It is the mysterious, hushed intimacy of the book; the perfect dialogue of grieving people; the child's view of huge loss; the minute-by-minute telling of a story that must unfold slowly. Wow. I recommend it highly to all those who love literature. Just one warning: lay in a store of tissues. It's a two-box-er, at least.
After reading his film criticism, I have to confess that I was somewhat disappointed by this novel. It was good, but it did not stand out in any way. So, if all this volume had to offer was the novel itself, I would be able to recommend it, but without too much enthusiasm.
But thankfully, that is not the case. In addition to the text of the novel A DEATH IN THE FAMILY, the volume contains as a sort of preface one of the most extraordinary short pieces in 20th century American fiction, the amazing "Knoxville: Summer of 1915." This piece was not written as part of the novel, but the editors of the volume wisely included it because both dealt with Knoxville. Also, the piece is so amazing that I am certain that they also wanted to include it so that it would not so easily get lost.
I read A DEATH IN THE FAMILY once. I have probably read "Knoxville: Summer of 1915" a good dozen times. So, if the idea of purchasing a book for the sake of a mere five pages seems extravagant, ask yourself, how many books do we reread bits of even a couple of times?
The piece, which was turned into a marvelous composition for voice by Samuel Barber, records the impressions of a typical summer evening, with the narrator a young child. The descriptions are so precise and tactile, that the reader almost feels as if his or her own impressions are being recorded. And despite being merely the record of an average evening moving from late afternoon to dusk to evening, Agee is able to make of it something universal and sad and metaphysical. There are many, many fine moments in this piece, from the first paragraph {beginning "We are talking now of summer evenings in Knoxville, Tennessee, in the time that I lived there so successfully disguised to myself as a child") to the absolutely amazing final paragraph (ending: "Those receive me, who quietly treat me, as one familiar and well-beloved in that home: but will not, oh, will not, not now, not ever; but will not ever tell me who I am").
I am not sure how strongly I would recommend this volume if it were for the novel alone, but anyone who loves great writing needs to own this volume so as to own one of the great short pieces in American literature.
