Cressida Connolly

If you don’t think this novel is practically perfect, I’ll send you a replacement

A review of Lila, by Marilynne Robinson. A book that makes you feel newly in love with the world

Summer time: Three sunflowers at dawn. [Alamy / iStock / Getty Images] 
issue 04 October 2014

If there were a harvest festival to honour the bounty of the autumnal book crop, the choir would be in especially good voice this year. There is much cause for rejoicing, with work from Martin Amis, Hilary Mantel, Will Self, Margaret Atwood, David Mitchell, Ali Smith, Sarah Waters. Oddly enough in these secular days, a bookish vicar could glean a sermon from any one of three new novels — by Ian McEwan, Michel Faber and Marilynne Robinson — in each of which the Bible is central. Faber’s book is said to be a science-fiction caper in which the holy book is exported to another planet, where alien inhabitants give it an enthusaistic reception. McEwan’s is a rationalist refutation of literalist Bible reading. Marilynne Robinson’s stance is likely to be the most subtle, measured and intellectually engaging.

There isn’t another writer like Marilynne Robinson, but a close equivalent can be found in the films of Terrence Malick, especially Days of Heaven.

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