Anna Hogeland's Wild Aster concludes with a scene of such peace, readers may almost forget the turmoil that has preceded it: the protagonist, Mae, watches a mother and young daughter playing and realizes all at once that her life, "which felt so heavy just a short time earlier, now felt like nothing she had to carry at all. This moment was her whole life." But the Mae who is able to experience that quiet resolution is made up of all the previous moments, all those other Maes, the ones who make up the fierce backbone of this insistent, intelligent, and profoundly relatable novel.
Wild Aster spans decades, starting in 1910 when Mae's mother, Ida, is still a girl on the family farm, already a talented artist at 16 despite having no formal training. Ida is resolute, perhaps even callous, in search of knowledge and experience, especially the kind she coaxes from her young neighbor Theodor; when their ignorance results in an unplanned pregnancy, Ida's family decides she will give the baby to an aunt who is unable to bear a child. Ida has no desire to be a mother, but when circumstances reveal the truth--and the danger--of this situation, Ida takes the baby and flees. Fifteen years later, Ida and Mae are still running, constantly on the move and constantly together. Then, in a blink, Mae is forced into a life on her own, and though she is terrified, she must carry on and decide what's next: "The power felt heavy, but she could hold it. There was no other choice."
In the years to follow, Mae feels that same power, the same fear that makes her cry out "I can't," and in response, she hears the words of her mother and grandmother before her: "Become a woman who can. You already are. You're doing it right now." Over and over, Mae must become, in the face of poverty and instability, grief and loss, a woman who can. Although Hogeland (The Long Answer) draws Mae in sharp lines, she also writes movingly of her strength and resolute commitment to building a life she believes in. Ultimately, despite all the elements of life that are out of her control, Mae exerts a quiet authority, and her refusal to shrink or become a false version of herself makes her--and Wild Aster--a triumph. --Sara Beth West, freelance reviewer and librarian
Shelf Talker: Anna Hogeland's Wild Aster is a novel that quietly insists on the power of choosing the life you want to live, even in the face of pain, loss, and a world that argues that you can't.