In spite of the warnings that “The Book of Ruth” by Jane Hamilton (328 pages) had no redeeming qualities, I plowed ahead to verify the report! And, to be sure, it was a test to see if one can endure reading such a series of tragedies. Sadness pervades the pages; there is no escape. Having said that, it is a book that should be added to any list of readings worthy of “the strong of heart”.
In spite of a life that can only be described as blessed with luck and good fortune, I have been a student of death, grief, despair, and tragedy. Whether this trajectory started with my early family life, including my mother’s death when I was thirteen, I cannot be sure even if it is a reasonable basis for such an interest. Studies in existentialism sharpened the view that there was an inherent tragic dimension in life, including the question of its inherent absurdity. Thinking of events depicting man’s power to destroy others, now more streamlined than ever, complements individual cruelty noted in domestic abuse and discrimination based on race, gender, or religion.
My personal good fortune to have escaped my youth rather unscathed and to life an adult life marked by signs of a warm family life, relative success at work, and good health only enforces the view that none of this is attributed to my personal qualities. It is, as in the view of John Rawls, just luck! “The Book of Ruth” depicts the raw outcome for many, many. Ruth’s story takes place in the Midwest, but there are even worse stories never told about those in Dafur and Rwanda, those born into dire poverty as Haiti. The list of tragedies is enormous and in that view, reading “The Book of Ruth” captures extraordinarily well the dilemmas in such lives.
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