In her graceful, affecting fourth novel, Carey (Love in the Asylum
) revisits themes from her previous books—family, tragedy, grief and resilience—with visceral drama and pathos. In the mid-'80s, on the outskirts of Boston, 15-year-old Lena and 10-year-old Owen Furey are coming of age in the aftermath of their older brother Hugh's disappearance. Two years on, Hugh is presumed dead, and the Furey parents have buried themselves in their work: mother Elizabeth as a medical student, father Henry as an editor of religious books. Left to their own devices, the Furey children flirt with self-destruction, giving flesh to the mythic symbolism of their last name. While Lena pursues a dangerous search for proof of Hugh's fate, tracking his movements through images from his old camera, Owen calls on Hugh as a protecting angel to help him deal with his stirring sexual attraction to best friend Danny (and with Danny's harsh reprisals). Though the novel suffers from an unwieldy structure, switching between Lena's first person and a third-person portrayal of Owen, the play between sections devoted to each child proves rewarding, suffused in lucid grief and delicate longings. (Aug.)
