Finding Faith in Curiosity: A Review of Ruth by Kate Riley
As someone who lives just outside Sarasota, Florida, in a community rich with the traditions and simplicity of the Peace Church population—including the Amish and Mennonite families—I’ve often found myself captivated by their grounded way of life. When I stumbled upon Ruth by Kate Riley, a novel weaving the tale of a woman grappling with her faith within a tightly-knit religious community, I felt an immediate connection. Ruth’s quest mirrored my own—a questioning spirit longing for clarity amidst the acceptance that others seem to find so easily.
Ruth is a character who exists on the periphery of her community, always slightly apart from the spirited believers surrounding her. In a world where blind obedience is the norm, her curiosity feels like both a blessing and a curse. Echoing my childhood questions about faith, she wrestles with the tension between loyalty to her beliefs and the niggling doubts that refuse to fade. I couldn’t help but see my younger self in her, often asking, "But why?"—a question that led to exploration but also to a sense of guilt for not conforming.
Riley’s depiction of Ruth’s inner turmoil is both poignant and relatable. The tension is palpable as Ruth tries to balance her longing for the fervor her neighbors possess with her inability to fake that same certainty. The way she navigates her spiritual landscape is a journey many of us can recognize, particularly those of us raised in structured faith communities. Ruth’s struggles might resonate with anyone who has felt the pull of faith contrasting against the voice of inquiry.
What particularly stood out to me in Riley’s writing is her clever wit interspersed with softer, more reflective moments. The humor provides a refreshing balance to the heavier existential themes. Take, for instance, the line, “The only solution for anger at your husband is to bake him a pie.” The absurdity of such domestic wisdom in light of genuine emotional conflict had me both chuckling and nodding in agreement. Likewise, her commentary on the misadventures in the kitchen—“She did not just ruin dishes but ruined them elaborately…”—adds a playful quirk that effectively humanizes Ruth, making her even more relatable.
Ruth’s journey is also marked by moments where she confronts the Bible’s complexities. The insightful line, “It took Ruth trial and mortifying error to learn what of the Bible was now accurate only in metaphor,” speaks volumes about the sometimes overwhelming nature of religious texts and their interpretations. Riley captures this sentiment beautifully, crafting a narrative that is humorous and earnest—it’s a balance that elevates the story without diminishing its weight.
Ruth is not just a story about faith; it’s an exploration of identity, doubt, and belonging. It invites readers to ponder their relationship with belief and community, and it’s especially poignant for anyone standing on the cusp of doubt, longing to belong but needing to question. I walked away from this book not only with a deeper understanding of a closely-knit community I see every day but also with reflections on my own spiritual journey.
In conclusion, I wholeheartedly recommend Ruth to anyone intrigued by the complexities of faith, identity, and the space between conformity and curiosity. Riley’s gentle humor and insightful narrative offer both a window into a unique way of life and a mirror reflecting our shared human struggles. It’s a tale that resonates, leaving you feeling both understood and inspired to embrace your own questions.