Michelle Webster-Hein’s 'Out of Esau,' set in a dying Midwest town that feels a lot like that of David Rhodes’ 'Driftless' or Stephen Markley’s 'Ohio,' is the most beautiful, dark, gritty, and realistic character study of 2022, and it stands as a towering achievement of the kind of work that a small, independent press can put out into the literary world of today, showcasing the idea that you don’t need a big publisher’s backing to have an incredible novel in your hands.
The premise of 'Out of Esau' is simple enough—through the eyes of five different characters, we spend a couple of months at the end of 1996 watching the happenings of a small, dying town in Michigan, and we follow along as the characters interact with one another and other citizens of Esau during their daily lives. The viewpoints are chosen wisely—Willa is the daughter of Susan and Randy, arguably the main characters of the novel, and we see the story unfold through all three of their eyes. Webster-Hein paints a picture of a painful, abusive marriage between Susan and Randy, and we get their unique individual perspectives on all aspects of the relationship, both from Susan and Randy themselves and their daughter. Willa’s chapters provide a devastating insight into what a child watches when she sees her parents fight and her father abuse both her and her mother, and readers struggle and want to shake her as we see her justify mentally her father’s behavior to herself, forcing us to understand how some kids grow up still loving their abusive parents, albeit difficultly and understanding the duality of doing so. Susan’s and Randy’s viewpoints also offer different sides to the same relationship, and the dueling narratives fully flesh out their characters and the relationship to the point where it seems to be written straight out of a real-life story, the twists and turns and excuses and fights all completely formed and realistic. We also see the story expand through the eyes of Robert, a pastor in his late thirties who’s been in town at the local church for around a full decade, and his mother, Leotie, who, in the first few pages of the novel, shows up on Robert’s doorstep after not seeing him for nearly thirty years, right before the state took him away into protective custody after they deemed her unfit to provide for his wellbeing.
As the novel goes on, Robert and Susan start to slowly fall in love with one another, and this is the main thrust of the small plot that runs throughout the story—the ‘will they, won’t they’ aspect of the story helps to propel it along, and it provides reactions to and from the other characters as they respond to the development of the relationship between the two lost souls, both good and bad. Leotie helps her son see the hole that has formed in both his heart and his faith over the years, and readers watch as he struggles with his faith and his role as the leader of the church where he preaches, especially as he starts to pour over contradictory Bible passages as he writes his weekly sermons and deals with an ineffective and lazy church board that seems to thwart his needs and desires at every chance they get. The story builds to a sudden and jolting climax, and we only learn in the closing pages the ultimate resolution to all five characters’ lives, at least in the present day of the novel, and the ending, which could’ve been ambiguous depending on how Webster-Hein wanted to write it, instead is immensely satisfying, if also a little melancholic.
I want to emphasize that this novel has a very loose plot to it, and that's anything but a bad thing—readers spend the vast majority of the novel getting glances into each character’s past, some more detailed than others, and Webster-Hein introduces warts and all to her readers, every salacious or gratifying personal detail throughout. This helps to form a well-rounded view of each character, and it allows them to jump off the page—I felt like I knew these characters in real life by the time I was done reading the novel, and I found myself wanting to scream and shake and congratulate the characters at various times throughout, all because I cared about them. And it’s that distinct lack of a larger plot that makes the novel so fascinating—by being, essentially, a character study of several different people, the novel allows you to dive more into the world of the story and feel like you could live next door to each and every one of these people. The little world-building details that Webster-Hein provides as well, including setting it in 1996 and making the time of the year (it’s basically told from October 1996-January 1997) a character in and of itself, add even more depth to the novel as a whole, and you don’t even realize there’s basically no plot throughout most of it because you’re too interested in seeing the interactions between the many characters as the chapters unspool.
Speaking of chapters—each one is rather short, usually between five and ten pages, and this allows the story to both flow languidly from one place to the next, the pacing of it almost perfect, and give the novel itself a sense of urgency underneath all of its words, propelling readers forward when the action on the page seems to ebb and flow from chapter to chapter. By only spending a few pages within each character’s head at a time, it helps to create a vague sense of unease and hurriedness that adds to the urgency of the crisis that builds as time goes on between the five characters, and it allows readers to spend just enough time to get an opinion on each character before shifting gears and hearing about the same events from another perspective.
This book is dark—as previously mentioned, it deals with an abusive relationship, and Webster-Hein does a beautiful job of painting why some people choose to/have to stay in an abusive relationship. No one wants to be abused by the one they love, physically or emotionally or mentally, and a lot of times, people who aren’t in the relationship don’t understand why people would stay with a partner who abuses them. The relationship that unravels on the page between Susan and Randy is so well-written, so realistic, and so painful that I struggle to say that it’s not the most realistic relationship I’ve read in a novel over the past year at least. We watch as Susan torments herself into both forgiving her abusive husband and wanting to leave him immediately, and we see her also considering the life she could have with Robert and what it does to her faith. Webster-Hein handles the details of abuse very delicately as well, and they are neither over-the-top nor overwritten, giving an even bigger sense of realism to the entire thing.
I, personally, was also nervous to read this based on the description—I was worried this was going to be a story that justified/celebrated Christianity, something I struggled with for years before finally extricating myself from the Church, but this is the exact opposite. Webster-Hein spells out in perfect language the hypocrisy of many modern-day Christians, especially those in small town America, and how they hold everyone but themselves to a set of Biblical standards that are both unrealistic and outdated in today’s world. We watch as both Robert and Susan struggle with their faith, their calling in life, and the idea of God in general, and the subtle ways that Webster-Hein herself calls out the contradictions of Christian faith and scripture, especially those found in the story of Jacob and Esau, are incredible and mortifying at the same time. The author paints a picture here of a crisis of faith that could be expanded to the world at large today, and she does so by distilling it into the thoughts and actions of just a few characters in a dying Michigan town. Many authors would stumble and struggle to do so without it seeming stuffed down readers’ throats, but Webster-Hein perfectly walks that line and creates a story that shows the hidden dualities of the Christian faith while not shaming the faith itself at large.
If you want to read one of the best novels of 2022, please pick this book up. It’s the most beautiful character study I’ve read in a while, and I sincerely hope Webster-Hein might write a sequel in the future that shows the characters in the present-day. I savored the time I spent with the characters in Esau, Michigan, and it helped that I read this in November, the same time as much of the story itself. You can read it anytime, however, and just imagine in your mind the cold, grey landscape that surrounds the characters in the novel as they contemplate their places in life. An absolutely incredible debut novel, this marks the beginning of what has to be a long and fruitful career for Webster-Hein and her incredible storytelling abilities.
Thanks to NetGalley, Counterpoint Press, and Michelle Webster-Hein for the digital ARC of 'Out of Esau' in exchange for an honest review.