In Lila, Marilynne Robinson returns to Gilead – the setting of her Pulitzer Prize-winning novel Gilead and the Orange Prize-winning follow-up Home – and to the characters that reside in this secluded town of refuge and religion. In the newest instalment of this suite, we see the Reverend John Ames, the letter writer of the epistolary Gilead, through the eyes of his new bride, Lila. In the previous novels Lila hovers on the periphery, a seeming paragon of quiet dignity. In Lila, we learn of her life before Gilead. Neglected as a baby and kidnapped as a child by the troubled but fiercely loyal Doll, Lila has led a nomadic life of odd jobs and hard work. She roams the country with Doll and a ragtag bunch of fellow drifters who become a family of sorts. When a murder separates her and Doll, Lila is on her own for the first time and is left to use the skills learnt on the road to forge a new life for herself.

In the town of Gilead, Lila finds shelter after a lifetime of roaming and homelessness. At the centre of Lila is the story of her struggle to accept the safety of this town and the adoration of her new husband, Ames. Their relationship is tentative, playful and untrusting – neither party is convinced that Lila will be able to stay put long enough for their baby to be born. Robinson handles the uncertainty and affection skilfully.

Read alone, Lila is a beautiful work of fiction. It is a stunning tale of acceptance, trust and hesitation. Read as part of a trio with Home and Gilead, the book becomes an exquisitely nuanced work. It is a layered and considered representation of small-town America, and the lives lived within.

Brigid Mullane is a freelance reviewer.