The Poet of Tolstoy Park

I loved this book so much I went looking for the author's website and sent him a note. I figured doing so might serve a double purpose: 1) let the writer know his work was enjoyed, 2) cast a vote for the values that drive the story -- such as I see them. Here's what I had to say Sonny Brewer: Just wanted to say that "The Poet of Tolstoy Park" has rendered me incapable of starting another book. I finished on Saturday and have since been unable to let myself be drawn away from Henry Stuart, Tolstoy Park, and Fairhope. "The Confessions of Max Tivoli" sits on my bedside table, and though I'd been very eager to read it, I now find I haven't the will. I want to savor your book awhile longer. By my reckoning, such as its worth, "The Poet of Tolstoy Park" is a thing of beauty, grace, and wisdom. And humor, too. In fact, I'm puzzled that the reviews I've read, both editorial and reader reviews, fail to mention the delightful humor. I'm even more puzzled, however, that I haven't read one review that mentions the "community" theme. That we are all connected, and that in our acknowledgment of our connectedness, and in our service to one another, we can best live a good life and thus best die, seems to me the heart of the story. I suppose we all see in the world around us what we see in our heads, and I've just finished writing a novel in which community is a central theme, so it may be my unique perspective to see it as the heart of your book . . . But surely Henry's conviction that humankind's hope lies not in Christianity, nor any institutionalized religion or social philosophy, Tolstoy's included, but in our Christian treatment of one another, was not an insignificant bit of character detail. I digress. Thank you for the blessedly uplifting read. I've often said that reading Wendell Berry's novels and stories is like eating a bowl of the most delicious, nutrious soup ever cooked up. Early on in your book I decided that reading it was like eating a slice of fresh-and-warm-from-the-oven homemade wholegrain bread, healthy but also heavenly tasty, spread with good butter and drizzled with honey, just here and there so bites alternate between honeyed and honey-free. That notion stayed with me throughout, but it also felt a smidge short of the whole truth. Then I reached your passage about Henry's strawberry beds and I thought, "That's it! This book is like a slice of wonderful bread (as described above) accompanied by fresh strawberries straight from the garden." I even imagined eating these berries and bread (reading your book) while sitting on the side of one of Henry's raised beds, basking in the sun. That's what I had to say to Mr. Brewer. To readers I say, "Buy this book and know that beauty and goodness are alive and well in this sweet old troubled world."

If you are looking for a book to savor, buy The Poet of Tolstoy Park. The protagonist, Henry Stuart, teaches us about living and dying when he leaves his old life in Idaho and moves to Fairhope, Alabama. Henry learns to live in the moment while he builds a round hut, sets privacy-boundaries with his new friends (an ongoing battle in most of our lives), and does what he loves most: reads, writes, and weaves. And he does it all without his boots! Along the way, Henry's health improves, his friendships deepen, and the barefoot poet finds peace in dying. Sonny Brewer has written a beautiful story and, like a poet, has given his readers plenty to ponder.

Publisher's Weekly, et al, above have given a good summation of the book (kind of sort of) above, so I won't go into that. I will say that I enjoyed this one a lot. The author's wonderful style/syntax are from another day. They are quite reminiscent of the writings of David Grayson (Ray Stannard Baker). Mr. Brewer gives us a wonderful collection of characters, drifting through the life of Henry Stewart, a very real person, so I understand. I think it is important to note and remember the age of the man being written about here. So much written today about men and women in advanced age is rather depressing, at the very least, but here we have wonderful book of hope and one of more realism as to the aging process. Being of "advanced age" myself, I rather like this. Like a previous reviewer, I would have loved to have visited with Henry (more to listen than to talk) and am sure I would have been in line to sign his guest book. I very much recommend this one for any person wanting a nice quiet read, full of thought and one that is very well written. I do hope we get more from this author. Thank you Mr. Brewer!

I can hardly keep my eyes open this morning, as I pulled a rare late-nighter reading this awesome, inspiring, beautifully written novel. This is the tale of Henry James Stuart, who when he heard that he was dying of consumption and had only a year to live, decided to leave the cold climate of Idaho for Fairhope, Alabama. His wife had died a few years before and his two sons were grown, so Henry was itching for some adventure in the last days of his life, and he also didn't want to burden his sons with having to care for him. Henry is a practical, no-nonsense, seminary-educated disciple of Tolstoy, Black Elk and Chief Seattle, albeit a quiet, unassuming man whose simple life spoke much louder than his words. In magical, luminous words, he brings to life his hilltop on Mobile Bay where, when inspired by watching a pair of Ospreys build their nest, he decides to build a circular house. In struggling to come to terms with his impending death, he instead, discovers life and how to live it. This is a must-read and a must-own tome! I plan to read it over and over again. Thank you, Mr. Brewer, for such a magnificant work of literature!!!

I admit that I was taken with this novel, the partly historical tale of a man who came to Alabama terminally ill-to live or to die. A man who wrote poetry and lived a good and peaceful life in a round house made during his advancing years, made with his own hands. The language is good; the story is believable and honest. Henry Stuart, a person we might call eccentric, came to the Eastern Shore of Mobile Bay during the early part of the last century. He knew Clarence Darrow, was well known as a kind of sage. He deserved to be known as a sage if Brewer's interpretation is close to the bone, and I'm sure it is. Stuart is a man I'd liked to know personally, if time travel could afford such a treat. But our only time travel will be Brewer's book, and that will suffice. This novel is not about received wisdom. It's a book of wisdom, but not the wisdom that fills football stadiums or makes corporations rich and common men paupers or builds newer, more efficient bombs. This is the kind of wisdom-and story-that turns a person introspective and longing, questioning what manner of crossroads we've come to and what we ought to do about it. Not unlike Stuart, every human with conscience has a round hut to build-or not build-as his or her moral toughness allows. I like this novel, a fictionalized account about a real man. A man. A real man in a time of men without chests, as I think C.S. Lewis once called the useless, flat characters of life that are really not characters at all. Brewer has written a good one, one worth the money to buy and the hours reading required to take in the beauty and wisdom of the story. ------Reviewed by Dayne Sherman, author of Welcome to the Fallen Paradise