A review by janetreads
Crossing to Safety by Wallace Stegner

challenging reflective tense medium-paced

• Plot- or character-driven? A mix
• Strong character development? No
• Loveable characters? No
• Diverse cast of characters? No
• Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated

I’ve been trying to figure out my thoughts on this book for the last few days since finishing it. Frankly I’d like some friend to read it just to figure out what I’m supposed to do with this story now — although I can’t say whether or not I recommend it. The drive to finish the novel and find out what these characters have done to each other and themselves, as well as my pondering of it after, perhaps points to it being a good novel. On the other hand, it’s one of those books that leaves you wondering “has the author created a story about such a deeply flawed narrator who can’t face his own story? Or is this an author that has somehow become oblivious to the possible inner lives of at least half of his characters?” In other words, do I give Stregner the benefit of the doubt that this novel is not reflective of an author’s troubling perception (or really lack thereof) of women? We know the narrator is unreliable which makes for a challenging and often interesting read. The narrator assumes a sort of omniscient stance while freely admitting that he wasn’t present for certain parts of the story, or he struggles to rexall it all in order, or struggles to recover the details. Throughout I was waiting for the moment when these people would truly & fully emotionally wreck each other. It seemed inevitable. But according to our narrator we never get that. The only “snake in eden” is his friend’s wife’s assertiveness. It seems to take all his academic prowess to hold back from just going ahead and calling her a bitch. At least he’d be honest about his feelings if he had. Instead satiated by his conveniently obedient & calm (&soon crippled, and therefore fully dependent) wife, he avoids confrontations with the gift horse. By the end I was fatigued by a story of friendship inwhich friends seemed to  lack a clear understanding of each other; and in which the central binding friendship (between the two wives) is left unexplored — the male narrator does not even seem curious about the friendship. Ultimately I was fatigued by a novel of a safe effacing yet highly self-assured man who claims to have experienced this highest level of friendship and attachment and yet we still don’t know any of these people by the end. Of course if this is all by author’s design I will likely still be pondering the whole thing a couple months from now. We’ll see.