THE LACUNA. Kingsolver, Barbara. 2009.

I read this, or tried to, this past winter, 2010.

I have loved Barbara Kingsolver's previous books. THE POSIONWOOD BIBLE is a contemporary masterpiece, and her other novels have been compelling and well written as well.

THE LACUNA - not so much. And I'm not sure why.

Once again, Kingsolver creates a character and sets him in the midst of history being made - in this case, in the household of Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera, Mexico City, early twentieth century. It is a politically and artistically radical household, contrasted with the mild-mannered-fade-into-the-background narrator and main character, one Harrison William Shepherd. Shepherd is an American citizen, son of a single mother that uses men for social climbing, being raised in the current turmoil of Mexico City and the rising specter of socialism. He becomes a household assistant and errand boy for Frida Kahlo and later, Leon Trotsky.
However, Kingsolver renders her main character too pale and passive amongst his brightly colored surroundings, I think. Shepherd spends his days recording and observing the ideas and actions of those he works for - the Riveras and Leon Trotsky - but does not reveal enough of himself amid this narrative. This, in my opinion, makes for a very boring story and a boring narrator. In the latter half of the novel, when Shepherd is living on his own, it seems he isn't fleshed out enough to really care about. I honestly couldn't finish the book, simply because I was so bored with it and didn't care what happened to Shepherd. We already know what happened to Trotsky, Kahlo and Rivera. In order for this novel to be successful, we have to also care about Shepherd too in his role as narrator. What does he learn, what does he become, what does he love? Kingsolver makes William so wishy-washy and passive, one really never discovers the answers to the above, as well as what he seeks in the first place. He's homosexual and hides it. So what? It doesn't define who he is, and niether, really, does the lives of his artist/revolutionary friends.

That's the best I can do to describe why the story fails to compel me to keep reading. I was disappointed as I bought the 1st ed. hardcover of this, certain that Kingsolver would be worth it. It wasn't.

Not recommended, even if you're really, really into B. Kingsolver. Definitely do not make this your first read by her. I'm hoping this is just an uncharacteristic snag for her and she will once again grace us with one of her compelling, insightful novels.