Keturah and Lord Death by Martine Leavitt

I do love this cover -- one of my favorite paintings: Il bacio (The Kiss) by Francesco Hayez (1859).
So striking and iconic.

"For most of her sixteen years, beautiful Keturah Reeves has mesmerized the villagers with her gift for storytelling. But when she becomes hopelessly lost in the king’s forest, her strength all but diminished, she must spin the most important tale of [her] life. With her fate hanging in the balance, she charms Death himself—a handsome, melancholy, and stern lord—with a story of a love so true that he agrees to give her a one-day reprieve. Now, she must find her true love in the next twenty-four hours, or else all will be lost.

Keturah searches desperately while her village prepares for an unexpected visit from the king. But Lord Death’s presence is never far, hovering over all as mysterious happenings start to alarm her friends and neighbors. If she is to save her soul and the souls of the people she adores, Keturah must confront Lord Death one last time..." (summary from Amazon)

I was gifted this book years ago and have tried to read it again and again (and again). To date, I was never able to get more than a few pages in. (The writing can be slightly rough in places.) This time around, I'm working on some serious decluttering and wanted to be able to do a good evaluation for future reference, so decided on the Mama-vetting-speed-read-approach. ;) And in the past I haven't wanted to necessarily do a negative review, but (also now having Mama Eyes) I saw certain things which I thought worth warning other parents about -- especially as I was able to find my main concern mentioned in only one other (two star) review on Goodreads.

Couple random points, before we tackle the main issue:  

#1 -- Our main character, Keturah, is literally evaluating every boy she meets to determine if he is her One True Love and also trying to fall in love (complex subjects; and we are made to love, so not shying away from discussing either point when raising our children, it's all just really hammered on in here).

#2 -- Quoting from the grandmother, "It is all of a one, my dear, all of a one. There's that baby who is loved, and then one day he loves so as to make another baby. Wear our souls out in love, we do, or looking for it. ...Now I will tell you a true thing, child, and if you are wise you will remember it. The soul, it longs for its mate as much as the body. Sad it is that the body be greedier than the soul. But if you would be happy all your days, as I was with your grandfather, subdue the body and marry the soul. Look for a soul-and-heart love." Discussion for another day -- and character is always the primary thing, when evaluating a potential spouse -- but it's actually unbiblical, the pitting of body and soul against one another.

My main issue

The story is kind of a combination of 1001 Nights, Schubert's Death and the Maiden, and the myth of Hades and Persephone. Part of the problem with K&LD is that (unlike with Persephone), Keturah, after initial fear and hesitation, pursues her fate; and we also don't see any great sorrow come of her choice afterwards (unlike the deep and raging grief of Demeter after her daughter is kidnapped by Hades). (And I think we mess with that aspect of the story at our peril.) Instead, it's a pretty entirely happy ending, and Keturah has apparently found her one true love.  

Granted, I've never really been into gothic culture, but I think all the following is still valid.

Keturah has a very conversational friendship status with Lord Death (often thinking about him and his relationship with other people as well). It's written in a fantastical style, of course, so I'm trying to sort out the symbolism a bit mentally... God is mentioned, but that itself, within the fantasy framework, is honestly unsettling to me and another cause for concern. The story is really rooted in our world (not a world of complete metaphor), but then has no discussion of our Lord's claim upon us. Lord Death here is tall and dark, handsome, cold yet with deep desires, mysteriously romantic, intrepid, breathtaking, powerful, poetic, fearful and beautiful. But the truth is, Christ owns us body and soul. Christ holds the keys of Hades and of Death. We lay down our lives in service to Him and Him alone, and He will call His servants home to Himself when their days and service here are fulfilled. And beyond death is life everlasting. But, with this paradigm, we have absolutely no right to be pursuing Lord Death. There are a few quotes that I don't want to share for general consumption, but in short, contrary to what this book says, our time (and the means of that time) are not our own to choose. 

I'm an ardent fan of poetic metaphors and myth: powerful storytelling tools which because they're so subconsciously compelling, by definition automatically raise the stakes. It's part of why I consider stories using them to be so valuable, but also why they can be so potently dangerous.

To return to the storyline of Keturah falling in love with Lord Death. It is true that the heart of the wise is in the house of mourning (Ecclesiastes 7:4). Additionally, we do live in a place of tension, where death is a part of the curse, but at the same time it's a mysterious mercy of God, an end to this life of sin and temptation. Also, those who know how to die well know how to live well and vice versa, the two are tied together. 

So I'm not against the deep poetry of the situation (i.e. the concept that only when we properly contemplate and meditate on death do we know what it is to be truly alive -- explored also in one of my top favorites of all time, G.K. Chesterton's Manalive). And this aspect of it is typified in one rather poetic quote near the end of K&LD: 

"In fall, she knew it was Death who sweetened the apples. He made her see the sun in a blue sky and hear the trees in a spring wind. He made her see how much she loved her friends, for all their trouble, and how much her grandmother loved her, and oh, he made her love the breath in her lungs.

"She knew she had never been truly alive until she met him, and never so happy and content with her lot until she was touched by the sorrow of him."

"He lifted his hand as if he would take mine, and then he did not. "Keturah..." He dropped his arm.

"You, my lord, are the ending of all true stories."

The problem is that Keturah doesn't go on to live here, she dies (with the assumption being that she will abide in his realm): explicitly laying down her life and all her future (very particularly the home and children she will never have) for the love of Lord Death. And these last pages are also some of the most well written in the entire story, which makes them very emotionally charged; also why I don't want to type it all here. There are also descriptions of how death feels, i.e. apparently very gentle and normal and like the sunrise (which last image somehow reminds me of Lewis, so I actually rather like that one, but again, the story as a whole just isn't removed far enough into the realm of fantasy for me to be comfortable with it). 

Final thoughts

Reading the author's note, I'm very empathetic for the personal grief she experienced and from which this story grew. I've known similar loss in my own life (which, perhaps, makes me feel all of this all the more vividly and critically). I know how much such a tragedy shapes your entire self and experience of the world. I get it. Deeply. 

But, but, in a world with depression and confusion running rampant and young people tempted to rash acts etc., and with its writing level geared for an early teen, this book seems highly risky and, as parents, we have every right to be careful. 

I can also see how some books are specifically written to aid in grief counseling (which this is not advertised as), but even then, if I was helping counsel a young person through a real, close loss -- facing the pain and wrongness and senseless feel of death -- they would need to be pointed to the Only One who can truly comfort them.  The Only One who is true comfort. The One to whom they belong, and who holds them and all their days -- and those of their loved ones -- in the hollow of His hand.

So yes... that's about all my thoughts on it at the moment.

As for the rest (i.e. an energetic narrative on how contemplating death opens our eyes to fully living), I think we'll stick with Chesterton's Manalive.

(And no offense if you've read and loved this book! It definitely brought up lots of food for thought and I'd love to discuss it if you want to. :))