In his short novel, Ackerman accomplishes what a mountain of maximalist books have rarely delivered over tens of thousands of pages and a few decades: He makes pure character-based literary art, free of irony, free of authorial self-aggrandizement, dedicated only to deeply human storytelling. Waiting for Eden is a journey through the traumas, betrayals and ecstasies of contemporary warfare and the multiple lives touched and sometimes shattered by one combat injury or death. Be forewarned, there is more trauma here than ecstasy, yet there is also grace and wonder. Ackerman accomplishes so much in so few pages that the book feels nearly unclassifiable ... To identify this book as a novel seems inadequate: Waiting for Eden is a sculpture chiseled from the rarest slab of life experience. The sculptor’s tools are extreme psychological interrogation and clear artistic vision. It is a vision from which we might discover some new knowledge about war and being—perhaps even regain a moral core.
This is a tautly written, gripping read that, in the best tradition of war-related fiction, reminds us in unflinching detail of the awful cost of battle. However, it also, surprisingly, pays homage to other genres. Part mystery, part thriller, part unconventional love story, Waiting for Eden explores with gravity and sensitivity the profound questions of love and fidelity, duty and honor, and how one creates a life worth living.
Those new to [Ackerman] will discover a writer whose novella-sized book has a beguiling simplicity with sentences that move at an unhurried pace, all of it easily read in one sitting ... The language lacks lyrical flourish for the most part, though there are moments when the sentences gesture toward an overt beauty ... Waiting for Eden suggests that the dead care more for the living than most of the living do for one another. It is a story that might serve as a call for compassion, or at least awareness, for those wounded in our wars — as well as their loved ones and caregivers.
As the novel unfolds the troubles of their relationship before Eden’s decision to re-enlist, it gives an uncompromising picture of the war on terror as it’s waged at home, by the wives of soldiers fighting for the idea of family as their husbands expend the best of themselves in unending conflicts overseas. The interest in understanding contemporary war from all angles binds Mr. Ackerman’s novels (his previous books centered on a young Afghan villager and an interloper in the Syrian civil war). But while this author is empathetic, he’s also pitiless. There are as few consolations in Waiting for Eden as there would be in a novel set on the battlefield itself.
At 173 pages, it's brief and sparse—and best absorbed in one sitting. But its punch will sting big-time, in a way that shows of the enormous power of fiction ... the answers Ackerman finds can be hard to take, but necessary to acknowledge ... Buckle up. The unnamed narrator packs a wallop.
What Ackerman gives us is a tight-knit, inward-looking reckoning with the costs of military sacrifice—in emphatic flesh-and-blood terms ... In Waiting for Eden, the outward action is minimal ... Ackerman’s ghostly narrator informs us, 'and they’ve cut all of him off up to the torso.' He can’t move; he can’t speak. Communication with his wife, Mary, and the nursing staff is nearly impossible. That may sound like an impossibly grim scenario. But as Eden reaches back into the past, its story of betrayals and odd bargains made between the three begins to lend it intrigue and suspense. The clues to where it’s going are in its opening lines ... Ackerman’s spare but vivid prose conveys everything it needs to convey ... As daring as it is, Waiting for Eden sticks closer to home with its entirely American cast of characters. But it makes you wonder what challenge Ackerman will take on next.
...[a] gorgeously constructed short novel ... Both Eden’s and Mary’s fears and foibles are richly explored to create a deeply moving portrayal of how grief can begin even while our loved ones still cling to life. In this unique Afghanistan and Iraq Wars novel, which joins a growing genre that includes Kevin Powers’ Yellow Birds (2012) and Phil Klay’s Redeployment (2014), Ackerman’s focus on a single family makes the costs of war heartbreakingly clear, as does his drawing emotion and import from the smallest of acts with incredible skill. Many will read this wonderful novel in a single sitting.
Ackerman skillfully weaves his story across chapters that alternate between the grim reality of the burn center and Eden’s more robust past, where we discover that he and Mary had difficulty conceiving a child, a tension exacerbated by the narrator’s growing attraction to Mary ... The poignancy arises out of the fact that they both love Eden in their own way. An affecting, spare, and unusual novel.
He offers a bird’s-eye view of the pain and suffering of both Mary and Eden as they struggle separately to make peace with Eden’s imminent death. This is a deeply touching exploration of resentment, longing, and loss among those who volunteer to fight and the loved ones left behind.
