By Kelsey McConnell
Daily Bruin Contributor
A nun’s story with a promising twist, “Lying
Awake” fails to end with resolution and deliver
satisfaction.
Mark Salzman’s newest work of fiction, “Lying
Awake,” has an intriguing premise. Sister John of the Cross,
a Carmelite nun in present-day Los Angeles, has acquired the
ability to transcend her own humanity. Chronic headaches give
Sister John the chance to both suffer as Christ did and experience
pain-induced visions.
However, the veracity of these experiences comes into question
when the Sister learns that her headaches are a symptom of a
medical condition rather than a direct line to God. Sister John is
diagnosed as an epileptic ““ the same disease suspected to
contribute to the creative surges of Van Gogh, Dostoevsky and
Socrates ““ and this prognosis leads her to question her life
as a servant of God.
The action of the novel is a bit tangled. It begins slowly, then
jumps back through time, introduces conflict and closes by leaving
that conflict unresolved.
A side plot, involving a young nun struggling with the monastery
life-style, falls flat and adds length to the novel without adding
depth. Salzman tried to solve such plot trouble with a non-linear
narration that dips into the protagonist’s childhood, without
linking this diversion in any meaningful way to the friction of
Sister John’s present life.
Also, though Sister John’s own thoughts are provocative in
their absolute reliance on the power of God to heal and teach, her
conversations with others seem contrived and uninspiring.
The single priest in the novel is aloof ““ giving brusk
advice and little sympathy to the Sister in pain ““ without
explanation. Not only does he fail to give Sister John substantial
advice in her confusion, he fails to give the novel any special
insights into the psyche of the clergy. Sister John’s
conversations with other nuns reach for charm but end up being
rather bland.
During a scene in which Sister John must confront her
long-estranged mother, however, the novel does offer a rich
portrait of a daughter in conflict. Her instinct is to be angry at
an alcoholic mother who abandoned her as a young girl, but her
anger is soothed by her moral imperative to forgive and love.
Sister John’s ability to rise above her own emotions to
better serve her faith is a thought-provoking situation, a rare
find in the novel as a whole.
Another concept with possibility, Sister John notices the
similarity between the order of religion and the order of medicine
during a hospital stay. Two historically juxtaposed vocations, the
doctor and nun pose some interesting questions about the bounds of
science and faith.
Salzman’s resolution to Sister John’s crisis of
faith is to resolve nothing. This is an interesting twist,
especially since the Sister has quickly deferred to her faith to
resolve all previous conflicts. However, instead of ending with a
provocative emphasis on the many choices Sister John could make in
her faith, Salzman just abruptly stops writing.
The descriptions and metaphors in “Lying Awake” are
often lovely and effortless, and the sparse narration infused with
the languid thoughts of Sister John is a good mirror of cloistered
life. The Sister’s description of the abbey, its trees and
birds, paints a picture of an urban area overcome by natural
beauty.
Unfortunately, when Sister John begins to treat her disease, the
writing style of the narration changes from sparse but pretty to
mundane and ordinary. This change in style is meant to parallel the
loss of Sister John’s transcendent visions, but without a
more substantial end to the plot, the change leaves the last
chapters of the novel dry.
It might be worthwhile for the spiritual reader to pick up the
paperback as beach reading, but with its few especially
illuminating ideas and a rather dull pace, “Lying
Awake” rests comfortably at good but falls short of great.
Serious readers cannot help but be disappointed.