Product Description

Six years after the best-selling, Pulitzer Prize–winning Empire Falls, Richard Russo returns with a novel that expands even further his widely heralded achievement.

Louis Charles (“Lucy”) Lynch has spent all his sixty years in upstate Thomaston, New York, married to the same woman, Sarah, for forty of them, their son now a grown man. Like his late, beloved father, Lucy is an optimist, though he’s had plenty of reasons not to be—chief among them his mother, still indomitably alive. Yet it was her shrewdness, combined with that Lynch optimism, that had propelled them years ago to the right side of the tracks and created an “empire” of convenience stores about to be passed on to the next generation.

Lucy and Sarah are also preparing for a once-in-a-lifetime trip to Italy, where his oldest friend, a renowned painter, has exiled himself far from anything they’d known in childhood. In fact, the exact nature of their friendship is one of the many mysteries Lucy hopes to untangle in the “history” he’s writing of his hometown and family. And with his story interspersed with that of Noonan, the native son who’d fled so long ago, the destinies building up around both of them (and Sarah, too) are relentless, constantly surprising, and utterly revealing.

Bridge of Sighs is classic Russo, coursing with small-town rhythms and the claims of family, yet it is brilliantly enlarged by an expatriate whose motivations and experiences—often contrary, sometimes not—prove every bit as mesmerizing as they resonate through these richly different lives. Here is a town, as well as a world, defined by magnificent and nearly devastating contradictions. 

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #685063 in Books
• Published on: 2007-09-25
• Released on: 2007-09-25
• Format: Bargain Price
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Hardcover
• 544 pages

Amazon.com Review
Amazon Significant Seven, November 2007: Richard Russo's first book since the Pulitzer Prize-winning Empire Falls, Bridge of Sighs is a typically stunning portrait of three small town families struggling--like the town itself--to strike a balance between obsessively embracing their own history or shunning it entirely, with devastating consequences along both paths. Bridge of Sighs is pure Russo: funny, heartbreaking, and ringing completely true. --Jon Foro

From Publishers Weekly
SignatureReviewed by Jeffrey FrankRichard Russo's portraits of smalltown life may be read not only as fine novels but as invaluable guides to the economic decline of the American Northeast. Russo was reared in Gloversville, N.Y. (which got its name from the gloves no longer manufactured there), and a lot of mid–20th-century Gloversville can be found in his earlier fiction (Mohawk; The Risk Pool). It reappears in Bridge of Sighs, Russo's splendid chronicle of life in the hollowed-out town of Thomaston, N.Y., where a tannery's runoff is slowly spreading carcinogenic ruin.At the novel's center is Lou C. Lynch (his middle initial wins him the unfortunate, lasting nickname Lucy), but the narrative, which covers more than a half-century, also unfolds through the eyes of Lou's somewhat distant and tormented friend, Bobby Marconi, as well as Sarah Berg, a gifted artist who Lou marries and who loves Bobby, too. The lives of the Lynches, the Bergs and the Marconis intersect in various ways, few of them happy; each family has its share of woe. Lou's father, a genial milkman, is bound for obsolescence and leads his wife into a life of shopkeeping; Bobby's family is being damaged by an abusive father. Sarah moves between two parents: a schoolteacher father with grandiose literary dreams and a scandal in his past and a mother who lives in Long Island and leads a life that is far from exemplary. Russo weaves all of this together with great sureness, expertly planting clues—and explosives, too—knowing just when and how they will be discovered or detonate at the proper time. Incidents from youth—a savage beating, a misunderstood homosexual advance, a loveless seduction—have repercussions that last far into adulthood. Thomaston itself becomes a sort of extended family, whose unhappy members include the owners of the tannery who eventually face ruin.Bridge of Sighs is a melancholy book; the title refers to a painting that Bobby is making (he becomes a celebrated artist) and the Venetian landmark, but also to the sadness that pervades even the most contented lives. Lou, writing about himself and his dying, blue-collar town, thinks that the loss of a place isn't really so different from the loss of a person. Both disappear without permission, leaving the self diminished, in need of testimony and evidence. If there are false notes, they come with Russo's portrayal of African-Americans, who too often speak like stock characters: (Doan be given me that hairy eyeball like you doan believe, 'cause I know better, says one). But Russo has a deep and real understanding of stifled ambitions and the secrets people keep, sometimes forever. Bridge of Sighs, on every page, is largehearted, vividly populated and filled with life from America's recent, still vanishing past.Jeffrey Frank's books include The Columnist and Bad Publicity. His novel, Trudy Hopedale, was published in July by Simon & Schuster.
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From The Washington Post
Reviewed by Ron Charles

Richard Russo was already the patron saint of small-town fiction, but with his new novel, Bridge of Sighs -- his first since the Pulitzer Prize-winning Empire Falls -- he's produced his most American story. Once again he places us in a finely drawn community that's unable to adjust to economic changes, and with insight and sensitivity he describes ordinary people struggling to get by. But more than ever before, Russo ties this novel to the oldest preoccupations of our national consciousness by focusing on the nature of optimism and the limits of self-invention. This, he writes, is "the narrative of our family, its small, significant journey. Is this not an American tale?" Indeed, no other modern author has defied the "small" in small town with such passion. On the first page of Bridge of Sighs, Russo dismisses any concern about provincialism: "Some people, upon learning how we've lived our lives, are unable to conceal their chagrin on our behalf, that our lives should be so limited, as if experience so geographically circumscribed could be neither rich nor satisfying."

Here is a story to knock those condescending city slickers on their backsides, a story true to the pace and tenor of town life but rife with all the cares and crises of people everywhere. It takes place over many decades in Thomaston, N.Y., where the tannery slowly laid off and poisoned residents until most of them died or moved away. But not all-around nice guy "Lucy" Lynch, who grew up here, never left and is now nearing retirement. He acquired that embarrassingly feminine nickname in kindergarten when the teacher called for "Lou C. Lynch." All this and much more is explained in a history he's writing of the town and his life, a project inspired by an upcoming trip to Italy, where he hopes to see an old friend. He tells his wife that it should take 50 pages, "a hundred, tops," but since we've got 500 to go, we know that's misleading. Lucy's other misdirections are harder to spot, although he admits early on that "it is tempting to lie [about] everything." Why such a blessed and well-liked man should feel tempted to lie about anything is one of the many mysteries that slowly unfold.

Bridge of Sighs crosses through many subjects and themes -- it's Russo's most intricate, multifaceted novel -- but the story revolves around Lucy's relationship with his father, the man he adored and resembles in so many ways that it troubles him. Big Lou was a slightly goofy, sentimental man who grew up during the Depression but emerged convinced "that we were living a story whose ending couldn't be anything but happy." There's a touch of Willie Loman here, except in this version, against all odds, he does okay. A milkman at the dawn of the supermarket era, Big Lou refuses to acknowledge the imminent demise of his career. Lucy's mother, on the other hand, is a sharp, realistic woman, who finds her husband's unbridled optimism exasperating. She makes a point of contradicting his cheery predictions, but it makes no difference to Big Lou, who "maintained, if you kept your nose clean, good things were eventually bound to happen to you." Lucy spends much of the novel negotiating these opposing points of view, aware that he always took his father's side against his mother's deflating realism. "I still remember how much this upset me," Lucy writes. "There wasn't supposed to be any limit to the benefits of hard work and honesty, and her saying there were limits implied that she didn't believe in America, or, worse, in us." Though decades have passed, Lucy remains torn between the two people who loved him, still trying to work out what kind of man he has become. This is not a particularly dramatic story -- a racially charged high-school beating provides the only real fireworks -- but Russo's sensitivity to the currents of friendship and family life, the conflicts, anxieties and irritations that mingle with affection and loyalty, make Bridge of Sighs a continual flow of little revelations.

The most interesting relationship in the novel is Lucy's unlikely friendship with Bobby Marconi, a tough kid who despises his abusive father as much as Lucy adores his own. He's confident and athletic, the mirror opposite of Lucy. Their friendship is badly one-sided, but Lucy is too infatuated to notice, and Bobby is just kind enough to resist telling this nerdy kid to get lost. Even after Bobby and some other ruffians stuff him in a trunk and traumatize him for the rest of his life, Lucy remains determined to believe that his friend wasn't involved.

Russo narrates significant sections of the novel in the third person, filling in details about Bobby's disturbing family life and "Lucy's terrible neediness." In addition, we get several chapters narrated by the adult Bobby, now 60, a famous artist living in Italy. The cumulative effect is a story of constantly evolving complexity and depth, a vast meditation on adolescence and the way it's remembered and misremembered to serve our needs.

It's peevish to complain about anything in such a lovely, deep-hearted novel, but I couldn't help letting out a few sighs of my own as the plot continued to branch out. There's simply too much here and too much redundancy. Lucy suggests that "it's all important," but as much as I enjoyed the book, I'm not convinced. Two of these characters are obsessed with writing very long stories, and Russo seems to have picked up the same compulsion. When he gets caught up in the thrills of a high-school romance -- Which boy will she choose? -- the Bridge of Sighs seems to be crossing over "Dawson's Creek." A late section involving Lucy's wife and an adorable little black child sounds extraneous and precious. And there's a tendency toward portentous profundity: "Odd, how our view of human destiny changes over the course of a lifetime. In youth we believe what the young believe, that life is all choice. We stand before a hundred doors, choose to enter one, where we're faced with a hundred more and then choose again. We choose not just what we'll do, but who we'll be," etc., etc. At such times, the plot, which is never particularly energetic, stalls, and the characters seem overwhelmed, rather than sustained, by the author's wisdom. Listed like this, these complaints sound more damning than I mean them to. Actually, in the course of this enormous and enormously moving novel, I was continually seduced by Russo's insight and gentle humor, his ability to discern the ways we love and frustrate each other. Toward the end, before a trip to Boston, Lucy writes, "We will leave this small, good world behind us with the comfort of knowing it'll be here when we return." One sets down Russo's work with the same comforting reassurance.

Copyright 2007, The Washington Post. All Rights Reserved.

Customer Reviews

In Defense of Richard Russo and a Superb, if Flawed, Novel
I don't think that anyone could dispute that there are countless advantages to achieving literary success, but the flip side of that coin is that that there are disadvantages as well, some of which are born of those aforementioned perks. Winning a prestigious award like, say, the Pulitzer Prize, which Richard Russo did in 2002 for his previous novel, Empire Falls, gives an author freedom to explore the range of their talents without the interference of an editor. This is a blessing, no doubt, but can also be a hindrance for a writer like Russo, who has a tendency to get so caught up in his lush storytelling that it may come across as endless rambling to the casual reader. That he actually has a firm grasp on the plot no longer matters, because that impatient reader will already be lost to the story. And that's quite a shame when it comes to "Bridge of Sighs" since it's actually quite a good novel despite the fact that a good editor could have pruned some passages here and tightened a few plot-points there. The first hundred pages in particular are a little slow, but stick with it. Russo is one of the best storytellers in current fiction, and trusting him a little will be well worth the early effort.

After winning the Pulitzer Prize Russo took a gamble on a different format with a short story collection entitled The Whore's Child: Stories, which was an unfortunate misfire for him, an author who truly shines when he sticks to what he knows best, and in that regard "Sighs" is a glorious return to form. What Russo really understands are middle-aged characters (especially men) with seemingly simple ambitions and quiet lifestyles - in short, the average American citizen. Like Marilynn Robinson (another Pulitzer winner, she for her novel Gilead: A Novel), his talents lie in making ordinary lives extraordinary. He did it for Miles Roby, the college dropout and proprietor of the Empire Grill in "Empire Falls," and he does it again for Lou `Lucy' Lynch, the college dropout and owner of Ikey Lubins Corner Market at the epicenter of "Sighs" (you probably noticed how similar those character descriptions sound, but don't be fooled - Russo is an expert at playing off the tried-and-true without making it feel redundant for a second).

What "Sighs" is ostensibly about is the relationship between Lynch and Robert Noonan, his childhood friend who is now a successful artist living in Venice while Lynch remains (stagnates?) in their old hometown of Thomaston, NY. The two men are polar opposites: Lynch timid and needy, prone to `spells' when he feels stressed and can't handle it, Noonan aggressive and independent, prone to lashing out with his fists when someone tries to cross him; Lynch comfortable living in the past and fearing tomorrow while Noonan actively tries to escape his past and runs headlong into the future. Their dueling narratives flesh out the complexities of their on-and-off friendship, culminating with their recollections of their fateful senior year of high school, a year that proved to be the catalyst for the rest of their lives. At the end of that year, as we know from the very beginning of the novel, Lynch will have won the hand of Sarah, the girl they both fell in love with and who was torn between them for an agonizing year and, perhaps, beyond, and Noonan will have run away to find his destiny in the wider world. As in "Empire Falls," Russo manages to seamlessly blend predictability with some genuine surprises for a heartfelt and multi-layered climax. Seeing how they all ended up where they are is all part of the superb ending, so anyone who doesn't make it through to the end will be missing out. Big time.

But the deeper theme of the novel has to do with our families and how they shape who we are - whether we want them to or not. For Lynch, a nervous and needy person, looking at his parents there was never any question which one he would rather be like: his (foolishly?) optimistic father easily won out over his sensible, grounded mother because what Lynch desires more than anything else is for his father's simple, good-hearted vision of how the world works to be true. The possibility that life can be senseless and cruel is terrifying to him, therefore he rejects it outright. And yet, he is his mother's son, so his optimism represents a choice rather than an inclination, and somehow he must strike a balance between his reality and his desire. Noonan hates both of his parents equally - his father for being a domineering and abusive presence and his mother for being a weak-willed depressive too damaged to get out of her own way. And though he rejects both of them, it terrifies him to know that he is more like them than he would care to admit. Sarah, meanwhile, is literally torn between her parent's disparate world's thanks to their separation and subsequent divorce: summers with her free-spirited, alcoholic mother and school years with her eccentric, rigorously intellectual father. Through them, Russo explores the holds our parents have on us and how, whether we want them to or not, our families mold our lives, and neither Lynch, Noonan or Sarah will ever truly be at peace until they come to terms with the parts of their parents that reside in their own selves. "Do you think we'll end up like them?" Sarah asks at one point. "What if it isn't up to us? What if we're going to end up like them and there's nothing we can do about it?" It's brilliant stuff, deftly handled by Russo, whose acuity for his leads and how they behave and why is nothing short of revelatory. He also scores big with his bit players - his affection for the mischievous Uncle Dec and embittered Gabriel Mock Jr. is palpable.

But as I said earlier, Russo is best at dealing with what he understands, and while he brings 98% of the cast to vibrant life, he seems uncertain of how to handle characters like Hugh, an effete Manhattan intellectual, or Kayla, an African-American preteen living in poverty on Long Island. Lucky for Russo, those misfires are few and far between.

They say that still waters run deep, and this novel, despite looking like a creek, is a veritable ocean. Despite its flaws, "Bridge of Sighs" is a thrilling and enjoyable read once it's had time to get going. Reading this book was a truly effecting experience for me; I can't stop thinking about it, and that, in my humble opinion, is the true test of what makes a great novel.

Grade: A-

A guy named Lucy
Russo seems to be one of the last truly American writers. A Norman Rockwell painting with a distinct and necessary twist. And I was anxious to get my hands on his latest. After EMPIRE FALLS, six years seemed a long wait.

Following along the lines of Russo's signature offerings, we have Smalltown America, the deterioration of a lifestyle, and middle aged people coming to terms. Except these middle-agers were the young people back in the forever-young, don't-trust-anyone-over-30 `60s. And I think this shadow of declining youth and a sagging industry town that once bustled with prosperity gives this novel its melancholy feel. Nonethless, it's enjoyable reading, not to forget the droll touches that are so uniquely Russo. One important aspect, as in Russo's previous work, is the interplay between father and son.

These touches and more all make for a solid read, but I have to say, I don't believe it's Russo's best.(I so much prefer EMPIRE FALLS and NOBODY'S FOOL).

More sighs than bridges
After having this book on my shopping list, waiting for its release, I was excited when I opened the package to see the cover of Bridge of Sighs. I sat down immediately to begin this big book. Richard Russo KNOWS small towns, and how they work, and how the people interact and love and hate and exist. Empire Falls has intrigued me each of the times I have read it, and the movie is wonderful as well, being superbly cast.

Bridge of Sighs falls short. Way short. I put it back on the shelf twice, having given up on it. Yet, I kept wondering what happens when they all get to Italy, so I retrieved it and started in once again. Well, you who have read it know what happens so I won't divulge that here. Suffice it to say I was disappointed.

And bored. I hate to admit it but yes, I was bored by this book. This small town was somehow less relevant, and the relationships were all strained and unhappy. Weird, even. I was bored by the people and bored by their problems. I felt that conclusions about causation were wrong, and weakened the book.

I will always run right out and buy a Richard Russo book, but I hope next time I will be more richly rewarded.