MIRACLE AT ANGELS BEND | Kirkus Reviews

The lives of four characters are transformed by a mysterious Christian revelation in Bohlen’s novel.

The town of Angels Bend, Pennsylvania, is “nestled inside the protective arm of a large arc in the Susquehanna River, having a dense stand of timber on a steep slope directly opposite.” The narrative focuses on four main characters: Hannah, whose dreams of going into missionary work have been stymied by a tragic automobile accident that took the lives of her father and brother (Hannah was at the wheel); Josh, an aspiring musician who’s down on his luck and increasingly estranged from his family; office worker (and volunteer fire fighter) Dave, whose marriage to Ellen is strained by her mental health issues; and Larina, a journalist who’s the object of extramarital temptation for Dave, who’s tormented by both his feelings for her and by his concern for his erratic wife. (“He thought back to his twenties when he could imagine nothing more satisfying than being married. But what did he know about mental illness at age twenty-four?”) These four people find themselves linked both by the looming threat of wildfires and by a mysterious book—author and provenance unrevealed—that feelingly explores aspects of the Jesus story. The small cast of characters find their personal religious faiths challenged and re-affirmed by the tidings of this enigmatic book, even as the events of their lives—with attendant grief, guilt, doubt, and lust—unfold.

Bohlen does a very effective job of balancing all four of his main plotlines, never allowing one to dominate the others. He navigates the endemic narrative pitfalls of contemporary Christian fiction—including saccharine piety and unrealistic characters—with a good deal of skill; his people are largely believable, and he more often than not avoids the annoying straw-man caricatures that tend to provide the conflict in Christian fiction. There are lapses, as when readers are told that Hannah’s Psych 101 class describes “existentialism” as a worldview in which “nothing has purpose, nothing has meaning, things happen to you, and you’re just stuck in it, essentially alone and unloved,” adding, for good measure, “Good and evil are pragmatic, not moral. Nothing is fundamentally right or morally wrong.” More surprising are the frequent notes advocating humanistic self-care, such as, “The Lord doesn’t expect you to submit to abuse.” (This assertion is buttressed, as many of the book’s other points are, by a footnote: “Living with manipulative family members who are struggling with mental health or addiction issues is extremely taxing and can lead to severe effects on those around them.”) Bohlen is particularly empathetic when describing the transformative nature of Christian faith; Josh, for instance, feels “something worth holding on to. A soft, eternal Presence—long ago pushed to the basement of his soul.” This is a refreshingly straightforward and reality-focused example of Christian fiction, convincingly depicting everyday people with everyday problems who will be relatable to Bohlen’s audience. Christian readers will doubtless appreciate the author’s portrayal of the many ways the living current of their faith can find its way into their lives just when they need it most.

A page-turning and heartfelt novel of a group of average folks encountering a new side of their faith.