Often, the loss of a child is inexplicable: words aren't able to properly portray the devastation, the mourning and the attempts to recover from tragedy. Expanding from a story originally published in the New Yorker, Vessels tries to navigate this inexplicable heartbreak, knowing that the tragedies at its center can never truly be depicted. Daniel Raeburn's memoir is one long elegy, a reminiscence whose central theme is grief.
Vessels begins, as the subtitle says, as a love story. Daniel meets Bekah, a former potter, with whom he instantly feels a connection. They grow closer, finally moving in together, getting pregnant and becoming engaged. But Bekah miscarries, and so begins their years of pain as they continue trying to become parents. As a major event in their story, the stillbirth of their second child comes relatively early, and Vessels plumbs the aftermath. Daniel and Bekah try again, succeeding with the birth of their first daughter before yet another loss. There's little levity in his memoir, but Raeburn manages to keep it from becoming burdensome with a quick pace and dream-like tone.
For all its tragedy, Vessels never feels overly dramatic. In fact, that may be its biggest weakness. Many scenes are vaguely rendered, and most characters go unnamed. Raeburn appears to prefer outlining events instead of exploring their depths, and this reticence can harm the narrative (the loss of a dear friend, for instance, feels paper thin when it should be devastating). Mostly, though, Vessels manages to convey its author's heartbreak as best as words can. That's a quite a feat. --Noah Cruickshank, marketing manager, Open Books, Chicago, Ill.