actually, but I can honestly say I was never bored with it. The characters, flawed and confused though they may have been, kept me intrigued. Overall, though, I found The Leftovers depressing. The characters make selfish choices, which leaves the story with too little optimism or hope. All of which left me feeling disappointed and gloomy. It's a bummer because I enjoyed the book's premise, Perrotta's writing and the in-depth characterization that makes this novel so compelling. I guess I just wanted a little more from it.

(Readalikes: Um, I can't really think of anything. Can you?)

Grade: B-

If this were a movie, it would be rated: R for strong language, sexual content, violence and depictions of underrage drinking and illegal drug use

To the FTC, with love: Another library fine find

If you aren't familiar with "Mormon Mentions," a special feature here at BBB, let me explain: My name is Susan. I'm a book blogger. And I'm a Mormon. (You've all seen/heard these ads, right? I love them.) As a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (commonly known as the Mormon Church), I'm naturally concerned about how my religion is portrayed in the media. Since this is a book blog, I like to highlight passages about my church that I find in the books I read. I also like to give my opinion (surprised, aren't you?) about those passages - correcting misconceptions, explaining confusing/controversial doctrine, and laughing at the sometimes crazy Mormon culture of which I am apart. It's fun for me, but if it's not your kind of thing, feel free to skip these posts.

Okay, here we go.

Considering that Tom Perrotta's new novel, The Leftovers, talks a lot about faith and religion, I wasn't surprised to find a couple of references to the church in it. Right at the beginning of the book, are these:

"People disappeared, millions of them at the same time, all over the world. This wasn't some ancient rumor - a dead man coming back to life during the Roman Empire - or a dusty homegrown legend, Joseph Smith unearthing golden tablets in upstate New York, conversing with an angel. This was real" (2).

"Interestingly, some of the loudest voices making this argument belonged to Christians themselves, who couldn't help noticing that many of the people who'd disappeared on October 14 - Hindus and Buddhists and Muslims and Jews and atheists and animists and homosexuals and Eskimos and Mormons and Zoroastrians, whatever the heck they were - hadn't accepted Jesus Christ as their personal savior. It was a random harvest, and the one thing the Rapture couldn't be was random" (3).

Both of these selections are narrated by 46-year-old Laurie Garvey, an agnostic who's trying to make sense of the Rapture-like event that has recently snatched up millions of people from off the face of the Earth. Naturally, she's skeptical of all religion, including one that embraces the idea of an uneducated American farm boy as a prophet of God. As unlikely as it may sound, members of the LDS Church really do believe that, as a young man, Joseph Smith did, in fact, see an angel, as well as Jesus Christ and God the Father. We believe the angel gave Smith golden plates containing ancient scripture, which he then translated and published as The Book of Mormon. It sounds crazy, I know, but so does feeding 5,000 people with five loaves of bread and two fishes. I believe it, nonetheless. (To read Joseph Smith's story, in his own words, click here.)

The second passage is interesting because Mormons don't get "saved" or "born again" in the traditional sense. We're taught from birth that Jesus Christ is our Savior and Redeemer. It's something that's acknowledged and accepted right from the start. Getting baptized is a way to make our commitment to Him public, but even LDS children who are under 8 (the age at which kids born into the LDS Church are baptized) know who Jesus is and what He's done for them. It's just part of being Mormon. For a much more eloquent explanation, click here.

Oh, and in case you were wondering, Dictionary.com defines Zoroastrianism as "an Iranian religion, founded c600 b.c. by Zoroaster, the principal beliefs of which are in the existence of a supreme deity, Ahura Mazda, and in a cosmic struggle between a spirit of good, Spenta Mainyu, and a spirit of evil, Angra Mainyu." Who knew?

Raine O'Rourke knows her mother used to be a bit of a wild child. She's heard the stories about her young, hippie Mama standing barefoot on European street corners playing her guitar. But that was a long time ago. Now, Molly O'Rourke's just a regular mom. Which is why her sudden decision to spend the summer working as a housekeeper at a remote artist's colony doesn't make any sense. As much as Raine wants to stay in Milwaukie with her beloved Grandpa Mac, her mother isn't giving her a choice. They'll both be spending the summer at Sparrow Road.

Spooked by the estate's creepy main house, irritated by the colony's ridiculous no-talking rules and lonesome for everything she left behind, Raine's pretty sure she's going to hate Sparrow Road. But as she gets to know the artists who live there, she starts to feel more at home. And when she hears an elderly poet talking about the children who live on the estate, Raine's intrigued. She hasn't seen anyone under 30 at Sparrow Road. The mystery, which seems to revolve around the estate's secret history, intrigues her.

Raine's even more puzzled by her mother's odd behavior. Molly keeps Raine sequestered at Sparrow Road, refusing to let her explore the nearby town or go to any of the community's summertime activities. It makes no sense. Until Molly finally confesses why she really brought rain to the artist's colony. Suddenly, Raine's up to her elbows in old secrets. Can she find all the answers she's searching for? More importantly, what will she do with these revelations, especially the one that could change her life forever?

Sparrow Road by Sheila O'Connor is one of those like-the-premise-not-so-much-the-execution type of books. While I thought the premise of this one sounded interesting, I didn't feel a lot of connection to the characters, the setting or even really the plot. I know a lot of people love Sparrow Road, but I just wasn't feeling it. It's nothing I can put my finger on, though, more a kind of ambivalence. I didn't love it, didn't hate it. For me, it was just okay.

(Readalikes: Nothing's coming to mind. Any ideas?)

Grade: C

If this were a movie, it would be rated: PG for mature themes

To the FTC, with love: Another library fine find