A Prayer for Owen Meany by John Irving (2009, Ballantine Books Edition, ISBN 978-0-345-41797-8)
An apology to John Irving. I read, Until I Find You, his last published book until his recently released hardcover novel, Last Night in Twisted River. Or at least, I attempted to read Until I Find You. The book frustrated me to no end. Replete with references to a young boy of ten being bedded by older women and similar implausibilities (both moral and physical), the book caused me, for the first and only time in my over fifty years as a reader (beginning with Tip and the classic sequel, Tip and Mitten sometime around 1959), to pitch Irving’s piece of crap into a trash can. Didn’t offer it up to some other poor schmoe. Didn’t take it back to the bookstore so it could be foisted on some unknowing patron as a “quality” used book. I chucked Until I Find You, plain and simple. And then I wrote scathing reviews of the thing for both the Amazon and Barnes and Noble websites. I think my diatribe is still up on Amazon but I believe the editorial staff at barnesandnoble.com (probably fans of Irving’s) never let my review out of the box. In any event, I was told by others who came across my expose’ of Mr. Irving’s prose that I should have read A Prayer for Owen Meany instead. You know what? Those folks were right.
At first, I didn’t really appreciate the depth and breadth of Owen’s story, as related by his best friend, Johnny Wheelwright. In fact, the early paragraphs revealing Owen’s physical, spiritual, and mental attributes seemed a bit creepy. But then I grew to love the little guy; grew to accept the capital letters that Irving uses to depict Owen’s high pitched, juvenile screech; “The Voice”. It is a voice, indeed, for the ages. The plot is complex. The characters, endearing. The ending, though a tad predictable in result, has enough suspense and surprise to compel you to race to the last page. Overall, I must bow to Mr. Irving’s talent. I agree: This is indeed a terrific novel, an American classic. 5 stars out of 5.
