The Blue Hour

The characters in Pritchett’s new novel, a follow-up to Stars Go Blue, have poetic souls. On a particular morning, for example, one character tells her new lover, “You are Paralos to my Piraeus,” then goes on to explain this dual reference. This example represents both a strength and occasional weakness in the book. Pritchett is boldly lyrical, whether she is writing about the eyes of archangels or the dawning of a new day, or especially the love lives of her diverse cast of characters, united in both a quest for love and a residence around the beautiful Blue Moon Mountain. But there also is a need to explain, which feels unnecessary and excessive. The narrative flows seamlessly from love story to love story, and Pritchett finds some texture by writing variously in first, second, and third person. There are Joe and Gretchen, “exploring the crevices and peaks of their desire”; scholarly Jess and veterinarian Ruben; a meth head named Dandelion, hopelessly in love with a rodeo rider; new couple Flannery and Di, skittishly deepening their relationship; also Sergio and Flora, and Zach and Dora, and a handful of others. In this elegant book, there’s an appealing verisimilitude in the way the characters are variously, tentatively connected. (Feb.)