Sarah Yahm's debut novel, Unfinished Acts of Wild Creation, is a pulse of energy, a current of light, a harmonic hum expressed through the unforgettable story of the Rosenbergs: Leon, Louise, and their daughter, Lydia. With impeccable pacing, Yahm passes the narrative of their lives across the decades--from the 1970s Shabbat dinner where Leon meets Louise mere hours after her mother's funeral and forward into the uncertainty of life after unspeakable loss. Winner of the Dzanc Books Prize for Fiction, Unfinished Acts of Wild Creation is full of beauty and intelligence, showcasing Yahm's confident prose and wry humor.
Louise is a free spirit and a classical musician. She carries in her body the prolonged death of her mother, whom she actively disliked despite her undeniable influence. Leon, a therapist, does his best to care for Lydia. Years later, when she learns she also carries her mother's neurological disorder, she's desperate to save Lydia and Leon from the torture of her slow decline, and leaves their home, installing herself in a kibbutz thousands of miles away.
Art, music, and profound acts of sacrificial care provide a compelling rhythm to the novel. Maybe "her mother was right," Lydia muses as she hums in a cave and finds that "the distinction between her voice and her mother's disappeared, like the two of them were one body made only of sound." Or maybe the magic is found in the ordinary bonds of a family, carried through impossible situations by the improbable strength of their love. --Sara Beth West, freelance reviewer and librarian