Cozy. Melancholy. Lovely.
If you are ever caught in a tropical storm in Southern California, you should have this book with you. I have actually been carrying this book around with me for months, and it just never seemed the right time to read it. This past weekend our travel plans were juggled (due to Hurricane Hilary’s insistence that she be in Southern California at the same time we were arriving). We arrived a day early and were, mostly, hotel-bound while then Tropical Storm Hilary made a mess of things.
I had started The Keeper of Lost Things by Ruth Hogan on the plane, and as the grey day pressed in through our hotel window, all I wanted to do was keep reading. This book is made for a cozy reading moment — there are so many references to fires, “a lovely cup of tea,” and cozy scenes — one can’t help but want to be cozy while reading it. (The middle days of our travel left me no time or mental space for reading, but Laura, Carrot, and Sunshine accompanied me home on the plane.)
The Keeper of Lost Things takes place in England, mostly during the late 20th and early 21st centuries. There are several key players and plot lines, but mostly the book follows the work of Anthony Peardew, who began collecting lost things after he experienced tragedy and loss himself. Anthony’s life and passion would draw together people who desperately needed a place to be loved and belong. It is the story of being lost and broken, found and healing.
“For Padua was more than just a house; it was a safe place to heal. A sanctuary for licking wounds, drying tears, and rebuilding dreams—however long it took. However long it took a broken person to be strong enough to face the world again.” (page 42)
What a charming read. I do not typically enjoy love stories or overly romantic plotlines, but I did not mind them at all. I found myself absolutely in love with the idea of a “keeper” of lost things. (Maybe because I lose so many things!) I tend to fall in love with stories — be they conversational anecdotes or novels. I want to hear them, retell them, collect them, know them, savor them…keep them.
And while there are several storylines and plotlines running through Ruth Hogan’s book, it is the stories that fascinated me. That a simple object like a lost glove or wayward puzzle piece could hold a snippet of the lives that touched it was an incredible revelation to me. I would read Anthony Peardew’s volumes — the stories written for each object that graced his study.
“When he started gathering lost things all those years ago, he hadn’t really had a plan. He just wanted to keep them safe in case one day they could be reunited with the people who had lost them. Often he didn’t know if what he had found was trash or treasure. But someone somewhere did. And then he had started writing again, weaving short stories around the things he had found.” (page 23)
This book was filled with captivating descriptions and the lovely ache that accompanies loving another person deeply. Throw in a few laugh-out-loud moments and dog lovers, and Bob’s your uncle. It’s a great book. Ruth Hogan's words convey her deep understanding of love, loss, friendship, and healing.
It is a book that broke me out of a reading slump and reminded me of all I love about reading and what I love about writing. I will keep it on the shelf for a winter read — I see a roaring fire and a cup of tea! Do not wait for a hurricane or for a rainy day to read this book. It is worth picking up today (also, don’t carry it around for months!).
