Grace Spilled Down: A Review of So Brave, Young, and Handsome

image from a Charlie Siringo book illustration

I picked up So Brave, Young, and Handsome, the second novel by Leif Enger, after thoroughly enjoying his debut work, Peace Like a River. To put it simply: this is a worthy successor, though it doesn’t quite reach the heights of his first book.

The Story

Monte Becket, a former postal worker, struck gold with his first novel—a dimestore western that found success with an undemanding audience. But lightning hasn’t struck twice. Despite his best efforts, he can’t interest his publisher in anything new. Fortunately, royalties from that first book continue to trickle in, allowing him to buy a pleasant home by the river and live a peaceful life.

It’s there that Monte meets Glendon Hale, a fascinating stranger sailing a homemade boat downriver. Enger describes Glendon as “formal in the way of men grown apart, yet energy teemed behind his eyes and in some ways he seemed a boy himself” (p. 11). This intriguing man quickly captivates not just Monte, but his wife Susannah and young son as well.

Meanwhile, Monte is hiding his latest of many literary failures from his family. His heroic cowboy character, Dan Roscoe, has been abandoned. His new pirate novel is already showing “signs of decay” at just forty pages (p. 22).

Then comes an unlikely invitation: Glendon asks Monte to accompany him to Mexico so he can apologize to the wife he suddenly abandoned in his youth. Despite the apparent foolishness of such a journey, Susannah somehow knows that Monte needs this adventure and encourages him to go.

The Journey

What follows is a winding odyssey by boat, train, car, and train again—sometimes making little logical sense. The journey grows more complicated when we learn that Glendon has quite a past: he was once part of the infamous “Hole in the Wall” gang in Wyoming, alongside Butch Cassidy.

At times, you want to shout at Monte to just go home, for God’s sake. But something keeps him going—perhaps the fear of returning to his failures, or recognition that this strange pursuit is exactly what his soul needs. As Monte humbly observes: “I was used to resembling what I was—a well-meaning failure, a pallid disappointer of persons, a man fading” (p. 76).

Complicating matters further is Charlie Siringo, a rascally Pinkerton detective (and fellow author) devoted to capturing Glendon. (Fans of Larry McMurtry’s Streets of Laredo will recognize Siringo’s name—Captain Woodrow Call dismissed his book as “mostly yarns.”)

What Works

The writing is beautiful, echoing the lyrical style of Peace Like a River. Enger has a remarkable gift for seeing truth in his characters without being put off by their surface flaws.

On an enthusiastic and capable young man who lies to save Glendon from Siringo: “Hood was the purest liar I ever knew. He lied for profit as many do but he also lied for joy, which is less common—it may even be he lied for beauty, by some deeply buried rationale” (p. 96).

On an aging circus sharpshooter with a wild past: When Monte suggests she should “start thinking about her next act,” Glendon wisely responds, “Maybe she’s tried that, Monte. Maybe she don’t have a next act in her” (p. 115).

This small selection of a great many moments of insight are where Enger truly shines.

What Falls Short

While the prose remains gorgeous, the characters don’t quite achieve the luminous quality of those in Peace Like a River. Enger’s penchant for foreshadowing continues, but he’s largely abandoned the magical realism that gave his first novel such distinctive charm. Monte’s many choices to dive deeper into the madness taking him further from Susannah seem quite far-fetched.

The Resolution

Eventually, we see resolution for Siringo, Glendon, and Monte. Monte finally admits to Susannah that his writing days may be finished, humbly confessing “I am very much less than I once believed.” But Susannah shows him extraordinary grace—she was simply waiting for him to find his place.

In one of the book’s most moving passages, Monte reflects on his transformation:

“You are also different,” she said. I didn’t try to explain that. You can’t explain grace, anyway, especially when it arrives almost despite yourself. I didn’t even ask for it, yet somehow it breached and began to work. I suppose grace was pouring over Glendon, who had sought it so hard, and some spilled down on me. Susannah said, “You seemed afraid before you left. Now you don’t—that’s what I think.” (p. 271)

Final Verdict

So Brave, Young, and Handsome is a thoughtful meditation on failure, grace, and redemption. While it may not surpass Enger’s debut, it’s still a rewarding read that showcases his considerable talents as a storyteller. Recommended for fans of literary westerns and anyone who appreciates beautiful prose in service of meaningful themes.

Rating: 4/5 stars

A Miraculous Journey: Reviewing “Peace Like a River” by Leif Enger

Peace like a River cover art

This morning I finished reading Peace Like a River, the debut novel by Leif Enger. While he has written plenty since then, I find it quite notable that this is his first published work. The most important thing I can say about this novel (other than that I recommend it wholeheartedly!) is that it is truly beautiful. Enger’s prose is both gorgeous and reserved. He employs metaphors and foreshadowing with masterful precision. When you reach the novel’s conclusion, there’s a bittersweet sadness at finishing, but also a profound revelation—suddenly all those literary devices click into place with perfect clarity.

As a writer myself, I must admit that reading this book fills me with both inspiration and a touch of envy for my own inability to craft a story of such depth and beauty.

The Story and Its Heart

Reuben Land serves as our narrator and, as it turns out, embodies the very soul of the story. His life begins with a miracle: born nearly dead, he survives only when his father Jeremiah holds the “clay child wrapped in a canvas coat” and commands in a steady voice, “Reuben Land, in the name of the living God I am telling you to breathe.”

Breathe Reuben does, but throughout the story he never breathes easily, severely hampered by asthma. His father Jeremiah becomes his hero, and as Reuben notes with characteristic insight: “there’s nothing as lovely and tragic as telling your friends you were just about dead once.”

Miracles Woven into Reality

Miracles occur throughout this novel in ways that seem deceptively simple and completely believable. This brings Gabriel García Márquez to mind, but Enger’s magical realism springs from the Gospel and prayer rather than from magic. These extraordinary events arrive in ways our postmodern minds can accept without question. As Enger reminds us: “Such things are worth our notice every day of the week, but to call them miracles evaporates the strength of the word.”

Characters Grounded in Grace and Truth

The characters populating this novel are strong prairie stock who never seek to impress or manipulate. The Methodist pastor, faithful and loyal, “was a great advocate of forgiveness, in which he put a lot of stock. Thrilling he was not.” Throughout the story, we detect a common thread of grace and truth—elements that cannot be easily separated from one another. Reuben’s precocious younger sister Swede, already an incredible wordsmith and writer, observes that “once torched by truth, a little thing like faith is easy.”

The Central Conflict

The Land family faces a bitter crisis created by their eldest son, Davy—incredibly capable but seemingly bereft of grace, his tragic, truth-seeking act of revenge poisons their lives. Jeremiah leaves his job and takes the family west in an inherited Airstream trailer, hoping to find Davy and, hopefully, bring him to repentance.

Davy’s fundamental problem becomes clear: “Davy wanted life to be something you did on your own; the whole idea of a protective, fatherly God annoyed him. I would understand this better in years to come but never subscribe to it, for I was weak and knew it.”

This confident self-reliance leads Davy through increasingly dangerous circumstances. His competence provides some protection, but forces him to live as a fugitive. The central question becomes: Will Davy ever accept grace?

The Journey West

Meanwhile, others who deserve nothing good experience mercy through Jeremiah’s hands. When the evil school superintendent who despises Jeremiah receives miraculous healing from horrible facial sores through Jeremiah’s gracious touch, Reuben struggles mightily with the apparent unfairness: “It was the fact that Chester the Fester, the worst man I’d ever seen… got a whole new face to look out of and didn’t even know to be grateful; while I, my father’s son, had to be still and resolute and breathe steam to stay alive.”

This gives us insight into Reuben’s heart—his breathing struggles dominate his existence and serve as an overarching metaphor for his spiritual condition, though he doesn’t understand this until much later.

Finding Refuge and Family

The Land family (Jeremiah, Reuben, and Swede) eventually reach the badlands of North Dakota, their Plymouth limping along while towing the Airstream. A powerful hand seems to guide them—one that communicates frequently and effectively with Jeremiah. Great miracles occur, perhaps the greatest being their forced refuge during a massive snowstorm in the home of Roxanna, a lonely woman on the wilderness fringe.

Roxanna experiences transformation through Jeremiah’s presence, and the children quickly see in her the mother they lost when their own inexplicably abandoned them. Though Davy remains at large, the family experiences stability and learns to find peace in the joy of order and purpose.

The Crisis of Faith

But eventually, Reuben reaches a dreadful realization: “Since arriving at this house, we’d had no miracles whatever.” He reflects on their journey and concludes: “And I thought, Without a miracle, exactly what chance do I have?”

Here readers realize that Reuben views miracles as cheat codes for his own life, failing to see how they’re actually preparing him to live and see differently.

Growth and Understanding

Reuben slowly learns to value prayer, growing into his father’s example, and realizes his need for repentance regarding harbored hatreds. Through painful circumstances of his own making, he confronts his serious shortcomings. A local sheriff “earnestly told me five or six specific things he found discouraging about my character. If you don’t mind I’d rather not restate them, but they were by and large true… I agreed with them all, as the broken must.”

Eventually, Reuben stops “whining about what’s fair, begging forgiveness, hoping for a miracle—these demand energy, and that was gone from me. Contentment on the other hand demands little, and I drew more and more into its circle.”

At last, Reuben learns that “fair is whatever God wants to do.”

A Powerful Conclusion

The story’s ending proves wonderful, featuring a powerful twist reminiscent of great self-sacrifice tales from literature’s past. Without spoiling the conclusion, I’ll say that in the distant years following these dramatic events, we see Reuben explaining to his still-elusive brother Davy what their father had done for him. When Davy challenges him to “Breathe… Let’s see you breathe,” we realize the incredible distance Reuben has traveled.

Despite experiencing great physical damage and displaying moments of cowardice and betrayal, Reuben has learned grace’s proper place as truth’s partner and has found repentance. His breath has been restored through great sacrifice, and he now possesses true life. The greatest miracle of all has occurred—but it happened slowly and collectively.

Final Thoughts

In my humble opinion, Peace Like a River stands as a modern masterpiece of American literature, weaving together themes of faith, family, sacrifice, and redemption with prose that feels truly joyful. Enger has crafted a story that operates on multiple levels—as a coming-of-age tale, a family drama, and a profound meditation on the nature of miracles and grace. This is a novel that rewards careful reading and stays with you long after the final page.

Have you read “Peace Like a River”? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments below.