Emily Ruskovich’s genre defying debut Idaho is a gruesome crime novel, psychological character story, mystery novel, medical drama and love story all in one. I know, it sounds like a lot but in most of the categories, Ruskovich actually delivers. So what aspect of this novel should I focus on? Basic plotline: the parents, Jenny and Wade, and their two daughters June and May live a pretty normal live in the mountains of Idaho, until one day a horrific event changes everything. Jenny kills her youngest daughter with a machete while the family is on a trip to get wood for the winter. June, who witnesses the event, runs away out of fear and has not been seen since that day. Jenny is sentenced to life in prison. Wade marries again but his new wife Ann soon also has to take on the role as caretaker, as Wade is suffering from early onset Alzheimer’s. All these facts we learn pretty early on, so the book is not so much about the plot but about the rational behind it and the characters who are living it.
The story is told from varying perspectives; we get to hear from Jenny in prison, from Wade, his new wife Ann and a younger May. Despite this diversity of voices, we don’t get a proper explanation for why the murder happened nor do we hear from June after the day of the crime. This is where I am left unsure about how I feel about the novel. I do find parts of the way the story is told very unusual and I like how certain events are left open for interpretation but I was also infuriated at times about how little information we get. I know this is a bit of a paradox but I don’t know how to explain it better. What I found most captivating about the novel is also what disturbed me the most. Why would a mother just kill her child out of the blue without any reason? Where is June? Was it really Jenny who did this?
The longer I think about it, the more difficult it becomes for me to decide if I think this is a “good” novel. The writing is absolutely beautiful and Ruskovich creates a dense and imaginative literary version of Idaho that totally blew me away. At the same time though I felt like something was missing. Whether this was an intentional comment by Roskovich on how crimes like these always remain in some ways incomprehensible to those left behind, I don’t know. But I felt like I could read something of that sort in between the lines:
Jenny’s absence seems to describe her better than her presence does; she is a looming vessel of her own withholding.
Maybe she left things open so that we would get to make up our own theories and indeed, I developed a few of those. It was intriguing to keep imagining different reasoning for the actions of characters. So I’m still somehow unsure. Impressed but unsure.