Lovely writing and a striking cover pulled me in to this literary thriller. Living in remote northern Idaho, Ann tries to piece together what happened to Wade's first wife and their two daughters. The writing is lovely, and the themes include grief, love, and redemption, but it struggles towards the end, perhaps including too many view points. Overall, I would still recommend it.

*Mother and daughters book club read for March, 2021.

This is a story of grief and loss told from multiple perspectives; an introspective, character-driven story that must be read slowly and savored, taking the time to notice how each descriptive word was so carefully chosen by the author. At the heart of the story is a shocking event that rips a family apart. The reader yearns to know why this happened. The story is related in a fragmentary style, bringing in other characters, crossing timelines. One of the big themes of the story is memory, as the father of the family has early-onset dementia and his memories are slipping away. Another theme is forgiveness and what that means for each character. Do not expect an ending tied neatly with a ribbon here: the story will haunt your thoughts long after. A fine debut novel from a wonderful writer, to be sure.

Now is the time for me to admit something rather embarrassing: I was given an arc of this new novel from the publisher via NetGalley way back in 2016, back when I was new to NG and guilty of requesting more books than it was possible to read in a timely manner. Unfortunately it fell through the cracks and was never read. That was definitely my loss. So when it was my turn recently to choose a book for our monthly book club read, I decided it was finally time to rectify that mistake and invite my daughters to read it with me. I'm so glad I did!

This book went slower than I expected yet I still enjoyed it. The non-linear story slowed me down and required less of the multi-tasking reading style I am often able to take. I can't wait to read more from this author.

Took me an eternity to get through this one, although not necessarily the book’s fault. A lot to love here, but something was a little off in its execution. Still worth reading I think.

Sometimes a book will completely subvert your expectations by delivering something so baffling and new that you are left gobsmacked at the end of it. At the completion of this book, I found myself blinking in surprise and looking around for anyone to talk to about this novel. This is a book where the core act that links all the characters in never described but the impact is deeply delved with evocative writing, complex character studies and a timeline that is as twisty as the murder at the center. I think this is what interested me the most about the book- what happens around a horror, less the act itself. If you are someone who wants a linear plot, this book will frustrate you. If you need answers, this enigma of a story won't provide. If you want to experience love in many forms and variations, this is your book. If you want a hard look at identity (what remains fixed and what changes) through a 50-year time span, this could be a book for you. If you want to close a book and have it reverberate in your heart and mind long after, then this is your book.

Fabulous on audio! Ruskovich captures her characters in a way that kept me coming back for more. Highly recommend!

Although centred around a murder, Ruskovich's debut novel Idaho (2017) does not revolve around the questions of who might have done it or why; Ruskovich's is much more a book about atmosphere; a collection of first impressions and lost tracks, crossed through by the motif of loss.

In the middle of summer, on a mountain in Idaho, Jenny, a young mother, kills her 6-year-old daughter, May, with a hatchet, while her other daughter, eight-year-old June, runs away deep into the woods. Jenny is then sentenced to life imprisonment, while her husband, Wade Mitchell, the only survivor of this carnage, marries Ann, the local piano teacher.

The story is told from various points of view, in a fragmented way and in non-chronological order, spanning a period of about 50 years. We are thrown back and forth between the character’s multiple perspectives: Ann, as she attempts to piece together the clues about the murder; May, in her final days, as she tries to catch her sister’s attention; June, as she slowly leaves childhood and tries to pull away from her younger sister; Elizabeth, Jenny’s cellmate; Wade, as he recollects his childhood and the early days of his relationship with Jenny; Eliot, a boy June knew from school; and even the dog that was set on June’s trail when she disappeared.

The narrative is held together by Ann’s voice, as she tries to understand the events of that tragic summer day in 1995. When we first meet her, nine years have passed since the murder, and Wade has started to show signs of early-onset dementia. As he slowly loses his memory, Wade suffers from short spells of violence against Ann, as if he were reacting to a phantom pain, a sense of loss he can no longer trace back nor understand.

The strength of the book, for me, lies precisely in the interplay between what is remembered and what is forgotten – and, in-between those two, the interplay between what really happened and what was imagined as a way of filling in the gaps of what was forgotten; the interplay between what happened and what might have happened. As the sole murder witness has started to forget the events, Ann is led to follow his trail of lost memories.

And we already know she is doomed to fail. Ann is the keeper of a past that don’t belong to her; a past that is very much coloured by her imagination, by her obsession for understanding Jenny, and by her persistent sense of guilt. Like Wade’s fleeting memory, Ann’s perception of the murder is also changing and full of gaps, as fragmented as “dozens of blackbirds, startled at nothing.”

Every time she tries to understand the murder – to think the unthinkable, to touch the untouchable heart of Wade’s loss, Ann comes across a void. “Ann sees May, sitting with her hand perfectly still in mid-air, waiting for the fly to trust her so she can kill it, and then there is a black stop in Ann’s mind.” It turns out that, much like Wade’s memory, his loss might also have a hollow heart. “Whatever brought that hatchet down was not a thought or an intention. No, the hatchet caught on the inertia of a feeling already gone.”

The great merit of the book lies in the very fact that Ruskovich refused to fill in this void: there’s no clear light thrown into the events surrounding the murder, and there’s no final redemption. What we cannot speak about we must pass over in silence. The senseless act of random brutality at the novel’s core remains what it is – incomprehensible, senseless, random, brutal, unspeakable – “a feeling already gone.”

The void at the book’s centre is captured perfectly by its tone and atmosphere: a combination of strangeness and familiarity. The severe beauty of Ruskovich's writing reflects that of the landscape in the story – the isolation, the smell of wood and rain, the buzzing flies, the suffocating heat during summer and the snowed-in winters.

However, as much as I appreciate the fact that the author tried to retain the complexity of the events by refusing to explain and resolve them, I cannot help but feel that, by adopting a fragmented narrative – especially in the final chapters, the smallest and sketchier ones –, Ruskovich has done exactly what she had intended not to do in the first place: she has reduced (and thereby avoided) complexity by compressing it to fit in the tiny blocks of your puzzle; she has circumvented the void, instead of crossing it through to the other side; she has cut up the threads as if they were bad roots; she has left a “blot of silent earth across the moment”. Like Elizabeth, who prefers silence over “a failed attempt at saying what she means”.

I have the feeling that some of those threads might turn out to be the seeds that lie in waiting for you in the books to come. As it is, Idaho revolves around a void like a firefly around a lamp – it is beautiful and strange, always on the verge of throwing itself on a bulb of fire, but never quite daring to.

Yours truly,
J.

Read the first 7%. I’d heard a lot of pre-publication buzz about this book, which came out in January, and always meant to get around to it. The problem is likely down to expectations and a surfeit of information: I’d read so many reviews praising this debut author’s poetic prose style, and already knew the basics of the plot. When I finally started reading this, I was underwhelmed by the writing and put off by the husband’s odd behavior, such as shoving his wife’s head down like he does to discipline the dogs he trains. While this is meant to show his decline into early dementia, it didn’t strike me as likely (and nor did her meek acceptance of his punishments). Had I come to this knowing little to nothing about it, perhaps I would have been drawn into the subtle mystery.

5 stars.
A great book! I thoroughly enjoyed this story about Wade, Jenny and their daughters, June and May, the horrific incident that destroys their family, Jenny and Elizabeth in prison, Ann, Wade's piano teacher and second wife, and Eliot.
This novel is told from several points of view and covers the time period between 1973 and 2025, but not in chronological order. Normally this could be confusing and bothersome, but it works perfectly for this story.
Emily Ruskovich's writing is beautiful and her words paint detailed visuals of each setting, and scene, and enable the reader to feel the happiness, hope, hopelessness, anger, fear, frustration, determination, sadness and love experienced by the characters. The characters are well developed in thoughts, appearances, emotions and could easily be recognized at a house party or picnic.
Wade knows that his father and grandfather both had dementia early in life and that he is apt to suffer the same fate. This leads him to the choir teacher at school, Ann, and the piano lessons.
I highly recommend this novel and strongly suggest that you read it when you are not distracted and when you have time to read it carefully, thoughtfully and slowly.
Thanks to my Goodreads friends whom spoke highly of Idaho and thanks to Emily Ruskovich for writing this thought provoking novel.
Thanks to NetGalley and Random House for gifting me a digital ARC of this novel in exchange for an honest review.

Idaho, Emily Ruskovich’s debut novel, covers the rough terrain of the heart

When a young piano teacher marries into a family literally struck by tragedy and her new husband’s early onset dementia begins to rear it’s insidious head, she must decide to face a horrible history and her part in it or lose it forever along with her beloved’s memories. Far-reaching and as beautifully harsh as the mid-western mountain countryside in which it takes place, Idaho is a multi-layered story planted with women and secrets, clues and daughters, sisterhood, the power of music, a physical prison versus a certain prison of the soul, and the book-length tension of grief is only replaced with a gentle sadness at the satisfying end. One expects an equally gorgeous sophomore effort, Ms. Ruskovich. No pressure.

Wendy Ward
http://wendyrward.tumblr.com/

Emily Ruskovich’s IDAHO is haunting, atmospheric, and heartbreaking, yet manages to leave you wanting more of its beauty. Rarely does a book leave me with this persistent feeling of loss upon finishing, but Idaho did. Through beautiful prose, strong character development, and exquisite storytelling, Ruskovich delivers a novel that will stay with you.

Told in multiple points of view in a non-linear way, Ruskovich introduces you to Wade, Jenny, their two daughters, and Ann. Wade is now married to Ann but used to be married to Jenny, who is serving a life sentence for the death of her and Wade’s daughter, May. Years later, Ann is still haunted by the events that lead up to May’s death and their other daughter, June’s, disappearance.

At its heart IDAHO is a story of grief and loss but also about what it means to forgive yourself, redemption, and accepting and giving love. IDAHO reads almost like a mystery novel, this element a faint pulse driving the novel. Ruskovich slowly and methodically reveals what happened that day on the mountain where May died and June disappeared. This one event shattered the lives of all involved and reverberated through people who weren’t even present when it occurred, trickling down over decades and leaving a void in the lives of many.

Part of what makes it so emotionally effective is Ruskovich’s prose. Her writing is striking, each word intentionally chosen to fit the scene and the mood. Additionally, Ruskovich’s storytelling is also noteworthy. The story moves around in time, often switching perspectives, but this was necessary. She reveals pieces of characters’ pasts with an exacting precision and the right time for the story as a whole. It was truly amazing.

It’s hard to put into words how I feel about this book. Part of the awe of this book is the feeling you get upon finishing—a deep loss of these characters’ lives and moments you’ve witnessed as a reader that you want to experience anew.

There is an inherent sadness and loss in Jenny’s character. What made her character arc so effective was the way Ruskovich developed her character through the lens of her cellmate, Elizabeth. It was so brilliant. Even though we enter Jenny’s mind, the reader isn’t left with an answer as to why she did what she did. We can only speculate. I alternated between actually crying and being on the verge of tears when reading the scenes in the prison. Elizabeth and Jenny’s relationship was so deeply moving to me, there’s is relationship born out of the simple act of needing to love and be loved by another person in a cold sterile environment that’s complete void of love.

If you’re a reader who needs to have every question answered—the who, what, when, and most of all the why—then this may not be the novel for you. How May died is answered, but the reader is never given a clear, crisp picture, why it happened or what exactly happened that led to to it. But I don’t think it’s necessary important to the story at all. It’s the fact that it did happen and it is the driving force for the story and these characters.

I recommend this novel without reservation to lovers of character-driven stories, to those who appreciate rich character development, and who delight in feeling moved. The ultimate goal of any writer—I think—is to make their readers feel something. I felt this novel immensely and the ending, while simple, was so full of meaning, heart, and hope.

* Thanks to Penguin Random House Audio for providing me with this audiobook for review.

I received a galley copy of Idaho from NetGalley and the publisher.

There was much to like about this book, but also tremendous frustration with it. First, I looked at the chapter titles, which log the years going from 2004 to 2008 to 1985-1986, 1999, 1973, and at the end 2025, and I could not bring myself to even begin reading it, since I definitely do not enjoy timelines that jump around like this. But when I finally did start it, I was sort of mesmerized by the exquisite writing and drawn into the mystery of a mother who inexplicably murders her daughter on a family outing, causing the other daughter to run away and go missing for all time. So two mysteries actually exist. Two mysteries to solve...or not.
Then just as I was drawn in, I was turned off by more perspectives and timelines being introduced, and more questions than answers. The last several chapters were interminable. I guess if read for a book club, there could be lengthy discussions, analyzing, delving deeply, and sheer guesswork to be had. Instead I sit here very frustrated and not pleased one bit with the ending. 2.5 stars.

A very well-written book that is deceptively quiet yet packs a powerful punch about love, friendship, motherhood, and the search for a life of joy and meaning.

I confess that it was love at first sight when I saw the cover of Emily Ruskovich’s debut, Idaho. There was something about the rich floral artwork that caught my eye. Thankfully the blurb held up, as did the opening page, and fairly soon I was engrossed.

Idaho could be classed loosely as a literary thriller. It tells the story of Ann and Wade who live in a remote mountainside forest in northern Idaho. Ann tries to piece together the truth of what happened to Wade’s first wife, Jenny, and their two young daughters, May and June –

“Because Wade had thrown everything away – drawings, clothes, toys – each accidental remnant loomed in Ann’s mind with unspeakable importance. Four moldy dolls buried in the sawdust of a rotten stump. A high-heeled Barbie shoe that fell from the drainpipe… Artifacts heavy with importance they didn’t deserve, but which they took on because of their frightening scarcity.”

Teasers in the opening chapters pull you in –

“Nine years ago, when Wade was still married to Jenny and both of his daughters were still alive, a mouse crawled along the top of the truck’s exhaust pipe…”

Ruskovich’s distinct writing style is immediately obvious – straightforward yet poetic. I particularly loved her depiction of the relationship between Wade’s daughters, May and June – ‘swimming’ in steel drums, their petty rivalries and playing games of MASH. Her use of analogies – a poetry class in a prison, the way a bloodhound follows a trail – was stunning.

There are some big themes in this book – grief, love, redemption and isolation. The themes are explored in many ways, from the harsh landscape where Ann and Wade live and the significance of Wade’s fading memory to the loss of the girls.

“She thinks of Wade. He has lost his daughters, but he has also lost the memory of losing them. But he has not lost the loss. Pain is as present in his body as his signature is in his hand.”

It’s not a perfect book. Toward the end, Ruskovich introduces a few too many points-of-view. Although some were interesting, I don’t think they added enough to the story to warrant inclusion. The ending was marginally unsatisfying (because truly, there’s no possible answer for what unfolds) but a lot can be forgiven on account of Ruskovich’s fine writing –

“The hornets in the corners buzzed, and outside somewhere, under the clothesline where rose-colored shirts were starched with sunshine, two girls were filling miniature blue teacups with sand.”

“Perhaps it’s what both their hearts have been wanting all along – to be broken. In order to know that they are whole enough to break.”

3.5/5 This story hinges on an unspeakably brutal act and yet Ruskovich writes with such beauty. Compelling stuff.

I received my copy of Idaho from the publisher, Random House, via NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.

Though this book has some gorgeous writing in it I just couldn't finish it. I tried so many times but it was just so bleak and I just couldn't do it. Thanks for the opportunity.

Since I DNF I will not rate or review it on any websites.

When tragedy strikes on a mountain in Idaho in 1995, a family is forever changed.

The book begins in 2004. We meet Ann. Ann is married to Wade. She is his second wife. Wade’s first wife, Jenny is in prison…..for murder. Ann lives with Wade in the same house he lived with his ex-wife, Jenny and their two daughters, June and May.

Ann is sitting in an old truck that is almost never used. She feels like she’s trespassing. She doesn’t like Wade to know she comes up and sits in the truck and reflects on the worst day of her husband’s life. She imagines and wonders. She thinks about the life she would have led if things were different. But one thing she knows for sure…

“I am here because you are not here”

Ann is worried about the changes she has seen in Wade lately, especially in his behavior. Some of his actions are just peculiar and harmless but others are quite scary. For many years she wouldn’t let herself go searching for answers. She wouldn’t ask Wade any questions about it. But all of that has changed now, all is different….

Because now Wade is forgetting.

The story is told from many different perspectives over many years. The chapters are clearly labelled which definitely helps as this story really jumps around from past to present. The story goes all the way back to 1973 and forward all the way to 2025. With the many voices, places, and periods of time there is a lot going on. This tragedy reaches so many people over so many years. It’s a compelling read but also a bit confusing.

This is definitely not a quick read. We are given little bits of information as we get further into the book. Things that happened years before slowly come to light. I found that I had to pay close attention, which was hard as at times as my mind would wander.

Idaho was an extremely though-provoking read. There are many themes throughout this book. I feel sure that if you asked five people what they felt the story was bout you would probably get five different answers.

I think that Emily Ruskovich is a talented writer. But there was so much that I didn’t understand. Perhaps that’s how the author wanted it? In some ways I like how I’m left to speculate and fill in how I feel things happened. However, there’s another part of me that wants answers.

Although this may not have been my favorite read, I did enjoy many parts of it. I know that there are a lot of people who will love this book, many who already do and I understand that. I feel like Idaho will be fantastic for book clubs as there is so much to talk about.

Thank you NetGalley, Emily Ruskovich, and Random House Publishing Group for providing an advanced readers copy of this book for me to read in exchange for my honest review.

A wonderful debut novel. The writing is exquisite, poetic and dreamlike, but clear and not flowery. Idaho is reminiscent of Kent Haruf's books in that it focuses on the internal thoughts of the characters and their everyday lives. It does however have a much stronger sense of suspense as everything revolves around a very unsettling incident. If you enjoy your books with a linear story line, a definite plot and a big resolve at the end, I recommend that you give this one a miss. For me the central theme of memories - hiding from them, creating them (even false ones) and ultimately losing them was intriguing. Especially the descriptions of Wade's descent into early onset dementia will stay with me for a very long time. I fell in love with all her well-drawn complex characters and enjoyed the constant change of point of views and timelines. Another amazing debut author I'll be keeping my eye on. Highly recommended.

As one of the novels I included in my list of top ten 2017 debuts, I'd really been looking forward to reading Idaho; I'd read some great pre-publication comments and a fellow blogger, with whom I share some preferences for reading material, wrote up positive thoughts.

However, approaching the time that I'd planned to read it, I started to hear the rustle of discontent; other reading friends were giving not-so-favorable reports. Many of my trusted reviewers seemed less than delighted and I was hesitant to begin.

After only a short time, I found myself completely captivated by the author's writing; I thought, "how could anyone not appreciate this work?" And then, by around two-thirds of the way into the novel, I understood their discomfort.

"Meaning is like music; it catches and is carried. It returns. Refrains, phrases, the names of passing boats. Stuck in my head, it’s stuck in my head. The way stories fasten themselves to words, words fasten themselves to vulnerable rhythms, impressionable tunes. Ann is skilled in the archaeology of carried music. It holds on like fear, like love."

Idaho is like a slow burn; as a reader, I felt full of lighter fluid and ready for something huge to ignite, but that's not what this story is trying to accomplish. The author takes us along a journey that includes the perspectives of several different characters as we travel through their losses, and there are many. The losses, along with the fact that they reside in the state of Idaho (another character, of sorts, in the novel), are what connect them.

"When you love someone who has died, and her death disappears because you can’t remember it, what you are left with is merely the pain of something unrequited."

It would be helpful, I think, to know that while this novel may start out with the tone of a mystery or thriller, it is more akin to reading poetry; you will likely be left to some of your own interpretation and that may not be your cup of tea. For me, the writing made the novel worth reading because, just as I found myself feeling a little lost, a little empty, Ruskovich would grab me again with one of her powerful passages.

"How easily we come apart. How quickly someone else’s life can enter through the cracks we don’t know are there until this foreign thing is inside of us. We are more porous than we know."

I know I loved this book and yet the oddest thing is I can't precisely explain why. A number of trusted GR friends had already highly rated it yet I couldnt have said what the story was about before I started. Consequently I went in with an open mind and though I fell easily into the story and the way it was told, after reading almost a quarter of the book I still didnt know where it was taking me or what to expect.

The story, told through various voices and seemingly randomly between the 70's through to 2025, was essentially about Wade and his family and yet he played a relatively minor role in the story. Great mystery seemed to surround his family and gradually his backstory trickled out. Throughout the book the author used lots of imagery about memories. Thanks to the progression of early onset dementia Wades memories begin to change and fade completely. Meanwhile, his second wife, Ann feels the burden of learning his past so she can keep those memories of his former family alive.
This book left lots to the imagination, did not provide full closure nor did it neatly tie off all the loose ends. At times that can annoy me yet in this book it seemed perfectly fitting. A lovely, emotion filled story

Many thanks to NetGalley for the electronic copy of this book (which was read and enjoyed) in exchange for an honest review.

This was a quietly intense book that grabbed me immediately. If that intensity had continued right through the last line, it would most definitely have been a 5 Star book.
We learn of a terrible atrocity early in the book. we are spared the minute details, but we are left questioning the why of this act. The author weaves this atrocity throughout the book- it is always in the background , much like an elephant in the room. She follows those people whose lives have been fractured and affected by this act. The story flips from past to present to future. At times, this is a tad annoying and confusing, but mostly it works.
The writing was absolutely beautiful. There was a dream like feel to the book. The story was slow to evolve. The themes explored included love, friendship ,forgiveness, love of nature and music. Also the power of isolation was also an integral part of the story.
I really loved what the author did with the story- she never told the reader all the answers, but there were enough clues throughout that she trusted us to piece them together. This is a book to discuss.. I highly recommend it.