Traveler by Ron McLarty

Whenever I truly want to enjoy a book, I take a few hours at Stella's. For roughly the last 7 years, I have found refuge in a specific corner there. This corner allows for the perfect blend of white noise from other patrons and the solitude that a book provides. There is a glorious high-backed wicker chair with a worn out velvety golden colored corduroy covered cushion. (Not unlike the glorious orange corduroy pants I'm wearing tonight.) They took the chair away, but I still frequent the haus.

All of that to say, this was a book that I took to Stella's. The couches were all taken, so I read in a hard-backed chair at a table, then sat outside on the patio by the fire. Any which way, this book merited some solid time. Not that it was a hard read, but that I found myself so engaged that I wanted to retreat with it. McLarty's first book, The Memory of Running, was the same way. He's not a phenomenal writer, just a true one. His words and characters stick with you, strike you as authentic and allow just enough of themselves to make you feel a part of them.

This book takes place partially in New York City, where the main character lives, and in Rhode Island, where Jono Riley grew up. (It should be noted that any book set in the Northeast has an unfair advantage, as I'm smitten by the idea of the area.) The book opens with Jono receiving a letter that one of his childhood friends has passed away. Having not returned to his hometown in some years, the story unfolds through alternating chapters of present and past.

With the backdrop of 1950s New England, there are stereotypes and prejudices addressed as we travel through a coincidentally familiar and foreign America. Names like Cubby, Big Tony, Mary Agnes and Bobby quickly quickly demonstrate that at this time, whether you were Italian or Irish, Catholic or not, it made a difference in Riverside Terrace.

McLarty uses elements of mystery to weave a story that reminds us that we're all still tied to our upbringing, regardless of how far down we try to repress those experiences or how far away we travel.