Candi's Reviews > History of the Rain

“I will know somehow we can come through, and our story is of enduring and aspiring and that it is enough to keep hoping and to keep telling stories, for each other and about each other…”

Ruth Swain has taught me a lesson here and for that I am forever indebted to her. I have a tendency to be harder on myself than I am on anyone else. The shadow that has fallen over the country and the world in recent times has caused me to examine myself and my goals more sharply than ever before. Furthermore, now that my children are less reliant on me than in previous years, I have had the time to think about what I’ve done with my life and what is yet to come. I’ll admit I’ve been clobbering myself a few good ones as a result. Where I imagined I’d be and where I am in actuality are two different things entirely. Is that reason enough for such self reproach? I’m going to move on to History of the Rain and Ruth’s story before I answer that question.

“My father bore a burden of impossible ambition. He wanted all things to be better than they were, beginning with himself and ending with this world. Maybe this was because he was a poet. Maybe all poets are doomed to disappointment. Maybe it comes from too much dazzlement.”

Nineteen year old Ruth Swain, booklover and storyteller extraordinaire, lies in bed beneath the skylight, weakened by illness, while the incessant rain strums overhead. Her mission is to read all the books (three thousand nine hundred and fifty eight of them to be exact!) her father has left behind, to find her father’s soul in the pages of those books, and to compose her own story to share with the rest of the world. Her way of accomplishing this is not a straight, clear path, however. She warns her readers of this fact right away.

“This, Dear Reader, is a river narrative. My chosen style is The Meander.”

The first section of the book was a bit more winding than the rest. Ruth takes us in and out of the various twists and turns of her ancestors’ lives, beginning with her grandfather and his relationship with his own father. In between we meet the people of Faha, Ireland who are drawn so lovingly. The Swains have always been the most exacting judges of their own successes and failures. This passes down through the generations and becomes a burden to Ruth’s father Virgil as he negotiates his bumpy course in life.

“The basis of the Philosophy of Impossible Standard is that no matter how hard you try you can’t ever be good enough. The Standard raises as you do.”

How can one possibly succeed with such a burden? It’s a harsh legacy and one that is difficult to throw down. I came to see eye to eye with Virgil very clearly. Insomuch as this is a load we perceive others to have lain upon us, we are very much to blame ourselves, aren’t we? We alone bear the consequences.

“The Philosophy allows for only one result: we fail the Standard. We suck small hard-boiled stones of disappointment in everything.”

I adore Niall Williams’ writing. I fell in love with his prose a few months ago when I read This is Happiness. His stories are melancholic but laced with warmth and humor. Ruth Swain has not allowed illness to sap her spirit or her acerbic wit. At times I forgot she was a nineteen year old girl; she comes across as a much older, male version of herself. Even a former high school teacher who drops by a couple days a week points out to Ruth that she “writes like a man and I’m a bit Extreme.” Williams makes use of the river as a significant metaphor in this novel, and it works perfectly. It put me in mind of one of my favorite books, Jayber Crow by Wendell Berry. The river is used as a parallel to the circuitous course of our lives.

“Beside the river there are two things you never forget, that the moment you look at a river that moment has already passed, and that everything is on its way somewhere else.”

Readers, writers and books soar in History of the Rain as well. Ruth will often use an example from one of her father’s books to illustrate a point. She will further specify the title, author and edition of the book to which she refers which was quite fun for me! This book is a testament to the power of words to link us together, to heal our wounds and to set us free. I gobbled down so many morsels of wisdom related to reading. My highlighting finger got a workout! So much of what Ruth tells us resonated with me on a very personal level, and it will likely do so with many of my intimate reader friends here as well. The way this online platform for sharing books has enriched my life and forged valuable connections becomes even more evident when I contemplate Ruth’s observations.

“When my father first took me to Ennis Library I went down among the shelves and felt company, not only the company of the writers, but the readers too, because they had lifted and opened and read these books. The books were worn in a way they can only get worn by hands and eyes and minds; these were the literal original Facebooks, the books where faces had been, and I just loved it, the whole strange sense of being aboard a readership.”

As Ruth writes this story in order to unlock the mysteries in her father’s heart, I too came to an understanding of myself. This is why this book, which I was initially inclined to rate four stars, has made such an impact and is worthy of all five stars. Books can entertain and they can also make you think. They don’t always make a huge difference, but when they do it is a true gift. This is one of those books. I’m on a journey and I wish I could have Ruth dig around my bookshelves and my history so she could tell my story and enlighten me a little bit more. It’s hard to see for yourself what is right in front of you. She has the knack for making it clear. You’ll have to read this for yourself to find out the rest of the story. I hope she will make a difference in your life, too.

“Some people make you feel better about living. Some people you meet and you feel this little lift in your heart, this Ah, because there’s something in them that’s brighter or lighter, something beautiful or better than you, and here’s the magic: instead of feeling worse, instead of feeling why am I so ordinary?, you feel just the opposite, you feel glad. In a weird way you feel better, because before this you hadn’t realised or you’d forgotten human beings could shine so.”

I read this book with fellow buddy reader Laysee, who shares a love for Irish literature and contemplative writing. I can’t think of a book better suited for reading with a dear friend and believer of the power of stories to connect people than History of the Rain. Thank you, Laysee, for accompanying me on this journey. Please take another moment to read her beautiful, insightful review here: Laysee's Review

“I’ve learned that you can never see yourself as another person does. You can never really know who you are for them, at least not until much later. That’s what I think now.”