Still Life - I Like It

Still Life

Author: Louise Penny

Normally death came at night, taking a person in their sleep, stopping their heart or tickling them awake, leading them to the bathroom with a splitting headache before pouncing and flooding their brain with blood. It waits in alleys and metro stops. After the sun goes down plugs are pulled by white-clad guardians and death is invited into an antiseptic room.

But in the country death comes, uninvited, during the day. –Narrator

Life is change. If you aren't growing and evolving, you're standing still, and the rest of the world is surging ahead. –Myrna

Jane Neal had known that when her time came God wouldn't ask how many committees she'd sat on, or how much money she'd made, or what prizes she'd won. No. He'd ask how many fellow creatures she'd helped. And Jane Neal would have an answer. –Narrator

Barnesandnoble.com describes this book, the first in a series following Armand Gamache, as such:

Chief Inspector Armand Gamache of the Surêté du Québec and his team of investigators are called in to the scene of a suspicious death in a rural village south of Montreal. Jane Neal, a local fixture in the tiny hamlet of Three Pines, just north of the U.S. border, has been found dead in the woods. The locals are certain it's a tragic hunting accident and nothing more, but Gamache smells something foul in these remote woods, and is soon certain that Jane Neal died at the hands of someone much more sinister than a careless bowhunter.

I liked this book and have already added the series to the list of books I'm compiling for my post-project literary journey. But when I sat down to write this post, I drew a blank. Why did I like this book? What did I like about it? What has it taught me? For I believe that every book I read teaches me something – even if that something is simply, "never read another book by Lauren Conrad." But I couldn't figure out what I'd learned from this book or why I'd enjoyed it so much…

And then I re-read the quotes I'd pulled from the book as I was reading it. And I was struck by the last one I listed above. God doesn't care about your earthly achievements, but rather He wants to know how many lives you've touched. I'm not trying to get into a theological discussion here, so let's just say that when a person measures his life, the philosophical and romantic measure against which he would stack himself would be the number of people whose lives have been improved by his presence.

The victim in this book touched many people in the small town in which she lived. Clearly not all of those touches were for the better, as at least one person wanted her dead. But the people in her life (even her murderer) also touched her. Jane took these encounters and experiences and poured them into her artwork. I suppose this is what the book ultimately taught me.

But why did I enjoy reading it? That question led me into a dizzying tailspin of circular thought. Why do I like this book? Because it's a mystery. Yeah, but why did I like this particular mystery? Well, I don't know really. If I can’t figure out why I liked this particular mystery, then how do I know I like mysteries at all? Well, because I just do… I like them. Yes, but why? Because they're enigmas, puzzles, something to work out? Sure, but if all I'm looking for is a puzzle, why not just watch an episode of CSI? Because… well… So if I can't tell why I like mysteries in general or this mystery in particular, why do I continue to read them? Where's the draw? You never finger the killer correctly, anyway. I don't know… maybe I shouldn't read them anymore… maybe I've wasted a ton of time reading mysteries… maybe I'm not cut out for writing these posts…

And then I was told to stop overthinking it. So, to summarize: I liked this book… I liked the puzzle, I didn't mind the characters (though I can't say that I completely understand the author's introduction and then seeming dismissal of Agent Nichol – although from accidental research, I just learned that her time in the world of Gamache is not quite through after Still Life), and I enjoyed the Canadian setting. Beyond that, I can't tell you much of anything.

My takeaway: Life is about the people you touch and the people who touch you – art is often about the same. And sometimes it's best just not to ask why.