By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept | Elizabeth Smart

I generally start my reviews with a synopsis of the beginning of the book—its hook, if you will. I want you to get a quick feel for what the book is about, why you would read it, regardless of what I have to say about it. By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept requires a slight adaptation, as the plot is not really what it's "about." As Yann Martel, in the foreword of my edition, points out (emphasis mine):

[W]hile love is the theme, language is the plot, the character and the setting.

Martel refers to the fact that Elizabeth Smart has written this novel in poetic prose, and her command of language becomes the primary experience of reading. So, to give you the tiniest taste, here's how she describes the moment the narrator's lover arrives at the door:

When the Ford rattles up to the door, five minutes (five years) late, and he walks across the lawn under the pepper-trees, I stand behind the gauze curtains, unable to move to meet him, or to speak, as I turn to liquid to invade his every orifice when he opens the door. More single-purposed than the new bird, all mouth with his one want, I close my eyes and tremble, anticipating the heaven of actual touch.

This short passage is exemplary of how the author pinpoints those seemingly mundane moments, filling them vividly with love and desire. She then finds absolute treasures of evocative metaphors, which never feel trite or cliché. In her specificity there always lies a universality, and in her fantastical metaphors a brilliant clarity.

The lyricism is still wrapped around a plot in the traditional sense: it is the story of a woman madly in love with a married man, their affair, and the world interfering—both because of moral qualms about their relationship and because of World War II unfolding in the background. All this is based on Smart's own experience of her relationship with the British poet George Barker, which started in the late 1930s and ended only well after the publication of this novel.

This "scandalous" affair is interesting to look into, but the ever-present poetry transforms the desire into a more universal experience. Every page, paragraph, and phrase resonates with this consuming passion. Smart manages what any butterfly collector could only ever dream of: she captures her subject and presents it to us in all its beauty and detail without killing it, actually presenting it at its liveliest. Truly: sit down, read, and weep.

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