In the run-up to the 2016 election, Owen Callahan, an aspiring writer, moves back to Kentucky to live with his Trump-supporting uncle and grandfather. Eager to clean up his act after wasting time and potential in his early twenties, he takes a job as a groundskeeper at a small local college, in exchange for which he is permitted to take a writing course.
Here he meets Alma Hazdic, a writer in residence who seems to have everything Owen lacks--a prestigious position, an Ivy League education, success as a writer. They begin a secret relationship, and as they grow closer, Alma--who comes from a liberal family of Bosnian immigrants--struggles to understand Owen's fraught relationship with family and home.
Exquisitely written; expertly crafted; dazzling in its precision, restraint, and depth of feeling, Groundskeeping is a novel of haunting power and grace from a prodigiously gifted writer.
I listened to Lee Cole’s “Groundskeeping” narrated by Michael Crouch. Crouch did a fine job voicing the pensive protagonist, Owen Callahan.
The story takes place in rural Kentucky, right before the 2016 presidential election. Owen is in his early 20’s and aspires to be a writer. We learn early that this is one of those “coming-of-age” stories in which the protagonist is trying to become a productive adult; Owen has sowed his oats and wants to stop horsing around. His parents are evangelical Christians, which is fodder for observations. For example, Owen notes that his stepmother, of “Evangelical Hair” and father have little in common with Owen. I’ve never seen that description before, but I had a clear vision.
Owen attains a job as a groundskeeper at a small local college. He will stay with his Trump supporting grandfather in his basement. His “pop” is sweet; his uncle Cort, though, also a Trump supporter, has some issues and still lives with his father at the age of 52. Cort is not a fan of Owen’s.
Owen can take courses free as a groundskeeper at Ashby College. He enrolls in a creative writing workshop. He meets the writer-in-residence, Alma Hadzic, who is a Bosniak Muslim and has immigrated from Serbia. She is Princeton educated, has published a novel, lived in an affluent suburb, and is younger than Owen. Owen explaining Kentucky and politics to Alma is interesting. Owen’s own ruminations are both funny and thought-provoking.
Alma and Owen enter into a relationship that is fraught with complexities given their differing backgrounds. This is a snapshot of our culture leading up to the 2016 election. It’s a story of young love and launching lives. I’ve read comparisons to Sally Rooney’s type of literature, and I agree. It’s funnier than Rooney, but angsty nonetheless! Growing up is hard to do!
Groundskeeping is a novel about young people finding their way in today's America. Set during 2016, the year that Donald Trump was elected, it shows the deep divisions that run through the United States and the effects of education, poverty, religion and class on peoples' lives.
Owen Callahan grew up in a hardscrabble small town in Kentucky. Drifting after college, working different jobs, drinking and trying drugs, he eventually returned to Kentucky to live in his grandfather's basement and found work as a groundskeeper at a private college with the side benefit of free enrolment in a writing course.
It was at a grad student party that Owen meets Alma, a young writer from a very different world. The daughter of immigrant Muslim Bosnian doctors in DC, ivy league educated and with a book of short stories already published, her immigrant parents hard work ensured that she has never known hardship or struggle. Despite the clash of cultures and backgrounds, they nevertheless fall in love. At first their relationship flourishes in the environment of the college, but when they meet each other’s parents, their differences are thrown into a spotlight that highlights the deep divisions in their backgrounds and experiences.
This thoughtful, finely written debut novel is so much more than a love story. With its assured sense of time and place it is a glimpse into the Trump era, a time of deeply divided political views and an even deeper divide between the wealthy and the poor. Although the lack of chapters and speech marks will annoy many readers, it made the book feel more like a stream of consciousness as Owen describes his inner thoughts and conversations with Alma, work mates, fellow students and family members.
With thanks to Knopf Doubleday and Netgalley for a copy to read
Rounded down from 4.5, and one of my favorite novels of the year so far. I'm delighted that I picked this up on Sarah's recommendation. This is an extremely accomplished first novel, and an enjoyable addition to the long shelf of American novels about young American novelists, and is suffused with the same level of charm and human warmth as Lily King's Writers and Lovers.
Cole succeeds admirably in creating a lived-in sense of place, from the hipster bars of gentrified Louisville to the dying post-industrial towns of the Ohio Valley. His sentimental attachment to his native Kentucky never overpowers his deft exploration of the fracturing of America along class, educational, racial, and cultural lines before and after the 2016 election. He never looks down on his characters, some of whom happen to be evangelical Christian Trump voters, and avoids the traps of sanctimony and disdain that would befall overeducated liberal Blue State readers of literary fiction.
Owen Callahan is a close observer of a year in his semi-adult life as a 28-year-old millennial, as he stumbles towards a possible vocation as a writer and falls in love with another, more successful writer. And perhaps this novel is the cleaned-up version of the autofictional draft that he's writing within the novel, which makes this much more than the standard narrative of a callow youth groping towards self-knowledge. Since graduating college with an English degree, Owen's been living hand-to-mouth in a series of minimum-wage jobs, working through some unresolved chemical dependencies, and has spent a couple of months living out of his car.
Returning home to Kentucky to work on the groundskeeping crew of an elite college, Owen trims trees by day and takes writing classes in the English department by night. Perpetually broke and living rent-free in his elderly grandfather's basement, he has a strained relationship with his disappointed working-class parents, who are divorced and remarried. He has the compulsive need to write and a lifelong love of reading, but not the discipline or focus, or the ability to get out of his own way.
But this novel is really a millennial love story about two people who aren't yet ready for true intimacy or commitment. In the novel's first scene, Owen meets Alma Hadzic, a visiting writer-in-residence, at a grad student party. She's upper-middle-class, Princeton-educated, and grew up in an upscale DC suburb with successful immigrant parents. And she's already enjoying the beginning of a stellar career , having already published a well-received collection of short stories based on her Bosnian Muslim family's escape from Sarajevo (one of the novel's high points is Owen's retelling of one of Alma's short stories), with a volume of poetry on the way. But Owen (or Cole writing as Owen) doesn't make this poor boy's semi-obscure rich-girl object of desire cohere as an entirely credible character, with motives as believable as his own.
This isn't a plot-driven novel, and it gently meanders through a school year, but Cole provides it with a strong underlying sense of structure, with beautifully resolved subplots. And the cast of supporting characters (especially the male ones) are vividly and sympathetically rendered. The prose is smooth, immersive, and finely-observed throughout. Very highly recommended.
Thanks to Netgalley and Knopf Doubleday for giving me an electronic ARC of this in exchange for an honest, unbiased review.
Groundskeeping centers on Owen Callahan, an aspiring writer who moves back to Kentucky to live with his Trump-supporting uncle and grandfather while he tries to cobble together a career. I liked this novel in that the writing felt smooth and easy to read. Lee Cole includes some relevant and interesting themes related to class, social disenfranchisement, and how one accident can negatively alter the course of someone’s life.
At the same time, I felt like Groundskeeping didn’t really say much. “Meandering” captures this novel’s vibe, to me. For example, I feel like Owen, our main character, seems vaguely aware of his white male privilege and his general self-centeredness though he pretty much remains at the same level of critical consciousness and self-centeredness by the end of the novel? Which maybe is how some people are though, I’m not sure what that accomplishes in fiction? I also found his love interest, Alma, daughter of immigrants from Bosnia, rather underdeveloped. It seemed like she functioned as Owen’s love interest solely rather than as someone who has her own desires and ideals, even though Cole did reference her writing career. I found their relationship a little stiff, their communication continually ineffective, and their projection onto one another tiresome as neither of them really addressed their core issues. I also wondered why Alma wanted to date Owen in the first place.
Overall an okay read though not one I’d jump to recommend unless you want to specifically read about a white guy who lives in Kentucky and wants to not live in Kentucky anymore, kind of.
I am a child of the suburbs. My husband’s career took us into the inner city and middling-sized towns and small towns and resort towns. Once, I told a teenager at a resort town that it was a beautiful place to grow up. He scowled. I discovered his graduating class was 23 students. Ouch. Another small town had an annual ‘pumpkin roll;’ the road on the hill into downtown was lined with bales of hay, and people rolled their pumpkins down the hill.
So, when the main character in Groundskeeping told about the annual Halloween event of soaking a bale of hay in kerosene, lighting it on fire, and rolling it down the hill into downtown, I perfectly understood his hometown.
“I’ve always had the same predicament. When I’m home, in Kentucky, all I want is to leave. When I’m away, I’m homesick for a place that never was.” These were Owen’s first words to Alma when they met at a party. She tells him she is from “a country that no longer exists,” her Muslin family refugees from Bosnia.
Alma is a visiting writer on fellowship at Ashby College. She went to an ivy league school. Her family is well off. After college, Own had faltered, became addicted to opioids, and recovered, and now is working at the college so he could take one free writing class a semester. Owen is a groundskeeper living with his elderly grandfather, who watches John Wayne movies, and his disabled, disgruntled, Trumpite uncle. His parents are divorced, his mother a evangelical Christian married to a Trump voter and his father caring for a wife dying of cancer. Owen longs to escapee the Bible Belt and everything it stands for.
They could not be more different. They become lovers. But life is not a novel or a movie. Sometimes there is no happily ever after. Not when it’s a choice between love and career.
I wasn’t sure how I would respond to a novel about young people finding themselves. I am over forty years beyond that age. But the fine writing and characterization was captivating, the sense of place and time is vivid. Owen’s story is about turning out different from your family, escaping the fate of your peers. Alma’s family history is filled with horror and tragedy, and finding the American Dream.
Author Lee Cole captures America in the age of Trump, opioid addiction, and anti-immigrant sentiment.
The morning after the election that brought Trump into office, Rodin’s The Thinker was found spray painted with swastikas. Owen thinks, “from here on out. We would be crass and ugly, and nothing would be hidden.” His coworker Rando announces that he has “always voted for the anti-establishment candidate…Anybody who’s gonna shake the system up.” He believes that the votes aren’t even counted, that “its all decided behind closed doors by the big banks and the one-percenters.”
Owen’s hometown peers have crashed and burned into addiction, jail, and early death. He takes Alma to Cracker Barrel, explaining its country food and farm decor’s familiarity to working class people, noting that the waitress “had the look of someone on the precipice of ruin.” Visiting Owen’s mom, Alma must contend with the penchant for pork, the separate bedrooms for her and Owen, his mom’s preference for his last girlfriend who she is still in contact with, and her rejection of evolution. Later, Alma muses,” why would an intelligent designer make a universe that resulted in all this? In genocide and capitalism and Taco Bell?”
The question is if their love affair can span their differences, and if their careers are more important. Cole makes us care about these characters.
I received a free egalley from the publisher through NetGalley. My review is fair and unbiased.
I hate giving this two stars. I usually love Read with Jenna picks. And it’s a story about a writer, which is usually my thing.
But it’s a meandering story about Owen, who has returned to Kentucky, to live at home and work as a groundskeeper at a small college in return for a free writing class. He meets Alma, a writer in residence, and they begin a relationship.
The writing is good, if not stereotypical of a first novel by an Iowa Writer’s graduate. But it’s not about family, as we are told. It is about being inside the mind of Owen, who is judgmental and selfish, while telling the reader how much he hates those things in others.
P.S. The fact that he’s from Kentucky and hates it, while this former Kentucky girl still loves it, definitely didn’t help me like the book ;)
This is a highly anticipated and praised debut novel by Lee Cole — described as a modern love story set against the backdrop of the Trump election in 2016.
Let’s dive right in with the basics: first person narration, no quotation marks, no chapter breaks. Yes, this 322 page novel is split neatly into two parts.
——
𝘐 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯, 𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸?
——
The above quote pretty much sums up this book. It’s just time passing. Owen, our narrator, is at a crossroads in his life, a kind of transitional period. He’s determined to leave his former addict/homeless lifestyle behind him and forge a new path towards his dream of becoming a writer. So, he takes on a job as a groundskeeper at Ashby University primarily because the university allows employees to take one course for free. At a party he meets Alma, who becomes the object of his affections and, eventually, his writing.
While the premise and unique narrative style initially drew me in and was reminiscent of Rooney’s Normal People, King’s Writers & Lovers, and even a touch of pretentiousness like Tartt’s The Secret History (all books that I enjoyed), Cole’s novel fell short for me for two reasons: (1) I couldn’t relate to/sympathize with the narrator, and (2) the plot, if you can call it that, is aimless, meandering, and impactless. I think either one of those things can be overlooked if the other compensates for it. But in Groundskeeping, the only character I connected with was Alma, who was seen through Owen’s white, male gaze and I felt, because of that, she lacked the depth that I knew existed within her.
Groundskeeping does have some beautiful lines and quotes (photo 7 is my fav), though it wasn’t enough to make me fall in love with the book. I kept waiting for an event or character to trigger an emotion in me, but I read the whole book, and felt nothing. Overall, a great debut, but not a new favorite.
Owen is stuck between his humble beginnings, as he sees them, in rural Kentucky, his string of menial jobs, and his sense of himself as a writer living a cerebral life. He's convinced that his girlfriend looks down on him for coming from a blue-collar background, and can't argue with her, as he himself continuously sneers at his parents for their unenlightened political viewpoints and small-town perspectives.
I'm not sure what book Lee Cole thought he was writing here. Possibly a book about a struggling writer. Possibly a book of class differences in romantic relationships. Possibly a book about someone who rejects his conservative upbringing in favor of his current liberal outlook. Unfortunatley, the book ultimately doesn't succeed in being any of those. Instead, it's a mash of unrealized characters who spend a lot of time in unfulfilling conflict with themselves and each other, and it all just seemed pointless and pretentious.
FTC Disclaimer: I received this book from the publisher in exchange for this review.
Some describe this as a love story. Yes, there is a romantic relationship around which the story develops. But, it is so much more. Well written, this is an engrossing story, with good insight into the the different Americas that have been ripped apart by the politics of our times. Through Owen, Cole captures the culture of hard scrabble rural life while also, through Alma, addressing the horror of escaping religious persecution and war and immigrants building the American dream. Along with this, we have a delayed coming of age novel! His observations are poignant, real, complex. What a stunning debut for this author!
I wasn’t thrilled with the writing style; but the story won me over. There were no quotation marks; it felt like I was reading stream of consciousness.
Spoiler alert: The ending is a bit ambiguous and some might be disappointed with it. But, if you look at this novel as slice of life, and we have just been give a small taste of it, it kind of fits.
groundskeeping takes place during election year, telling a love story between two people who come from very different backgrounds. the 'no quotation marks' gave it a bit of a sally rooney-esque feel, although the actual story was vastly different.
owen, our protagonist, and alma, the love interest cannot be more different. owen comes from a working class family who are trump supporting evangelicals. alma comes from a wealthy family of bosnian immigrants. their relationship becomes progressively strained as these disparities come to light and they recognize this. this is a love story without it having a typical romance plot, as it centers more around the two characters as individuals rather than them as a couple.
i can see what cole was trying to accomplish with his debut, however, it fell a bit flat for me. the characters often fell flat and the plot was unfulfilling. the writing was beautiful, but it began to feel aimless about a third of the way in. owen's character was not fleshed out enough for me to sympathize with him, which just made me feel very annoyed at him most of the time. additionally, some parts (as this was in owen's perspective) felt very male gaze-y to me, which was a bit disappointing.
a lot of mixed feelings about this book.
thank you to knopf publishing and netgalley for the arc!
Thank you to the author, Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group and NetGalley, for an ARC in exchange for an honest review.
I realize I am an outlier, but I really disliked this book. It's long-winded and goes nowhere, and takes forever to do so. If I hadn't felt obligated to read and review, due to having been given an ARC, I would not have finished it. There are glimpses of what the author is capable of - the juxtaposition of a conservative upbringing and having become more liberal, the subtle shame of revealing unexpected family situations to a romantic partner who comes from a very different background, a young author struggling to find their voice. Overall, I found the characters underdeveloped, the relationships unfulfilling and the premise of the book ultimately pointless.
I seem to have a thing for books about struggling young writers. 𝘞𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴 & 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴 by Lily King was one of my favorite books of 2020, and this year 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 by debut author Lee Cole may very well end up in a similar spot. Owen Callahan had always known he wanted to write, but after graduating college, had frittered away much of his 20’s with dead end jobs, drugs, and no real direction. After living in his car for a couple of months, Owen returns to a place he both loves and feels alienated from, rural Kentucky. “𝘐’𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐’𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦, 𝘪𝘯 𝘒𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘺, 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐’𝘮 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘐’𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴." He moves into his grandfather’s basement and takes a job groundskeeping at the local college, giving him access to writing classes. 𝘎𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘴𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 is the story of Owen’s journey to find his own voice among the cacophony of other voices constantly surrounding him. Many are those of people he doesn’t care to hear, but others he loves and wants to understand. His grandfather, especially, pulls at Owen’s heart and makes him want to be a better man. The bond between the two was beautifully written and just one example of Cole’s talented writing. This book shone brightest in two areas. First, the incredible sense of place the author delivered. He made me feel like I was there in Kentucky at all times. The character development was also a standout, with a unique and truly interesting cast that I felt I knew well. In many ways a coming-of-age story, I loved the slow, steady build to Owen’s understanding of what he wants most in life. Lee Cole is a talented writer and one I look forward to reading more from.
I decided to read this after reading an interview with the author in which he described the conflict in his own life, as an educated millennial moving in liberal circles, but coming from a red state and a Trump supporting family. If I have a complaint with much of modern fiction, it’s the failure to really get into the heads of those who don’t tend to participate in writing it.
Groundskeeping stops short of giving us a pro-Trump protagonist, but like the author, protagonist Owen is an aspiring writer in Kentucky with a job pruning trees, a family ground down by ill health and dodgy politics, and a middle class writer girlfriend from an immigrant (Bosnian) family. Much of the book is concerned with Owen and Alma’s relationship and inability to communicate effectively across the class divide. Owen is plagued by impostor syndrome, unable to trust her because he feels inferior. Alma often fails to see him at all, concerned by the window-dressing of his past – religious relatives, former drug problem.
Owen also has anxiety troubles: Most of the money I made—especially in Colorado—went to buy beer or pills or newly legalized weed. My family’s euphemism for this was “partying,” as in When are you going to quit partying and get your act together? I’d heard some version of this question many times. But it hadn’t felt like much of a party. More than anything, I’d felt pathetic and lonely, and this loneliness had reached a kind of unbearable fever pitch. The tendency was to glamorize, to try and make it all seem rugged and blue-collar, when really, it had been difficult and repetitive and often humiliating. I glamorized, then I felt guilty for glamorizing.
There were lots of good observations. I particularly liked Owen’s job, and the different sorts of people working it alongside him.
Other parts of the book pushed too many of my pet peeve buttons. Specifically, Cole is an Iowa graduate and this book could not be more Iowa, with its stripped back prose and careful construction and dialogue. It’s also autofiction and meta, two things I’m cautious about. Well, mainly I just wish authors would use their imaginations.
Owen and Alma have a fight because he uses her personal life in his writing, then offers to change the names. Throughout, writing is puzzlingly treated as an exercise in mining your own life and changing the names. I know autofiction is a thing…but surely writing is more than that?
The problem with making me think that all of this is pulled from life is then I read the acknowledgments with a fine-tooth comb, and see that the family all seem pulled from life, and next thing I know I’m googling the real-life girlfriend and trying to decide if she really does look like Emily Dickinson and what is this in aid of? When did fiction, actual fiction, get such a bad name? And why am I spending my time wondering what’s true when really, a lot of it wasn’t that interesting anyway, and could have been fictionally improved?
This felt like Iowa Writer’s Workshop meets Hillbilly Elegy to me, which is not a space I’d like to spend more time in.
What I found most perplexing/frustrating about Cole’s narrative was the continuous argument that Owen makes essentially saying all Kentuckians (which are apparently a stand in for all rural people, which is it’s own thing I won’t deal with here) aren’t one thing, but I feel like Cole then only really shows them to us as one thing. How many ways can we see Kentuckians as rural, conservative, bible-thumping, addicts (smokers, drinkers, drug addicts, etc.)? The book is set in Louisville! They go out a lot and theoretically are part of the public! Where are the other kinds of Kentuckians?!
On the flip side we have Alma as our stereotypical “coastal elite,” who apparently can’t connect to anyone in Kentucky besides Owen because she’s far too civilized and therefore snobby. It also felt icky that Alma is a Bosnian immigrant, which is something Cole is trying to engage with, but also shoves all these unappealing characteristics on (I’m also guessing he doesn’t know about the very significant Bosnian population in Bowling Green because that could’ve provided a very fruitful plot, but I’m not the one writing this book).
The 2016 election serves as the backdrop for the narrative and hammers in the “why can’t we just get along” vibes. Owen is apparently the only person who can see both sides, but will never say a damn word to try to stand up to anyone in either direction.
Ultimately, this reads to me like Cole, as a Kentuckian who left the state for a time, is defending the state to “outsiders” (whoever they may be) while still harboring a healthy dose of self-hatred about his own Kentucky identity. Or maybe I’m projecting. But I hope more of my fellow KY readers will weigh in on this one.
(4.5) In Cole's debut novel, two aspiring writers meet on a Kentucky college campus and form a romantic connection despite very different backgrounds. There are stereotypes to be overcome as Owen introduces Alma to Kentucky culture and slang. The novel takes place in 2016–17, and Donald Trump's election serves as an incendiary topic that divides families and colleagues. The gentle satire of the pretensions of writing programs is another element I particularly enjoyed. Groundskeeping has so much going for it: three-dimensional characters, vivid scenes ripe for the Netflix treatment, timely themes of class and political divisions, and touching relationships, including a romance you'll care about. One of my favorite novels of the year so far.
This is the kind of novel that reviewers dream about, an absolutely charming novel by a debut author. I was totally engaged by the narrator, Owen, as he struggled to find himself and his voice. What does it mean to be raised in Kentucky? I think it not only spoke to me as a novel but as a glimpse at the cultural divide that is currently splitting our country.
Owen is a young man, with literary talent and ambition, caught between the world of Kentucky culture and the America of diversity and intellectualism. The NEW America is well represented by Alma, a talented writer from a worldly, immigrant family. As a reader I experienced the constant tension between the two worlds.
The author left me with a yearning to look up the fictional couple and find out about their future!
A quiet and character-driven story about a young man from Kentucky, Owen, who is working as a groundskeeper at a college which enables him to sign up for a writing course when not working (called "jungle narratives"). We learn that Owen has had a troubled early 20s and comes from a right wing family, growing up in working-class rural Kentucky.
He meets a writer-in-residence, Anna, during his time at the college, and they seem to be polar opposites: Anna's parents migrated to the US from war-torn Bosnia in the 90s and have worked their way up to being business owners and living a very comfortable middle-class lifestyle in the suburbs. The two are brought together through a mutual attraction and shared love of writing, and as the story progresses we see them interact with one another's families. These interactions then go on to shape their writing and impacts on their relationship too.
This was a well-paced story of tensions in pre-Trump America, and then in the fall out of the election. My only tiny criticism would be that Anna's character wasn't quite as developed as Owen's, but this is a minor niggle. I thought the writing was excellent (hard to believe this is a debut) and the themes well handled. Highly recommended!
Thank you Netgalley and Faber & Faber for the advance copy, which was provided in exchange for an honest review.
before reading this book I thought I pretty much universally loved autofiction about writers being writers but I guess I had just been lucky enough to avoid books like this because holy shit this is so heavy-handed and gratuitous and every exchange of dialogue includes one character subtextually going wow, you'd have to be really witty to think of a line like that
it tries insanely hard to be a period piece .. every few pages it was “he put on Redbone by Childish Gambino which by the way, had just dropped a few days ago in case you needed another reminder that it’s November 2016." to sell this book on the premise of it being about a character who’s perturbed by the 2016 election but whose convictions pretty much start and end at disliking Toby Keith songs is ridiculous. something amazing is that the book also presumes a princeton grad, or really anyone outside of the Bible Belt, wouldnt have heard of the Scopes trial or be able to comprehend it and that’s pretty representative of the tone of the book
it's also not stylistically interesting enough to warrant a) no quotation marks and b) thinking a reader should suspend their disbelief enough to imagine the main character capable of writing anything worth reading let alone the fellowships and immediate praise he's thrown in the book
Owen, a couch surfing, living in his car 20 something returns to his roots - poor, rural Kentucky to live in his grandfather's basement and takes a job as a groundskeeper in exchange for a free college course. He meets Alma, a writer in residence who is a child of immigrants who have liberal, middle class roots and who has achieved an ivy league education through her hard work. Somehow they are attracted to one another.
The dialog is wonderful. The concept of liberal vs conservative has been flipped to Owen who is white, destitute, and from a conservative background. The immigrant has achieved middle class status. Owen's inability to shake his roots and his arrogance & indifference to others drives the narrative. He judges. He has misconceptions. He puts Alma in uncomfortable situations. He floats in and out of other's lives. He continually breaks the trust others put in him. The callous cruelty towards his grandfather is unbearable. The reader anticipates his action while craving Owen's change of heart.
This story held my attention from the opening. Would be a great book for a discussion.
It's really a shame. Lee Cole is such a great writer and had an opportunity to write about all of the awesome things Kentucky has to offer but instead chose to throw in so many depressing things along with everything he hates I guess. The main character was just an awful person and I hated the way he treated his family and how the western part of the state kept getting brought up in a bad way. And don't get me started on how he just had to throw in KFC like it's every family in Kentucky's weekly dinner by page nine. Really?
There were times when I wanted to stop reading, but only because some aspect of Owen's thinking or behavior was an embarassing reflection of me that I would have rather forgotten. He's an imperfect character and a not entirely reliable narrator, but his miscues are all very real. More than once I had that feeling of wanting to yell at the screen in a horror movie, "Don't do that" while knowing that if I were in his place I would have done exactly the same stupid thing.
My connection to Owen was particularly strong because I too am a Kentuckian and I have much the same mixed emotions of pride and shame about my state that Owen has. It's my place, my people - beautiful, colorful with a history as rich and interesting as any place you could name. I am at home there, and yet at the same time completely alienated and out of place. As much as I love it, I can't stand it. Why do they have to be such troglodytes? Why do they have to keep shooting themselves in the foot with self-inflicted poverty, bad schools, horrible political leaders and ranking in the 40s among the 50 states in so many categories? I moved away long ago, and yet, though less and less of my family remain and I have long since lost touch with all of my childhood friends, I still feel the pull of the place, and still feel a kinship with even the most unreconstructed of them.
In Owen's case this pride/shame and feeling of belonging yet not belonging define him as a person and a writer. They are his burden but also his strength. I don't think that he would have had a hope of becoming a writer without this internal turmoil. Partly it's the normal feelings of a young person trying to find his way in the world. But when coming of age is tied together with the development of a creative artistic mind, it gets deeper and more complicated. It's a Kentucky version of Roberto Bolano's Savage Detectives.
I enjoyed the way that Owen's development as a writer is reflected in the narrative style. Tony, the teacher of Owen's Jungle Narratives class is an idiot and a clown, but Owen learns a thing or two about writing from him that you can see expressed in the writing of the book as the story progresses. This interconnection between the style of the book and Owen's own development as a writer continues as his relationship with Alma progresses, culminating in their argument over what is allowed to a writer in drawing from life and incorporating the stories of others into his own work. Is everything permitted in fiction or at some point does it cross the line into misappropriation? Once again Owen proves to be flawed, but perhaps it is precisely his flaws that are the bedrock foundation on which he will build to become a fine writer.
"Groundskeeping" is about 28 year old Owen, who has returned to his native state, Kentucky, after living in Colorado for several years. The opening lines of the book are:
"I've always had the same predicament. When I'm home in Kentucky, all I want is to leave. When I'm away, I'm homesick for a place that never was."
What follows is Owen's life and his thoughts about his life, after coming home. In fact, he feels acutely that he doesn't have a place that feels like home. Totally broke, Owen is currently living with his grandfather and uncle in the grandfather's basement. He has found a minimum wage job for himself, pruning trees on a college campus. A benefit is that it allows Owen to attend one class per semester tuition-free. He is a college graduate and is intent upon becoming a writer.
Owen meets Alma, who at 26 years old has already published a book of short stories. A romance develops between them. They seemingly come from different worlds. His family is blue-collar and religiously, evangelical Christians. Her family is well-to-do and hail originally from Bosnia. They are Muslims. Alma is intent upon studying the culture and folkways of Kentucky. They meet each other during Donald Trump's candidacy.
I have mixed feelings about the novel. There's a lot of navel-gazing in it, which does not appeal to me. Some of it has to be chalked up to the characters' ages. I enjoyed Owen's thoughts about Kentucky, its history and idiosyncrasies. Pulling in matters of class, race and politics (the early Trump years) was interesting and sometimes funny. I wish the author used quotation marks, normal paragraphs and chapters to structure the book. It would have made the book easier to read. Still, I liked the story.
i had a ton of notes on this novel & then returned it to the library with said notes tucked between the pages. it's very good. relevant, heartbreaking, funny, uncomfortable, & empathetic. i really hope that owen gets on that plane but don't think he does.
REVIEW: Do you ever read a book and you finish and say “what was the point of this novel??”.. Yeah, that was me with Groundskeeping.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m a literary/contemporary fiction ho. I love a story simply for the sake of being a good story. But this was just not it. It was an absolute snooze fest, and as I finish, I’m just like.. what was the meaning in it all? Why was it written?
First, let me say that I had to switch to audio. Unlike Normal People, where I was able to keep up, this book does not use quotation marks for dialogue, so it was sooo hard to figure out who was talking and when. Because of this, I felt the audiobook would serve me better, and I did felt it helped me out in that aspect. But I gotta ask, why do authors do this?! It can be done well, but in this case, it wasn’t - and only added to the confusion and my dislike of the story.
I don’t have too much more to say other than I didn’t enjoy this and wish I had spent my time on another book.
THE POSITIVE: I do think the writing was done well; just add a more interesting plot and this author would do better in the future!
🍃VERDICT: 2 STARS ⭐️⭐️
🎶 SONG REC: “Burning Down the House” - Talking Heads (we did get a full essay on Talking Heads in this book which I appreciated)
This book had me feeling torn. I finished this book loathing the protagonist despite reading certain passages that I related to. Those feelings of wanting to escape your hometown and the common discriminations and close-mindedness of family and friends. I just hope I wasn't as insufferable as Owen in my most "I got to get out of this town" moments when I was younger. I kept waiting for Owen to mature and maybe look back and see how the people from his home have shaped him into who he has become and that those same people genuinely care about him. Maybe the instant arguments and conflict are done to show the tense nature of family dynamics after the 2016 election but it seemed overdone and, if anything, a flaw in Owen's character to suddenly discard any and all positive aspects of these people due to who they may had voted for. (Yes, I know how someone votes says a lot about themselves and it has become increasing difficult to have actual discourse with someone with opposing views but we got to keep trying, right?)
The protagonist and his love interest, Alma, also had moments of being annoying in that they seem to be the quintessential hipsters who have to present themselves as having better taste and opinions than everyone else. The same ones that look down on even the people they are most like and wish to surround themselves with compared to others (especially those on the opposite end of the political spectrum). I definitely wondered if their necks were hurting from looking down on everyone while on their high horse.
Despite these quarrels, I was sucked into the story and the writing. There are some beautiful passages in here and the spiritual journey of Owen as he tries to figure out his life along with navigating his relationship with his family, friends, and Alma definitely felt real. I also wish there was more with some supporting characters like Cort, James, and Rando as toward the end of the book they are given their small bit of closure and then are gone.
I do need to say something about the characterization of Western Kentucky and Paducah, since I am from there. Yes, there are a lot of conservative folks in this Republican state (surprise!). However, there is also a large group of people in the area that are not. People who do not agree with the majority and would likely had made up the entire friend group of Owen. Yet, this book is written as if they do not exist. I'm not sure if this was a publisher choice to really drive in the point of where Owen was from or if it reflects the feeling of shocked defeat that those people felt after the election. Perhaps rendered silent in defeat. I do not know.
This is definitely a book I complained about yet also made me contemplate and reflect. For that, I'm thankful for it being written.
This book didn’t grab me at all and if it hadn’t been a giveaway, I wouldn’t have kept reading. It took a painful 2 months to finish as I forced myself to pick it up again and again to read a few more pages. It’s not bad writing but I just found it boring. There’s a line where one character tells another about writing, “plot can just be time passing”, and that would summarize this plot quite well. So if you don’t have plot, you develop characters, right? Nope, not so much. It’s written in the first person so we only get our main character’s view of the world. The way in which he seems to feel ashamed or embarrassed by his family, even while he’s mooching off them and in one case, stealing from them, doesn’t make spending time in his head very enjoyable. 2.5 stars rounded up even though I should probably round down.
I don’t think I can accurately describe what it’s like to read a book set in the only two places I’ve ever lived, Western Kentucky and Louisville. To flip through pages that tell of a life and landscape so familiar was both eerie and comforting and somehow sad. This books captures so well the juxtaposition of the rural and the city and how that shapes the people we become.
Fair warning to take this absolutely glowing review with just the tiniest grain of salt. That's because Lee Cole's debut novel Groundskeeping is an absolute wheelhouse book for me, so there's almost no chance I wasn't going to love it. And love it, I did!
It's a campus novel. It's a love story. It's an examination of class and politics. It's a look at how writers are inspired to write what they write. And it's all narrated by a guy from a small conservative rural town trying to punch his way up in the world. Yeah, there's a lot going on here, but it works. Cole is a deeply astute writer and all these ingredients of story combine to create a richly satisfying dish.
The story is this: Owen is 28 and drifting. He lives in this rural Kentucky town with his grandfather and Uncle Cort and works as a groundskeeper at the local small college. Still with aspirations of being a writer after crashing and drifting a bit, the job allows him to take an English class, a first step to getting his life back on track. Then, he meets Alma, 26, an already medium-successful poet and novelist who is a writer-in-residence for the year at the college. Sparks fly!
But Alma's background -- her parents emigrated from Bosnia to escape the war when she young, she's a Muslim though non-practicing, and she attended Princeton -- is very different from Owen's. Owen's parents, though he's mildly estranged from both (hence why he's living with his grandfather) are both divorced and remarried, both evangelical Christians, and very conservative. Alma's parents, immigrants, doctors, well-educated, are...not those things. They're two families, both alike in dignity, but both skeptical of their children's choice of partner.
The story is set in 2016 and all around Owen's and Alma's rural Kentucky town, Trump is ascendent. Though Owen and Alma are both appalled by this development, their different backgrounds create its own tension. Owen has a mild inferiority complex, always wondering if Alma looks down on him, and bristles when she ask him about things like his past drug use, etc. Even in (or especially in?) this day and age, can two people from such different origins make it work?
As I read, I felt about this book about how I feel about all books I'm connecting with. I didn't want it to end. In fact. let's let Cole himself explain what this is like (in the context of Owen meeting Alma for the first time):
“I felt the competing desires, as I often did when meeting someone new, to know everything at once and to save it all for later. It was like the feeling one has reading a good book, the sensation of being propelled toward the end and at the same time wishing to linger.”
That's not a particularly original sentiment, I realize. But just the way Cole writes these sentences illustrates that point so clearly and deftly. It's a good representation of his style, his perceptiveness, and why I loved reading this.
This novel first arrived on my radar when I noticed blurbs from both Ann Patchett and Richard Russo, two of my all-time favorite writers. So naturally I was going to check it out. If you are one of the many people, like me, who was disappointed by the latest Sally Rooney novel, try this one instead. The feel is similar, but this is so much better.
“I’ve always had the same predicament. When I’m home, in Kentucky, all I want is to leave. When I’m away, I’m homesick for a place that never was.” While this brilliant first sentence of Lee Cole’s new novel was his centring dilemma pushing him to write this story, for me, Groundskeeping revolves around the Walt Whitman quote that people contain multitudes.
The 2016 American election cycle and the following four years contained so much vileness it’s hard to, looking back, comprehend it all. While I’m not American, that poison of hatred spread globally and was felt, still felt, everywhere. One of the most confounding results of this time period is our seemingly collective death of empathy and the complete lack of trust in the fact that most people are inherently good. Societally we have fallen into this constant dichotomy that if someone doesn’t hold the same opinions as you then they aren’t on your “side” and therefore are wrong, ignorant and evil. We’ve forgotten how to hear other people’s opinions without being personally affronted. We’ve forgotten that people screw up, say the wrong thing. Because of the instantaneousness with which a person needs to form a “complete and wholly correct” opinion on every issue slamming into us every day, compounded with the absolute social persecution that will follow if you say something incorrectly, people are mostly silent. Distrustful.
What Lee Cole did in this story is a masterful exploratory look at the whole self - all its good and all its bad and all its ugly. No single character in this story is wholly one or the other. Division and distrust are our standard but Groundskeeping forces you to look more closely at those walled off, steadfast opinions. In a time where we are all screaming, we’ve completely forgotten how to listen. Tenderly and simplistically wrote, perceptive, empathetic, and bold, put this novel in the hands of Ann Patchett and Lily King fans.