I don’t usually quote from the backs of books when reviewing them but in the case of When Crickets Cry by Charles Martin, this says it much more succinctly and much better than I could.

Alexander Krutov was born December 6, 1977 in St. Petersburg, Russia. When his teen-aged mother left the hospital three days later, she discarded him in a nearby dumpster. Thankfully God allowed someone to hear his crying, and since he still had his hospital bracelet on, they returned him to the hospital.

He spent the rest of his growing-up years in various orphanages. His humor shines through when he mentions Orphanage Number 9 and comments, “Though the Russians have written some of the greatest works of literature and music, our creativity apparently does not extend to naming orphanages.”

He describes growing up in the orphanages, the general lack of individual attention and care except by a few, the physical lacks (no hot water or shower, only a bucket of water once a week) the lack of individuality (three sets of new clothes once a year that looked exactly like everyone else’s). Yet there were bright lights along the way in a few close friendships and a special caretaker named Melana. He was adopted at one time, but it was a horrid experience resulting in his running away several times until a couple found him asleep in a park, intervened for him, and the orphanage took him back.

He had some experiences with the Russian Orthodox Church, even rising to a level of leadership, but found after a crisis that “my religion had nothing to offer me when I needed it most, and I in turn had nothing to offer the others. I turned my back on the Russian Orthodox Church that day, and accelerated my journey into darkness, despair, and hopelessness.”

The collapse of the Soviet Union 1991 brought many changes to the orphanages, some good and some not so good. But one significant difference was that missionaries were allowed to come into the country. Several encounters with short-term missionaries planted seeds in Alex’s life. Though at first he was not convinced that there was a God who cared about him, he did see a difference in the lives of these people and felt drawn to them. Some missionaries from the Navigators came, and Alex was able to spend much time with them and go to church with them and began reading the Bible on his own. When he was 16 he accepted Christ as his Lord and Savior. His faith was still fragile at first, but gradually it grew and became firm. He had a teachable spirit when the American Christians had to talk to him at times about wrong attitudes.

The Soviet system did not really prepare orphans for any kind of productive life when they became adults. Alex says in one place “the Russian society honestly believed it would be better for everyone if they just died.”

Eventually God led Alex to help in the formation of a ministry to help prepare older orphans for life as responsible adults and tell them of Christ, and it is my understanding that he is still involved with that ministry today in his 30s.

I don’t know if I am doing this book justice, but it was a wonderful read. It was hard in places, seeing what Alex and other orphans went through, but there were so many times the grace of God was manifested in his life, protecting him and bringing him to Himself. I highly recommend it, five stars and two thumbs up!

Wives and Daughters by Elizabeth Gaskell follows the story of Molly Gibson, the young daughter of a widowed country doctor in 19th century England. In the first chapter Molly is a young girl going to her first “open house” of the town’s Earl and family, held once a year at what the townsfolk call “The Great House.” She doesn’t have the best experience there and never attends another.

Some years later she’s a young lady, and one of the pupils her father has taken on has decided he is in love with her. Molly knows nothing of this, but her father feels she is too young for such things and sends her to Hamley Hall in hopes that his young protege’s ardor will cool. Mrs. Hamley has been one of his patients for years, not quite an invalid, but not very active, and for some time she has wanted Molly to come and visit. Through their time together they become quite close, and the Hamleys regard Molly as close as a daughter.

The Hamleys are landed gentry but have fallen on hard times. They have two sons away at Cambridge: Osbourne carries the family’s hopes, handsome, charming, fashionable, and expected to do brilliantly, and Roger is a man of science, plainer, but steady as a rock. Squire Hamley loves Molly as well and regards her father as a dear friend but strongly feels that marrying Molly would be beneath either of his boys because her father is a “professional” man.

While Molly is away her father contemplates his situation. Molly is at the age where it is awkward for him to keep taking young men as pupils, as his pupils live with him. He hadn’t really thought of remarrying, but begins to think it would be good for Molly if he did. Circumstances bring him into contact with Miss Claire, former governess at the Great House, and in pretty short order he proposes.

Molly is not happy. She feels the loss of having her father all to herself, and her earlier encounter with Miss Claire makes her unexcited about having her for a step-mother. But she tries to make the best of it.

Claire, or Hyacinth, as she prefers to be called after her engagement, married primarily to escape the pressure and tedium of having to support herself and her daughter Cynthia, near Molly’s age, who is at school in France. She speaks great flowing sweet words, but something always seems a little off in what she says. She’s not an evil stepmother, but she is totally self-centered. For instance, when her daughter Cynthia is due to come home, Claire, now Mrs. Gibson, wants to redecorate the girls’ rooms just alike even though Molly begs her not to. Molly’s room is furnished with her mother’s things. But Mrs. Gibson doesn’t want people to think she favored her own daughter by decorating only her room, so she insists that both girls’ rooms are alike.

Cynthia comes home, and the girls become fast friends, though Cynthia is the kind of girl that draws all eyes to herself when she enters a room. She’s beautiful, charming, and worldly-wise while Molly is more plain and naive.

The rest of the book follows the interactions of these and a few others. It’s not an action-packed plot, but it had me smiling in places and in tears in others.

Gaskell did a marvelous job with characterization. Cynthia and Molly, Osbourne and Roger are studies in contrasts, and it’s clear which of each pair is regarded as “good,” yet the others have some good qualities and invite our sympathy. None of her characters are caricatures: each has layers. Squire Hamley is gruff and blustery but not as unfeeling as he seems at times. Dr. Gibson is wise but has a keen wit and some of the best humorous lines. For instance, when his wife is envying someone with more than herself and consoles herself by saying, “But riches are a great snare,” her husband answers, “Be thankful you are spared temptation, my dear.” When Mrs. Gibson goes away for a week and Molly is looking forward to going back to some of their old habits, Dr. Gibson’s “eyes twinkled, but the rest of his face was perfectly grave. ‘I’m not going to be corrupted. With toil and labour I have reached a very fair height of refinement. I won’t be pulled down again.'”

It’s hard to say what the theme of the book is, if there is one. It definitely shows the complications of secrets, the devastating harm of gossip, the disappointment of misplaced expectations. Yet perhaps the focus is just on remaining steady and doing the right thing in the face of all of that.

Unfortunately Mrs. Gaskell died before the book’s last chapter was finished, but a Frederick Greenwood concludes the book with what was known of Mrs. Gaskell’s intentions.

I loved this book, and when it ended I was sorry that I wouldn’t be able to spend any more time with these characters.

Audible.com includes a little sample of the reading of their books, and I listened to several before choosing this one read by Nadia May. She was the most expressive, and she did a wonderful job with the different characters’ voices and inflections, from older men to young girls, and one character with a Scottish accent and another who was French.

I also indulged in the BBC-produced film of Wives and Daughters via Netflix (in four parts of about an hour and 15 minutes or so each), and it was remarkably well done. There were some little changes here and there, naturally, some scenes left out and others squished together, a greater liberty taken with the ending, but overall it was faithfully done and much of the dialogue was taken straight from the book.

Here is a trailer from the film — it’s making me want to watch it all over again: