Irving returns to the world of his classic novel, The Cider House Rules, revisiting the orphanage in St. Cloud’s, Maine, where Dr. Wilbur Larch takes in Esther—a Viennese-born Jew whose life is shaped by anti-Semitism.
The fact that Queen Esther isn’t a masterpiece seems neither surprising nor, frankly, the point. What’s most wonderful about Queen Esther is that it returns us to the St. Cloud’s orphanage immortalized in Irving’s magnificent 1985 novel, The Cider House Rules ... Offers as many false starts as spring in Maine ... In the basement of this book, there’s a thrilling story about a woman fighting for the establishment and then the defense of the modern state of Israel ... This may be a story about the education of a novelist, but I don’t think I’ve ever read a novel that struggles so long to cohere. That failing feels all the more disappointing considering the masterful structure of The Cider House Rules, which, despite a long, lumpy plot, always finds its way home ... Flawed.
Countless literary references, lyrical flourishes, and allusions add depth to the Dickensian motif as Irving brilliantly blends moral ambiguity and emotional truth in this essential addition to his oeuvre.
Settling into another of his novels feels like stepping into a beloved pair of slippers. But, as he demonstrates in Queen Esther, that sense of homecoming shouldn't distract readers from the insight and empathy that have consistently characterized his work, including this tenderhearted bildungsroman ... A gentle story about identity and family, the one we're born into and the one that, if we're fortunate, grows organically out a lifetime of loving relationships. It clearly reflects John Irving's compassion and generosity of spirit, recognizing our flaws while still focusing on what's best in us.
