Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, May 27, 1990 TAG: 9005200252
SECTION: HORIZON PAGE: F5 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: Reviewed by JOAN SCHROEDER
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
The prose is unsentimental, clean and straight on in Linda Grace Hoyer's posthumous short story collection, "The Predator."
The eight stories interweave to reveal the life of Ada Gibson, an octogenarian widow living alone on a Pennsylvania farm. Her vision of her life is unique, at times crotchety, and absolutely honest.
In several of the stories she thinks back with some bafflement about her late husband, Marty. She remembers his eulogy, which "was a revelation so surprising that she wanted to laugh in the way that small children laugh at a fairy tale." Recalling some of his courtship letters, Ada reveals that Marty was something of a reluctant bridegroom, agreeing to marry her because "living alone has been so distasteful to [him]."
The gap between his public and private image Ada labels "the street angel" vs. "the house devil." That the two aspects of her husband's persona sometimes merged makes Ada remember him, finally, rather fondly: "This was the man who, during their last meeting, had said, `Ada, I want to get well so that I can help you.' "
Ada seems remarkably content without his help, marking her days with small events few have time to ponder. She savors the rich Christmas blooming of a red hibiscus, the recurring visits of a family of quail, freshly turned ground, a newly mowed field. A visit to the gift shop in town provides solace on a rainy day. Her granddaughters, bikini-clad and barefoot, pick berries for a birthday pie, and speak "to each other in voices so musical that Ada, hearing them, felt pure joy."
In fact, Ada's contacts with the larger outside world seem less than satisfactory. In "A Week of Prayer," she reveals her daily trials. On Monday morning, she discovers that someone has stolen her mailbox. On Tuesday, her late husband's teaching colleague pays a visit in his new, fully equipped van. His queries regarding her grandchildren's possible drug problems prompt Ada to think that while her grandchildren probably wouldn't become drug addicts, "problems with teachers . . . lasted a lifetime."
Wednesday finds Ada visiting a frail neighbor and wondering on the way home if she had made her friend feel worse by sharing only bad news with her. On Thursday, a born-again classmate of her son's calls, telling her that Christopher is her "prayer burden."
Locking herself out of her house on Friday, Ada goes into town and is caught in an odd confrontation with a man looking for female companionship. And on Saturday Ada turns her ankle, sensibly nurses it and prepares to mow the field. By herself.
In Hoyer's vision of life, old age is the greatest predator, bringing with it ill-health, frailty and finally, death. But Hoyer's protagonist (the old-fashioned term "heroine" seems more appropriate referring to Ada) is unafraid of death. In the final story, "The Question," Ada teasingly asks her doctor, "Will you put me to sleep - when I become too troublesome?" He refuses, and asks, "Has anyone ever told you that you are a remarkable woman?"
Ada flips back through her memories. Other terms have been used: odd, indifferent, wound too tight. But not remarkable. Ada is not one to use such a superlative.
Readers of "The Predator" will politely disagree. The term "remarkable" is just right for Ada Gibson and, by virtue of her creative power and honest vision, the late Linda Grace Hoyer.
by CNB