REVIEW: "The Frozen River" by Ariel Lawhon
I have lived in my current home for 3 years, and I don’t even know the name of my nextdoor neighbors. I have gathered, from glimpses of him and his wife as they got into and out of their cars, that they are older. They seem to have two teenage or young-adult children. And, based on the political signs they proudly display supporting causes that I actively fight against, I suspect we wouldn’t get along so well if talk turned to politics — which, in fairness, isn’t that uncommon for me, seeing as I’m a democrat living in an affluent, NW Ohio suburb.
What’s significant to me, though, is that I really don’t have to know this individual. If I never meet anyone from this family, I’ll be fine. Because, unlike in decades past, we really don’t depend on our neighbors. Even borrowing a cup of sugar, which was once the most common of neighborly practices, isn’t really a thing anymore - Thanks, Instacart #NotSponsored #SponsorMeInstacart.
Just 1-2 hundred years ago — which, as history goes, is the blink of an eye — not associating with those within your community wasn’t an option. It didn’t matter if the community members had different political or social views, if you just didn’t like them, or, even, if they had done something truly heinous.
Interaction was unavoidable.
Interaction was, perhaps, even necessary for survival.
The Plot
Though Martha Ballard, a community midwife, is well-respected by most within her tiny New England town, there are certainly individuals whom she has rubbed the wrong way. Outspoken and brassy, Martha doesn’t exactly fit the mold of what a woman in late 1700’s America should be. This matters little to her, though. She has the support of the only person whose opinion she really cares about, her doting husband, Ephram.
But Martha’s precarious social position is put to the test when, one fall evening, she is called to inspect a body that has been found in the rapidly-icing river that runs through their Maine town. It doesn’t take any training to determine that the man in question is dead, but death wasn’t brought to his door by the too cold waters in which he was found. It’s Martha’s estimation that he was killed by hanging before entering the water. Though this would seem a tragic event, Martha doesn’t find it as such. As luck, or maybe fate, would have it, the man that has been found dead is one half of a duo that was accused of raping a woman.
With the discovery of this body — which can’t even be buried until the ground thaws sufficiently for digging — the community is thrust into turmoil. On everyone’s lips are questions.
Who killed him?
What will become of the other accused rapist?
And, perhaps most importantly, when, if ever, will life return to normal?
The Good
This novel was absolutely immersive. From the moment I picked it up to the second I turned that last page, I was in the world of this book. This is owing in large part to the fluidity of Ariel Lawhon’s prose. As I would sit and read, her words would wash over me, drowning out the sounds of whatever football game my 14-year-old son had blaring on the TV and whatever inadvisably loud toy my 18 month old toddler was playing with as she sat at my feet.
Another strength that begs mentioning is Lawhon’s characterization. Martha Ballard was an immediately likable and realistic character — who, I guess, should seem realistic as she was based on a real individual. But the way Lawhon brought her to the page made her full and rich and complex. Another personal favorite was her husband, Ephram, whose devotion to Martha was unmatched and unwavering. Their relationship gave me Claire and Jamie from Outlander vibes — though, admittedly, the scenes between them were way less steamy #ItIsNotThatTypeOfBook.
The Bad
There was basically nothing not to like about this novel. Though the plot moved slowly(ish) it didn’t drag. For me at least it was quite the contrary. As I saw the remaining pages dwindle down, I grew increasingly disappointed that the book in which I was so invested would so soon be coming to an end.
The Rating
The Frozen River is a rich, wonderfully paced piece of historical fiction. It’s To Kill A Mockingbird meets Outlander meets Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman — Yes, I know, I am dating myself with that last reference. It’s the perfect novel to read while curled up by the fire, particularly if you’re looking for a reminder of just how indefatigable women can truly be.
It earns 5 out of 5 cocktails.
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*I was provided a gifted copy of this title by the publisher*
