How Do You Live Without Love?, by Anthony Bradshaw | Book Review

I wasn’t exactly sure what to expect when I picked up the book, How Do You Live Without Love? by Anthony Bradshaw. As it turns out, this is a literary fiction drama novel that tackles some tough questions and thought-provoking plotlines. I would say, it’s probably written primarily for a Christian or at least spiritually questioning audience. It tackles themes of grief, institutional decay, moral certainty, and the meaning of faith.

The book follows Wesley Aames, who arrives at New Covenant United Methodist Church broken, a widower carrying the burden of his wife and daughter’s deaths, hired to resurrect a congregation that’s falling apart. What he finds is a church on life support, with dwindling funds and a choir director who mistrusts him from day one. When a local teenager dies by suicide and her mother’s cruel online shaming goes public, Wesley will find himself stepping into the chaos.

Firstly, I appreciate this book isn’t afraid to tackle difficult subjects head-on. As I said, it’s probably going to appeal primarily to Christians, as the setting is deeply embedded in church life, after all, but it’s not preachy or necessary to be religious at all. I’m not Christian myself, and I found it pretty engaging and thought-provoking. The novel works because of Wesley’s perspective; his internal voice immerses us completely in his struggles and doubts. The characters are all vividly drawn, and feel like real people you would find in this sort of church setting.

The writing itself is largely very well done, clean, assured, and emotionally honest. Bradshaw has a knack for capturing small, telling moments that reveal character without heavy-handedness. The prose moves smoothly, never calling attention to itself while still landing its emotional beats. That said, I occasionally found myself wanting more descriptive detail. The Asheville setting is evocative when it appears, but sometimes the physical world felt a bit thin; I just would have appreciated richer sensory details to ground certain scenes more fully. The focus is clearly on internal experience and dialogue, which works for the story being told, but a bit more atmospheric description would have deepened my immersion.

Despite the fact I have no background in this kind of religious environment, Wesley is a likeable protagonist who I cared about throughout the book. Consider this chapter opening, “Wesley parked in an empty parking lot and sat for a few minutes–enjoying his raging air-conditioner for as long as possible.” These small, human details make him real as well as his internal dialogue conveyed throughout. Bradshaw’s prose style favors these intimate, understated observations over ornate language, which suits the contemplative tone perfectly, though readers who prefer more descriptive prose or complex characters may find it a touch spare at times.

The book also has its fair share of humor, often dark and self-aware. There’s a Beatles reference after a disastrous funeral I loved, “Wesley felt like Father McKenzie, the priest from Eleanor Rigby. No one was saved. Ha! Not even close.” But make no mistake, this novel confronts serious darkness, namely topics of suicide and grief. Rosa Lee McFarland’s role as Jamie’s mother serves as the book’s moral catalyst, and following Jamie’s suicide the book goes to some pretty dark places. The novel doesn’t make anyone into a cartoon hero or villain, which I particularly appreciated.

The novel’s exploration of parental loss is one of its most well-done elements, handled with real sensitivity. Bradshaw examines grief from multiple angles, Wesley mourning his wife and child, Rosa Lee’s catastrophic failure as a parent leading to her daughter’s death, and the various ways parents throughout the community navigate loving and losing. For anyone suffering through grief, it’s absolutely the perfect book.

I found this overall to be an enjoyable read, nothing mind-blowing, but just generally very well done. It’s the type of book best read curled up by the fire. It has a cozy quality despite its heavy themes, reminiscent of Fredrik Backman’s work. The pacing is deliberate, the tone introspective, although some may want more drama at times. I also appreciated the chapters are relatively short and easy to get through, meaning this is an great book to pick up and read a couple of chapters before bed time.

Worth noting: this is the first book in The Dying Church series, and the sequel is apparently already out. This makes sense as the book doesn’t have an entirely conclusive ending. If you’re looking for fast-paced plot or tidy endings, look elsewhere. But if you want a thoughtful, at times page-turning meditation on grief and small-town Americana that looks set to develop into a compelling series, How Do You Live Without Love? is well worth your time.

Recommended for: Readers of literary fiction, those interested in faith-based stories and anyone who appreciate Fredrik Backman’s cozy novels. Also for fans of the stories of Matt Haig and Jonas Jonasson.

You can get your copy of How Do You Live Without Love? here!