The Bridge of San Luis Rey

I was first introduced to The Bridge of San Luis Rey through Facebook. My dad's status was a quote from the novel, which still remains my absolute favorite: "There was something in Lima that was wrapped up in yards of violet satin from which protruded a great dropsical head and two fat pearly hands; and that was it's archbishop."

Intrigued by this fascinatingly witty and sophisticated sentence, I proceeded to ask him in person if that was the book he was reading. He responded affirmatively and highly recommended it to me. I mentally put it on my list of books to read and moved on, focusing on other things. However, the next week I was assigned a project in which I had to choose a book to read, and we would be imitating the author's style. Originally I chose My Antonia, by Willa Cather, for this project, but when I read The Bridge of San Luis Rey during the project, I knew I had to switch.

This book is beautiful. It is a quiet masterpiece: short, sweet... and a Pulitzer Prize winner. It tells the fictional story of a bridge in Lima, Peru, in the early 1700s, which collapses suddenly one day, taking five people with it into the canyon below. A young priest who sees this happen sets out to investigate the lives of each of these people, trying to prove that God has a purpose for every moment of our lives.

It wasn't anything like I expected, however. I dove into this book eagerly expecting a glorious revelation about God's predestination and purpose for us, expecting each death to have an express purpose, explained fully, even expecting each person's death to positively impact the world because they had been such negative contributors before. Instead, I was introduced to three character's lives told thoroughly, beautifully, and perceptively, all in just a few pages. I was led along the journey of their lives, but none of the elements I thought were necessary for their deaths to have a purpose existed. The common link between all five lives is left for the reader to figure out. Wilder's closing remarks, while profound and beautiful, don't tell us that there is a purpose in life, or that the clear link between the character's lives proves x y and z. Instead, his conclusion deals with those left behind to deal with these deaths, and the importance of living with love in our day-to-day lives.

Wilder's carefully cultivated tone and writing style in this book compliment his profound ideas perfectly. In the special edition of this book, it shows how hard Wilder worked to keep his tone detached from the actual story. This book is not dramatic. At all. It holds the reader at a very careful distance. At times, the tone hints at irony, or amusement, or sorrow. It is such a perfect balance between detached and emotional, that even when the emotions are powerfully overwhelming, he maintains the balance with barely a slip. His ironic passages are, perhaps, his very best; they are clever and funny, and say the most cutting and offensive people, but, as I realized in a discussion with my old English teacher, he manages to make it gentle and even unoffensive, due to his beautiful prose.

In the project, I had to imitate his style. I set out, equipped with my book, a list of his stylistic elements, and my open Word document, ready to conquer Wilder's style.

It was not as easy as it seemed. In fact, it was horrendously difficult.

Wilder's words were so carefully chosen and his style so carefully manipulated so that truly, every word has a meaning which points back to the theme. I believe I succeeded in some places and failed terribly in others, but it gave me a much deeper appreciation for the work Wilder put into this book.

As you near the end of the book and begin to draw your own conclusions, you realize that each character came to a place of rest and closing before they died; you realize that they were all beginning to start new chapters in their lives; you realize the ones they left behind are the ones who truly get to turn their lives around. Perhaps you expected those who died on the bridge to have been truly bad, with lives they couldn't fix. But it is actually the supporting characters who needed these deaths in order to appreciate and turn their own lives around. When the Marquesa Maria, a pitiful woman who spent her life pining over her unrequited love for her daughter, dies, she has just realized that her life was a selfish indulgence. She writes a beautiful new "turnabout" letter to her daughter, and dies the next day. While her life afterwards would have been completely different, and perhaps made a difference in the world, through her death her daughter Dona Clara realizes her mistakes in her treatment of her mother, and is brought to do good at the orphanage. It is there that she begins to ask her larger questions about life.

Coming to a place of rest and new beginnings at the end of your life... do we ever really come to rest? I know in Hebrews at my church we have been discussing "resting" in the Lord. Maybe this "rest" means that you fully trust the Lord with your life: you have forgiven yourself and others for what you've done or they've done, you are content to leave at a moment's notice. But what Wilder really is talking about is your life in perspective of others. Think of the movie It's a Wonderful Life. Jimmy Stewart's character realizes that, though his life is not what he wanted it to be, and he never reached his full potential, he helped his entire town in lifechanging ways.

I've always wondered what would happen if I never existed, just like in this movie. Who would my best friends be friends with? What would be different? The Bridge of San Luis Rey asks something similar: how can your life be used to most impact the lives of those around you?

Rating 5/5 stars