It's been a long time since I cried for the sole reason that a book was over. Simply because I could have kept reading it forever. I cried because I can't read it for the first time, ever again. I do want to reread it at some point, certainly.

This book is literature at its best. Rich without being stuffy. Wordy without being grandiloquent. Slow without dragging. Dramatic without flair. 

How we all cringe now at the phrase, "strong female character." Helen and Ester are the types of female characters this old tired phrase was meant to describe. They give that descriptor new life.

One is a 64-year-old college professor on the verge of forced retirement, living with a debilitating illness in the year 2000. In 1665, we have the other: a young woman who has lost everything, and is willing to pay the required price just to think, read, and write. 

Neither are flashy. Neither lead throngs of followers, defying all conventions of their society. Neither are loud or brazen. Neither embodies fully the image that comes to mind when we think of the "strong female character." Not at the surface, anyway. You have to dig and wait patiently to see their strength.

Neither one is able to live out her full dream. Not the way Hollywood might portray it. Instead, both walk quietly the path before their feet with intelligence, deliberate action, and acceptance of the consequences. The stories parallel each other in ways I didn't expect. It's both more subtle and more intricate than you might think.

If you love, and I mean LOVE, the written word for its own sake, this book might be for you. It's almost entirely character driven. Though it moves very slowly, the pace feels right. If it moved faster, it would feel far less satisfying, I think. The title says it all. It's weighty. And so worth carrying!