Review: "Evensong," Stewart O'Nan

By Liz Soares

Set in a lovingly described Pittsburgh, Evensong quietly follows the lives of four friends: Emily, her sister-in-law Arlene, and Kitzi are all in their late eighties; Suzie, the youngest at sixty-three, is newly divorced. Together they belong to the "Humpty-Dumpty Club" -- older people watching out for one another, patching up life's woes as best they can.

 

When Joan, the indomitable and unofficial leader of the group, falls down the stairs and breaks both a leg and an arm, the balance shifts. Almost by default, Kitzi becomes the point person. From there the novel unfolds in short, episodic chapters told from alternating viewpoints, almost like linked short stories.

Each woman carries her own burdens. Emily struggles with a complicated family history, particularly her relationship with her daughter Margaret, a recovering alcoholic. Kitzi is caring for her husband Martin, whose heart problems loom ominously, even as she becomes entangled in helping Jean and Gene, retired music professors living in a hoarding situation—complete with dozens of cats. Arlene’s memory is slipping in unsettling ways. Suzie, dealing with chronic back pain, leans a little too heavily on painkillers while experimenting with online dating.

Pittsburgh itself feels like a fully realized character, as does Calvary Episcopal Church. The women are deeply involved in the life of the parish, especially its rich ecclesiastical music tradition. Suzie is the only one still performing, but the shared rituals of worship and music give the novel its title and its emotional architecture. Evensong becomes both a time of day and a metaphor for this late chapter of life—a moment of gathering, reflection, and grace.

O’Nan is particularly strong with everyday realism and telling detail. There are laugh-out-loud moments that feel absolutely earned, like Suzie caring for Joan’s aloof cat, Oscar, who initially runs off but later accepts friendship. Then Oscar gets sick from the seaweed treats in a Trader Joe’s Advent calendar for cats that Suzie has purchased for him. Arlene’s uneasy experience dog-sitting Emily’s puppy, Angus, rings true. Kitzi, preparing lunch for Martin, surveys his turkey bacon, soy mayo, and keto bread sandwich with quiet chagrin. It’s all “fake” food. These small observations resonate with the reader.

One especially memorable chapter shows all the characters reacting, from their different vantage points, to a blimp flying overhead to promote a Steelers game—a lovely demonstration of how shared experience can crack beautifully, like a kaleidoscope, into individual meaning.

The novel spans fall through the holidays, and the preparations, minor triumphs, and inevitable disappointments of that season are handled with warmth and restraint. I enjoyed spending time with these characters and found their situations deeply recognizable.

My one hesitation is age. In my experience, many of these challenges—serious physical decline, caregiving strain, cognitive slippage—often begin earlier, in the early eighties. At eighty-eight, should these characters still be driving? O’Nan seems quietly aware of this question; Suzie frequently offers rides, perhaps a subtle acknowledgment of the issue.

Still, Evensong succeeds because it neither sentimentalizes nor dramatizes aging. And it ends beautifully, with a sense of communal endurance rather than tidy resolution.

This is a thoughtful, humane novel—one that made me laugh, nod in recognition, and linger on its final, resonant chord.