Review: The Lifters

I heard about The Lifters from an NPR interview with author Dave Eggers back in 2018.

It tells the story of a boy named Gran (short from Granite) who moves with his family to a small town named Carousel. At some point in the past, a factory in Carousel manufactured merry-go-round horses. However, hardly anyone remembers that, and the town's best days seem to be behind it.

The residents of Carousel seem to suffer from a general malaise as well. No one seems at all interested in Gran's arrival; everyone completely ignores him, except for fellow misfit Catalina. Gran notices Catalina regularly disappears from class, not to be seen for the rest of the day, and takes an interest in her.

Eventually, Gran and Catalina team up to resist the supernatural force that is feeding off the town's sense of despair. As building after building collapses into sinkholes, they work to prop up (or "lift") the town.

There were several things I like about this book. First, Gran's family has very familiar dynamics. The mother is disabled, Gran can remember a time long ago when she wasn't. Gran's father - a mechanic -- is unreliably employed, and is frequently out-of-town. The family suffers from money problems, which weigh heavily on the parents, and therefore the kids, too. Those things spoke to me.

I'm partially disabled now, but my children remember a time when I wasn't. I also remember a time in high school when my dad had to leave us for a job in a distant place. Within the past two years, I myself have had employment instability and money limitations. And I've lived in economically depressed areas where many of the people around us were also experiencing hardship.

Yet despite all their hardships, Gran's family members love each other deeply. "Gran liked nothing better in the world that to hear his sister's voice awed. It gave him immeasurable strength for reasons he did not know." And "Two years ago, when Gran had asked for a watch, his father had given him this one... On the back, Gran's father had engraved 'Granite, my rock. Love, Dad."

Reading tearjerky stuff like that made the book almost "not safe for work" for me.

Second, I liked the many lessons sprinkled throughout the book, like this one about cognitive dissonance: "When we see something that so conflicts with our everyday expectations of the world, sometimes our brains find a way to explain it away, or even to forget it."

Regarding integrity: "A promise is like the earth underneath us. It must be solid. How can we walk, and run, and live and laugh, when we can't count on the ground beneath us? And so it is with promises. They keep us upright. They hold up everyone and everything."

And trust: "when someone asks you if you trust them, it usually means they're about to do something that will make you reassess that trust."

And courage: "Bravery has its limits. Bravery sometimes needs a rest."

Third, I liked the way the book addressed real problems young people face. When Gran describes his parents' arguments to one of his teachers, talking about how he and his sister would escape the house and throw sticks in a nearby river for an hour or so until things calmed down, there are no platitudes - only understanding and empathy. "I know that at your age, you can feel powerless," the teacher replies. "And the powerlessness can make you angry."

Yet my favorite part is a conversation in chapter 86, when Catalina tells Gran why she didn't think he should be a Lifter. "It's a calling," she'd said earlier - not something one applies for. Initially, she didn't think he had what it takes.

Catalina explains:

"Because to be a Lifter, you have to be serious, and you have to be brave, and just as importantly, you have to know sadness."

"Why?" Gran said. He was intrigued.

"Because sadness is duty....if you know sadness, you understand sadness in others. And if you can understand sadness in others, you're obligated to help....If you know sadness, you want to help lessen it," she explained. "Improve things. Brighten the days. Lift people up. You know?"

It's that sense of duty -- fueled by empathy, and built on a foundation of sadness -- that makes the world a better place. And that's a powerfully hopeful message.