Loom, the solitary and reclusive neighbor, is a delicious enigma who has captured the imagination of the Zaydan women, as he either slaves away in his garden or endlessly toils at constructing an igloo in the icy snow. He never lets up and is always looming just on the periphery of their home and, indeed, their minds.

The Zaydan women comprise three generations of women: the elderly but wilful Emilie; her repressed daughter Josephine and depressed daughter-in-law Salma; and her irrepressible teenage granddaughter Marie. Of the women, only Marie was born in the USA; the others hail from Lebanon and have been in Vermont for 18 years, but still yearn for their homeland and all it signifies. There is one other man in their life: George, Salma's husband. He spends his life working at the family store and gains a sense of comfort and pride from being able to maintain his family in this strange and wondrous land.

As the book opens, the whole house is in commotion because the colorful Eva is coming to visit from Lebanon. Eva's imminent visit brings many latent and nostalgic thoughts to the fore for all the characters as they privately reminisce about their lives in Lebanon and in the United States. Each character narrates a portion of the tale, which ushers the reader into their private world. A glimpse into Loom's inner life reveals his immense grief at the loss of his wife and son, hence the drudgery—a means of conquering the colossal guilt he harbours.

With Loom, Lebanese-born Thérèse Soukar Chehade has provided a quiet, introspective read. The writing is lyrical, and many little truths and gems surface if one pays attention. There is a profundity in the writing that renders it special and enjoyable. There is always the suggestion of something more than is being stated. The underlying tones of sadness, loss, and even hope and joy imparted via the thoughts and speech of the characters tell a bigger story than the one in front of us.

Chehade's narrative revolves around a Christian-Lebanese family who, as a minority, have already dealt with issues of isolation in their homeland. As immigrants in the United States, they once again face issues of not belonging. In spite of the isolation, melancholy and despondency of some of the characters, the book isn't gloomy. Far from it!

Though Loom is not plot-driven, Chehade builds a slow but compelling story around the Zaydans and their mysterious neighbor, who almost belongs to another world. And just as one despairs of anything happening, she brings them all together: Two worlds brought together in one room, encompassing different ages, different genders, different languages, different cultures and vastly different outlooks on life.

But are they really that different? At the heart of the matter, each individual is engaged with his or her past, which forms an inherent part of their present, no matter how far they move from it. As the characters interact, they are able to overcome the language barrier and share their stories, each revealing sorrow, loneliness, and a vital need for human contact. In the process, one recognises a remarkable connection between the characters, as human beings. I loved the final chapters of this book. Chehade does a wonderful job of unravelling the tale, as her characters finally face their demons head-on, and are able to move on. After years of mere existence, of hiding behind depression, disappointment, grief, and evading one another, some of the characters are finally able to reach out to one another, and learn to breathe freely. This contemplative debut novel portrays its characters and story with depth and sensitivity, and I, for one, eagerly anticipate more from this author.