It's terrifying to consider how a person can lose everything in an instant. Not only that but the people closest to us might be hiding terrible secrets. No one should live in paranoia, but it's sobering to contemplate how resilient you might be if the worst were to happen. “Sweet Vidalia” begins with an arresting moment of crisis for Eliza, a middle-aged woman in 1960s Texas. She's been married for three decades and has two adult children. Her world isn't only turned upside down but inside out as she suddenly finds herself on the brink of destitution and must start over again at this unusual stage of life. Eliza seeks to get a business education and job while moving into a motel called Sweet Vidalia with her old dog. There she encounters a number of curious individuals and forms new connections. The grinding indignity and humility of her situation is tempered by a tonally-light and humour-leaning narrative. However, this book doesn't shy away from the emotional shock or physical challenges of Eliza's situation. There's a serious impediment preventing her from accessing the few assets she still possesses, she suffers from arthritis in her hands and her children don't have enough resources to support her. Nevertheless, she discovers opportunities in the most unexpected places.
The wide range of characters that Eliza meets are interesting, but the novel comes to feel a little too cluttered with all their stories. Many of them have their own idiosyncrasies which are touched upon such as a man who feels closer to dogs than people, a strong-willed artistically-gifted classmate and a gay man who struggles to find employment in clerical roles usually taken by women. However, many of their lives never come to feel entirely filled out. But Eliza herself is a sensitive and empathetic character whose complexity beautifully deepens over the course of the story as she discovers an inner strength and talents that she never previously knew she possessed. At one point she reflects “Nobody now on earth, including my children, knows who I am. Not a wife, a mother whose kids are grown, with no neighborhood friend, no job to tell me what I am. Just a kind of in-between person who lives in a temporary place with people who live near her temporarily.” This sudden sense of anonymity may crush some people. But it's heartening how in this desperate situation Eliza learns to envision a new sense of self that's free from the expectations of those she's lived amongst for her entire life and establish her autonomy. I also found it touching how she recalls her own parents' economic struggles when she was young and feels a new connection with them because of her own plight. These factors mean that the novel comes to feel hopeful even amidst such a dire situation caused by a terrible betrayal.
Lisa Sandlin's writing has understandably been compared to that of Anne Tyler and Elizabeth Strout. Like these wonderful authors, her fiction is a pleasure to read with its naturally flowing prose which are layered with great depths of emotion.
