I didn't realize L'Engle could excel so much at soap operas, but Katherine (I do adore Katherine) is so cerebral, dry, and honest - with herself and others - that the takeaway is depth and care and complexity, not "hang on, this character's backstory is what?"

However: overt racial stereotyping, including vicious villainization of the antagonists. Even if you want to argue that it's typical of a privileged middle-aged white author of her time (she was 65 at publication in 1983), those instances are ugly and painful, regardless of who they're describing.

I liked this well enough. In some ways, it's a book that lacks direction. In some respects its like a mystery as there is a background mystery, but that seems jacked in, as though the book needs to have a plot. There's no real plot other than this, as the main character seems to have all the answers, she seems well composed and well crafted. The writing is lively but there is something missing in the book. You are reminded of this gilded cage, with beautiful birds flapping around -- but there's no real point to it. It's got nice writing, and is enjoyable to read... I am reminded that this is a sequel to another book in which some of the characters appear -- and perhaps that is the problem. The book flies on the strength of the characters but I don't know them from anything else. That is perhaps the problem. The second issue: this book seems to be an indictment against the church, with its title and its opening quote... but this is not really emphasized too much. The antagonist, when revealed, seems to have the typical "master agency" of having all the abilities to do things, but is also woefully lacking in character, motivation, and common sense. I like this book. I would have liked it better if it was more grounded. But alas, it is what it is. Easy reading, and a good distraction but not much else. I give it four stars on the strength of its writing.

There are too many things I like about this book to give it three stars but too many thinks wrong with it to give it five.
What I like: the overall story, revisiting Katherine and other characters from L'Engle's bibliography, the feel of the book, the ultimate message, all the pages I have dog-eared, L'Engle's writing, the people in the Cathedral Close community, the suspense, the mystery, the flashbacks of Katherine's life, the revelations from other people's pasts, as disturbing as they can be sometimes, Felix, the way they all share and help each other, no questions asked, the descriptions of NY in the summer, the thunderstorm, etc.
What's wrong: it's old, but it's more outdated than it should be because I think L'Engle just really had a hard time coming to terms with how much the world had changed, using NYC as a microcosm or cesspool, actually, for the changes, but she comes off very old fashioned and judgmental; there are some awkward moments, like when Mimi tells Katherine she loves to touch her, or when Katherine tells Emily to sleep with her (Emily is a little girl; Mimi is a straight woman) that I think L'Engle was using to make a point but that come off so very cringe in 2021; the commentaries on minorities (Haitians, for one, and my brother-in-law and niece are Haitian, so that's an issue; she even has a character complain about signs in Spanish because, when the Italians ran the neighborhood, there were no signs in Italian--this makes sense, and it's a good point, but why?; Katherine seems very prejudiced against the Chinese clergyman, making comments about his skin and features and personality; a black baby in the hospital is called a "little black button," this is weird, and it bothers me; another one that I'm going to put all on its own next); the villains, essentially, are all Hispanic--Katherine forgives (and more than forgives) a German who held her hostage during the war, but she says she can't forgive Yolande for having something to do with Emily's accident, yet she makes the comment that Yolande went through a lot and is scarred by her past. So, she's unforgiveable, but a man who sided with the Nazis is forgivable because he had a change of heart (I agree that Lukas is forgivable, btw, I just don't like the hypocrisy that favors the racial majority in the novel). So, out of all the white characters in the book, nobody could be involved in Emily's accident and the threatening phone calls. It had to be the woman from South America who was a drug addict and the people with the last name Gomez, who are, by the way, drug dealers and cooks, and their child is named Fatima but nicknamed Fatty and is in fact, chubby, and everyone comments on her weight, on the weight of a thirteen-year-old girl?? (You can't see me, but I'm smirking at the screen).
First rant over.
Finally, the sexism is appalling. Katherine should have a baby for her husband who was castrated during the war because he wants it to appease his own toxic masculinity, and he just expects her to FIND SOMEONE TO HAVE SEX WITH JUST TO GET PREGNANT SO HE CAN CLAIM HER CHILD AS HIS OWN AND NOBODY WILL KNOW IT'S NOT HIS, and she's appalled, but she does it. Twice. And L'Engle makes it okay because Katherine is genuinely attracted to both men and even loves one of them, but come on. Now, that I think about it, this is what Sarai does to Abram in Genesis, so it's not really sexism. It's just pure selfishness, which is Justin's character to me. Katherine has to defend him a few times and say that he wasn't too hard on her, but he was. He absolutely was abusive to her. He calls her young and childish and like a girl all the time, and he yells at her all the time, and pushes her to perform even after her child was killed, and he pushes her to practice the piano when she's clearly suffering from post-partum after almost dying after giving birth. L'Engle makes a huge point of showing that Katherine and Justin had a loving, healthy marriage, but it's not healthy to have this dynamic or to have two children who you all pretend are yours when you both know they're not, and Justin never asks her who the fathers are, who she had sex with, to get pregnant. Oh, and she doesn't tell either man that she's sleeping with them without protection on purpose to have their babies, to offer them to her husband as his own, so these men have no idea they have children out there (at first). It's weird, and I don't get it. She goes to great lengths to show that sex isn't everything, and people can make it work, saying that everyone is unfaithful, which I don't agree with, and saying that forgiveness is important, even to telling a young, pregnant woman to forgive and accept her husband when she finds him in bed with another man. And it works out. The theme works out. The ultimate message is there, and it's strong. But all these other things along the way just made me annoyed. Clearly.
Officially, rant over.
My feelings about this book are all over the place because the things that bother me really bother me, but the things I love, I really love. Ambivalence at its finest. This should lead to a three-star rating or maybe lower, but that's the conundrum. I want to give it four stars, but they're very hard-won stars for me. I can't recommend this book for the reasons above, so let me just drop a passage that shows why I gave this four stars:
This is Felix's sermon:
"The psalmist sings that he has never seen the good man forsaken, nor his children begging for bread. But good men and their children go hungry every day. And we come to the ancient question: If God is good, why do the wicked flourish, and the innocent suffer? They do; the wicked flourish, and children die of malnutrition, or drugs; there is continuing war and disease and untimely death, and we cry out, Why!?
"And God answers by coming to live with us, to limit himself willingly in the flesh of a human child--how can that be? The power that created the stars in their courses contained in an infant come to live with us, grow for us, die for us, and on the third day rise again from the dead for us. "And what did this incredible sacrifice accomplish? Nothing. On the surface, nothing at all. More than half of the world is starving. The planet is torn apart by wars, half of them in the name of religion. We have surely done more harm throughout Christendom in the name of Christ than we have done good. Rape and murder and crimes of violence increase... So what is it all about? How can it possibly matter?
"I don't know how it matters; I only know that it does, that when we suffer, God suffers, and he will never abandon the smallest fragment of his creation. He suffered with us during his sojourn as Jesus of Nazareth. And from the moment of Creation on, he suffers when any part of his creation suffers. Daily I add to his suffering... But he will not give up on me, not now, not after my mortal death. He will not give up on any of us, until we have become what he meant us to be. I know this. I do not know how it will be done, but I know that it will be. I know that my Redeemer lives, and that I shall see him face to face... Amen."

I had mixed feelings reading this novel. I often found the dialogue somewhat stilted, yet the characters’ voices rang true and strong. The “reveals” were at times painfully slow, yet masterful in their way. I’m not religious, yet the love in the relationships between people felt spiritual, as did the creative process. And despite the happy ending, the last words made me cry. I’m glad I persevered with reading this.

I love L'Engle so much, and this was written beautifully, but it took me forever because I just couldn't get beneath the surface of the prose. I didn't realize it was a sequel--maybe that has something to do with it.

I made a mistake thinking that my deep and lifelong love of L'Engle's brilliant children's books would carry over to her adult novels. This was awkward and melodramatic, with an oddly paced plot and confusing touches on religion, class and homosexuality. I did not enjoy this book, and that makes me sad.

Great and well written

Such an interesting deep dive into music and religion with a deeper dive into human fragility. The writing is beautiful, and the connections between the characters are quite intriguing.

I know I read this book before, but probably when I was too young to appreciate it, because I remember so little of it. I mainly remembered that it dealt, in part, with the children of grown-up Suzy from my favorite YA novel, "The Moon by Night." But I recently reread "The Small Rain" and decided to continue on with this.

Warning: Spoilers galore ahead.

Where to begin. First, Madeleine L'Engle has been my favorite author since I was a child. I devoured "Meet the Austins" and "The Moon by Night." I LOVED Vicky. When "A Ring of Endless Light" came out, I didn't think it could possibly measure up. But it did. I've read her Crosswicks Journal, her memoirs about her marriage, her books about religion: pretty much anything she's written that I could get my hands on. I visited the Chapel of St. John the Divine in Manhattan where she is interred. I did a presentation about her for my local library. My attachment to L'Engle is long and deep.

But this book annoyed me.

First, everyone in this book is gifted and talented. Brilliant pianist, painter, surgeon, dancer, bishop, confessor, conductor: everyone except one granddaughter, and I'll get to that later. I realize that these are the circles in which Katherine travels, but has she NO friends or even acquaintances who are shopkeepers, postal clerks, accountants, hairdressers? And everyone knows everything: "Is that painting a Hunter?" (Yes, now I have to reread "And Both Were Young"--the restored version.) The musical knowledge of "the young Davidsons" is staggering--and completely unrealistic.

A reviewer of another L'Engle novel mentioned that Madeline had a terrible ear for dialogue. I honestly never noticed that, until this book. Children do not talk as these children did. Not at all. The Davidson spawn annoyed the hell out of me. One of L'Engle's children said that he hated the Austin children because they were so perfect and so clearly the family his mother had wanted. But this family is worse. Only Tory acts the least bit like a real child. I assume John and Tory are named after John and Vicky Austin, or their mother, Victoria, but that is never mentioned. What is mentioned, however, is that Emily is named after Emily Gregory. Now to reread "The Arm of the Starfish"...

Throughout the novel, I was struck by how often a character's looks were mentioned. And not as a description, but a judgement. Most of them, of course, are stunningly beautiful, but if a character is fat or homely, that is pointed out repeatedly.

And was it me, or was L'Engle somewhat preoccupied with sex and homosexuality in this novel? It seemed as though she had discovered something new and wanted to show how open-minded she was about it. I know that isn't true, but I got a weird feeling from all the innuendo. What was with Yolande and the little girls? Many adults had less-than-loving childhoods, but they don't usually go around demanding that little girls kiss them on the mouth because of it. In a chapel. While married to a bishop. It was just creepy-weird.

Oh, and death. Way too much death. Death and suffering. Auschwitz. Babies and children. Castration. Amputations. Freak carnival accidents. Suicide. Death in childbirth. Beatings. Scars. Too much.

Last, I have two questions. Early on, Katherine said that her daughter, Julie, was married to Erland's nephew, Eric. Then we find out that Erland is Julie's biological father. Does that not make Julie and Eric cousins? Are we to believe that great-granddaughter Juliana, who is described as "simple," is that way because of inbreeding? Or am I reading too much into this? And who sent Katherine a used condom? As far as we know, the "villains" were two women. It seems a very odd and creepy way to harass someone. The phone calls were sexually suggestive enough. There are other ways to harass people: again, the seeming obsession with sex.

I'll probably come back and add to this after I've thought about it some more.

Yes, I forgot: Everyone wants to spill their guts to Katherine immediately after meeting her, because she is just that wonderful. And, apparently, everyone wanted to have sex with her when she was younger, too.

Oh, and 12-year-old girls (or however old Emily was) do not want to sleep with their 77-year-old piano teachers!

Wished I Liked More…

Sprawling scope that moves about across countries at various performance venues slows pace and convolutes focus. While the protagonist is admirable and moving, the story plods along.

I really wanted to like this one but it was too slow, too outdated, & unfortunately the author's biases are too apparent. Although perhaps that a good thing?
I did finish it but not because of enjoyment; wanted to quit many times. I'd give this one a pass tbh.

The story unfolds at a leisurely pace. "Leisurely" is the word I use for when something is slow but it isn't boring me. So I enjoyed reading it, but I also got to the end and thought, "what was that even about?" I didn't read The Small Rain before reading this. Maybe it would have been better if I had. But now I'm interested to read The Small Rain. So there's that. 3.5 stars

One of the best books I've ever read.

It's a good story and always keeps some suspense going. Plus there are buried in the story many life lessons, such as, "We live in a world sold on success,but love is what it's all about."