Ordinarily, I rarely source a book after seeing the movie it inspired. There’s something about forming the characters in my own imagination from scratch. Once the movie has been seen, the characters may be etched into place. Still, having watched a random movie on TV starring Jane Fonda and Robert Redford, I broke my own rule and bought a copy of the original novella, of the same name, “Our Souls at Night”. Of course, the Netflix version starring two Hollywood legends was really good and, as it turned out, followed the author’s story very closely. Still, I’m pleased to report that there is real depth to the late Kent Haruf’s final book, which dredges pathos from the reader and seeks to challenge the notion of older people becoming asexual, or content to remain unhappy in their often socially-constructed isolation. It was a moving experience.
Far from being a sordid secret, the unusual relationship between the main characters (Addie and Louis) was in fact beautifully drawn and the purity of their companionship made the way it was ultimately compromised all the more cruel. The dislike I experienced for the couple’s respective children and their uninvited interference, glowered over the page, every bit as intensely as for the screen. Yet, the author still managed a final twist to salvage the reader’s satisfaction.
Not a traditionally romantic story perhaps, but certainly one unashamedly about ‘love’ and a glorious epitaph to a gifted writer. I shall be seeking out other titles by Mr Haruf.
