“I Cheerfully Refuse” is a modern-day retelling of the myth of Orpheus, the musician who traveled to the underworld to rescue his wife. Set in an all-too-possible near future along Lake Superior, Leif Enger’s novel — his fourth — is stunning, almost pitch-perfect, with a harrowing tale and beguiling characters.
Enger, who lives in Duluth, is the author of “Peace Like a River” and “Virgil Wander.” This new book is narrated by Rainy, a bear of a man who lives with his ebullient wife Lark in a village somewhere between Duluth and Thunder Bay. Civilization is collapsing, with most money and resources swallowed up by “the astronauts” — that is, billionaires. For everyone else, society is teetering — schools have closed, the economy limps along through black markets and bartering, climate change wreaks havoc.
Impoverished people sign six-year employment contracts under the “Employees Are Heroes Act,” only to find themselves serving as guinea pigs for government experiments.
“It’s just the times. The times are so unfriendly,” says Rainy’s friend Labrino, who later partakes of a popular suicide drug called Willow. (“It isn’t suicide,” a character says later in the book. “It’s stepping through the door. … They went in search of better.”)
Lark runs a bookstore, although very few people read; Rainy plays bass in a bar band. They make a little money renting out a bedroom, which is how Kellan enters their lives. And when he does, everything falls apart.
Gawky and red-headed, Kellan is on the run for breaking his contract with the government and maybe for something worse. Weeks after his arrival, disaster ensues, and Rainy flees for his life. He is no sailor — that was always Lark’s thing — but he climbs aboard a rickety sailboat called Flower and steers into a Lake Superior storm.
Along the way he picks up a stowaway, a raggedy, resourceful child called Sol, and the two become a team. Their travels on the lake make up the bulk of the narrative, and Enger’s writing is at its very best here, confident and strong, with evocative descriptions of storms, water and sky.
“The northerly breeze smelled of spruce marshes and occasionally of damp smoke, which made me feel safe and fully forgotten. … Along the fifty-mile volcanic stone peninsula I saw neither roads nor buildings, no emblem of human ambition or discord. That night I slipped into a primeval cleft and anchored in water still as sky.”
