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The Blithedale Romance by Nathaniel Hawthorne

Jan30

I am working through a reading project, a Century of Reading —reading one book published in each year from 1851-1950. My choice for a book published in 1852 was Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Blithedale Romance. It’s not a long novel, a little over 200 pages, but it took me the entire month of January, reading a couple of chapters at a time, to finish it. And then, I was confused.

Questions (with spoilers): What was the relationship between Zenobia and Westervelt? Why was Priscilla so docile and weak-willed? Was Coverdale actually in love with one of the two women in the story? What was the meaning of the masquerade scene at the end? How did Zenobia lose her money? Why does Zenobia commit suicide? What kind of person is Coverdale really? Is he a reliable narrator or an unreliable one? What do the personal love lives of these four main characters have to do with the experimental farm called Blithedale? Is the failure of such a utopian community inevitable? Why?

I already knew about the connection between Hawthorne’s experiences at Brook Farm, the failed Transcendentalist experiment in communal living, and this novel written many years later. I read the Introduction by John Updike in my Modern Library edition and found not much to illuminate or answer my questions. I read the Wikipedia article, and a few other pieces, mostly feminist musings on the character of Zenobia, and still no answers. Then, I found this article, Love Conquers All, at an online journal called The New Atlantis. Although it didn’t answer all of my questions, it certainly was helpful, giving me some perspective on the novel.

I think, whether he knew it or not, Hawthorne was writing in part about the dangers of idol worship. Each of the main characters in the novel is looking for someone or something to worship, someone or something to give his or her life meaning and purpose. And God, for the most part, is ignored or given short shrift. Hollingsworth is completely wrapped up in his scheme of reforming criminals. Zenobia worships Hollingsworth and accommodates even her most cherished views to his overpowering sermons. Priscilla silently worships Zenobia and Hollingsworth, but her high god is shown to be Hollingsworth. Coverdale flits from one god to another: the community and its high purpose, his own poetry, his own individuality, the beauty he finds in Zenobia and in nature itself, maybe Priscilla. Coverdale can never commit to anything or anyone, and that is his tragedy.

The great tragedy for all of the characters in this novel is that they try to create heaven without God, and they all end up without any meaning or purpose at all. They give lip service to a Creator, but like all of us, their foolish hearts try to find Him in the worship of the things and people He has created. I recently heard a story about a Bible study group that was studying the book of Romans, and one of the members asked incredulously, “You mean good people who try to do everything right are not righteous in God’s sight? A good person will not necessarily go to heaven?” This novel (and the book of Romans) show how being good, having good intentions, trying to worship good things, is never enough. We are more deceived, even as we look into our own hearts, than we can know.

For although they knew God, they neither glorified him as God nor gave thanks to him, but their thinking became futile and their foolish hearts were darkened. Although they claimed to be wise, they became fools and exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images made to look like a mortal human being and birds and animals and reptiles. . . . But you see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly.  Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die.  But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

Romans 1:21-23; 5:6-8

And yet there is hope. Here’s what Hawthorne wrote about Zenobia’s body, recovered from the stream after her suicide.

“One hope I had; and that, too, was mingled half with fear. She knelt, as if in prayer. With the last, choking consciousness, her soul, bubbling out through her lips as it may be, had given itself up to the Father, reconciled and penitent. . . . The flitting moment, after Zenobia sank into the dark pool–when her breath was gone, and her soul at her lips–was as long, in its capacity of God’s infinite forgiveness, as the lifetime of the world.”

p.213, The Blithedale Romance

10 Best Adult Novels I Read in 2021

Dec28
  • Hannah Coulter by Wendell Berry (re-read)
  • That Hideous Strength by C.S. Lewis (re-read)
  • The Death of Ivan Ilyich by Leo Tolstoy
  • The Painted Veil by Somerset Maugham
  • Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik
  • His Majesty’s Dragon by Naomi Novik
  • The Way of Kings by Brandon Sanderson
  • Our Mutual Friend by Charles Dickens
  • Reunion by Fred Uhlman
  • Mansfield Park by Jane Austen (re-read)

First there are the re-reads: Hannah Coulter, That Hideous Strength, and Mansfield Park. Hannah Coulter was just as good as I remembered it. This fictional memoir of an old woman remembering her life and the lives of her children made me think about my grown children and how their lives have taken such different turns and directions from what I expected. Russell Moore writes about “why you should read Hannah Coulter”, and I second his motion.

“Most people now are looking for a ‘better place’, which means that a lot of them will end up in a worse one. . . . There is no ‘better place’ than this, not in this world. and it is by the place we’ve got, and our love for it, and keeping of it, that this world is joined to heaven.”

~Hannah Coulter, p. 83

I re-read all three of Lewis’s space trilogy books this year: Out of the Silent Planet, Perelandra, and That Hideous Strength. I must say that I enjoyed That Hideous Strength the most of the three, whereas previously I thought Perelandra was my favorite. That Hideous Strength is just so prophetic. How did Lewis know that men and women would become so confused about gender roles or that mixing Christianese (talk) with pagan concepts would become such a problem? Or that many would move past naturalistic materialism straight into the occult? Just like 1984 by George Orwell, which I understand was written partially as a response to Lewis’s book, That Hideous Strength is full of images and ideas that speak directly to today’s issues: the manipulation of the press/media, police brutality and accountability, psychological techniques used for rehabilitation, crime and punishment, education, gender roles, procreation or the lack thereof, and much more. I read That Hideous Strength with Cindy Rollins’ Patreon group, and we had lots of good discussion about all of these ideas.

The Death of Ivan Ilych and Reunion were two more books I read along with the Literary Life podcast folks (Angelina Stanford, Thomas Brooks, and Cindy Rollins), and I’m sure I enjoyed them extra-specially because of the podcast discussions. Both books are novellas, rather than full length novels, and both are well worth your time.

“He felt that he was trapped in such a mesh of lies that it was difficult to make sense out of anything. Everything she did for him was done strictly for her sake; and she told him she was doing for her sake what she actually was, making this seem so incredible that he was bound to take it to mean just the reverse.”

~The Death of Ivan Ilyich by Leo Tolstoy

The Painted Veil by Somerset Maugham was a book read back in February, about a woman torn between fidelity to a seemingly loveless marriage and adultery with a seemingly exciting and passionate man. The keyword is “seemingly.” I didn’t review this book, but here’s a review at Educating Petunia that includes thoughts on the movie version as well. I think I’d like to watch the movie sometime, and I was reminded of this reading project that I’d like to restart in 2022. So many projects, so little persistence.

“You know, my dear child, that one cannot find peace in work or in pleasure, in the world or in a convent, but only in one’s soul.”

~The Painted Veil by Somerset Maugham

Our Mutual Friend was my Dickens novel for the year, and although it’s not my favorite Dickens, any book by Dickens stands head and shoulders above the pack. I also watch duh mini-series of OMF and enjoyed that quite a bit. I plan to read Hard Times (with the Literary Life folks) and maybe re-read David Copperfield (my favorite Dickens novel) in 2022.

“No one is useless in this world who lightens the burden of it for anyone else.”

Our Mutual Friend, Mr. Rokesmith

I discovered Naomi Novik’s fantasy novels early in 2021, both Spinning Silver and her Temeraire series about Napoleonic era dragons and men working together to defeat Napoleon and remake the world, especially England, as a comfortable and welcoming place for friendly working dragons. These book are just fun, and if you like adult fantasy, with some non-explicit hanky-panky going on (not the focus of the novels), then I recommend these.

I also read Brandon Sanderson’s Stormlight Archive trilogy in early 2021 while I was coughing with Covid, beginning with The Way of Kings. It was good, absorbing, with lots of good character development and plot twists that I didn’t see coming. This author is so prolific, more than thirty, mostly huge, sprawling novels published, that I will never read all of his books, but I may dip back in again to his Cosmere (fantasy world), from time to time. The following quote was particularly timely:

“There are worse things . . . than a disease. When you have one, it reminds you that you’re alive. Makes you fight for what you have. When the disease has run its course, normal healthy life seems wonderful by comparison.”

Brightness Shallon in The Way of Kings, p. 506

Fanny Price and Mansfield Park. I knew I had read Mansfield Park before, but all I could remember was the play-within-a-novel that turns into a disaster. I initially found both the book and the protagonist somewhat lackluster and plodding, but the more I read, and the more I listened to The Literary Life podcast episodes about the book, the more I grew to love Fanny. I can only aspire to the humility and servanthood that she exemplifies. (Aspiring to humility is something of an oxymoron, but it actually makes sense in a Chestertonian sort of way.) Anyway, I would like to be able to keep my mouth shut more often as Fanny does and to think of myself less and others more. I think that sort of attitude comes by practice, though, and it’s hard to be willing to practice humility.

So, what are the themes that emerge from all this fictional reading? Endure hardship patiently. And brighten the corner where you are. If I could learn these two lessons, deep in my soul, by means of story or situational experience, I’d be, well, certainly better, farther along the path to virtue. Not that I read to become virtuous, but stories do seep into the soul.

What fiction formed your life in 2021? What novel(s) will you be reading in 2022?

At the Sign of the Golden Compass by Eric P. Kelly

Mar24

Eric P. Kelly‘s historical novel, The Trumpeter of Krakow, won the Newbery Medal in 1929. At the Sign of the Golden Compass was published ten years later in 1938, and it has a lot in common with Mr. Kelly’s earlier award-winning novel. Although Golden Compass begins in London in 1576 with the nineteen year old printer’s apprentice Godfrey Ingram being accused of crime he didn’t commit, the main setting is the European continent, specifically the city of Antwerp, Belgium. Spain and Holland are at war, and rebellious and undisciplined Spanish troops are quartered in the Flemish city of Antwerp, threatening violence and pillage to the citizens of the city at any time. Or perhaps the Dutch troop will fight the Spanish in the very heart of the city itself.

Godfrey Ingram, after fleeing to Antwerp, finds himself in the middle of not only a war between the Spanish and the Dutch, but also an intellectual battle between medieval astrologers, sorcerers, and assorted fakirs who fear the spread of knowledge and of literacy and the progressive printers, authors and translators who are working to educate and illuminate by the power of the written word and the printing press. Godfrey finds sanctuary and begins work at the printshop of Christopher Plantin, who is memorialized at the Museum Plantin-Moretus in Antwerp to this day. Other actual historical characters who make an appearance in the novel are philosopher Justus Lipsius, Governor of Antwerp Champagney, Phillip II of Spain, and the painter Peter Paul Rubens.

The central antagonist in the novel is a famous astrologer and sorcerer (as in The Trumpeter of Krakow), and the book shows the controversy between the new ideas brought to the public by means of the printing press and the old superstitions that held men in bondage before the advent of mass printing. In fact the two main characters, Godfrey Ingram and Christopher Plantin, discuss the allure and power of printing toward the end of the book:

“I would far rather be a master craftsman in this trade than posses a doctor’s gown. Yea, I would rather print fine books than own a hundred ships that bore treasures from the Americas or the East.”

The Master’s eyes brightened. “You have it, too,” he said. “The fatal fascination of the press. I sometimes think that ink is a curse, that it lures men on when nothing else in this life interests them. I, indeed, am one such, caught in this folly. Yet, I would not have it otherwise. Write, I cannot. The gift of words has not been given me. But I have the desire, the madness–call it what you will–to print the words of others. To keep alive in the world the thought of thinking men, to spread abroad ideas that enliven and elevate.”

p.189-190

Eric P. Kelly’s style of writing is somewhat florid and overly dramatic; however, he is dealing with dramatic events: the rise of the printing press, the evil of deviltry and superstition, and the sack of Antwerp in 1576, also called the Spanish Fury and known as the greatest massacre in Belgian history. If you’ve read The Trumpeter of Krakow, the style of writing in this book is much the same as in that earlier book. It was off-putting at first, but as I persisted, I became quite engaged in the narrative. It’s not a time or series of events in history that I knew anything about, and I’m glad to have read about it in Mr. Kelly’s book.

Prairie Fires by Caroline Fraser

Feb27

I just finished reading Prairie Fires: The American Dreams of Laura Ingalls Wilder by Caroline Fraser, and although I think the biographer has some underlying assumptions and biases about politics and history that I would not agree with, I still recommend the book. I thought it quite insightful, and it provided background and details that I did not know before about Ms. Wilder’s life.

The book spends as much time on the biography of Laura Ingalls Wilder’s only surviving child, Rose Lane Wilder, as it does on Laura’s life. Perhaps because their lives were so intertwined, the daughter and the mother come across as enmeshed in a somewhat dysfunctional relationship that nevertheless produced several wonderful and classic books. In spite of Rose’s mostly negative influence, Laura Ingalls Wilder’s philosophy of life shines through the books. Garth Williams, the second and most famous illustrator of the Little House books, wrote this about Ms. Wilder after meeting her on her farm in Missouri:

She understood the meaning of hardship and struggle, of joy and work, of shyness and bravery. She was never overcome by drabness or squalor. She never glamorized anything; yet she saw the loveliness in everything. 

Prairie Fires, p. 263-264

The same could not be said for her daughter.

In fact, even though I read A Wilder Rose: Rose Wilder Lane, Laura Ingalls Wilder, and their Little Houses by Susan Wittig Albert, a fictionalized account of Laura Ingalls Wilder and her daughter Rose and their somewhat stormy collaboration in writing the Little House books, and I knew that Rose was a difficult person, I didn’t really realize how very unstable she was. Fraser blames Rose’s outbursts and tantrums and trail of broken relationships on childhood trauma and possible mental illness. However, the childhood trauma rationale seems like an excuse rather than a reason. Laura Ingalls Wilder, the mother, endured much more and much worse than Rose ever did, and Laura, while not a perfect person, was certainly more mentally stable and plain likable than Rose ever was.

So, partly because of what I read in this biography, I am considering removing the two books (of three that he wrote) that I have in my library by Roger Lea MacBride, fictionalized sequels to the Little House books about Rose Wilder Lane’s childhood in Missouri. MacBride was Rose Wilder Lane’s protege and heir, and he seems to have been something of a sycophant and a leech. I don’t know that there’s anything wrong with his books, but I also don’t know that they are worth keeping. Perhaps I should pass them on to someone else. I haven’t read the books by MacBride, and since people occasionally ask for them and I got them donated, I added them to the library. But now, I’m wondering. Has anyone here read the MacBride books? Are they well written? Worth keeping?

Scots and All Things Scottish on Robbie Burns Day

Jan25

I thought I’d link to some old posts about books set in Scotland and plan to read a few new ones in honor of Robert Burns Day, b. January 25, 1759.

  • I’d like to read some of the books from this list:
  • Scottish Chiefs by Jane Porter.
  • The Master of Ballantrae by Robert Louis Stevenson. Set in Scotland during the Jacobite Revolution of 1745 and its aftermath.
  • Mrs. Tim Gets a Job by D.E. Stevenson.
  • The Fields of Bannockburn by Donna Fletcher Crow.
  • Martin Farrell by Janni Howker.
  • Waverley by Sir Walter Scott. A young English dreamer and soldier, Edward Waverley, is sent to Scotland in 1745, into the heart of the Jacobite uprising.
  • Rob Roy by Sir Walter Scott. I read about half of this one, but found it hard going.
  • Valiant Minstrel: The Story of Harry Lauder by Gladys Malvern. Sir Harry Lauder was a vaudeville singer and comedian from Scotland.
  • Sir Gibbie by George MacDonald.
  • Highland Rebel by Sally Watson.
  • The King’s Swift Rider by Mollie Hunter.
  • Scottish Seas by Douglas M. Jones III.
  • The Flowers of the Field by Elizabeth Byrd.
  • In Freedom’s Cause: A Story of Wallace and Bruce by GA Henty.
  • Meggy MacIntosh: A Highland Girl in the Carolina Colony by Elizabeth Gray Vining.
  • Mary Queen of Scots and The Murder of Lord Darnley by Alison Weir.

Then, here are some Scottish flavored books I’ve read but not reviewed here at Semicolon. I remember all of these as books I would recommend:
Immortal Queen by Elizabeth Byrd. Historical romance about Mary, Queen of Scots.


The Iron Lance by Stephen Lawhead.
The 39 Steps by John Buchan.
Beside the Bonnie Brier Bush by Ian MacLaren.. A collection of stories of church life in a glen called Drumtochty in Scotland in the 1800’s. Recommended.
The Little Minister by J.M. Barrie. I get this one mixed up in my head with The Bonnie Brier Bush because both are set in rural Scotland among church people, and both are good. Also recommended.
The Princess and the Goblin by George MacDonald.
The Princess and Curdie by George MacDonald.
The Queen’s Own Fool by Jane Yolen. Mary, Queen of Scots again.

Recommended by other friends and bloggers:
The Tartan Pimpernel by Donald Caskie. Reviewed by Barbara at Stray Thoughts.
Robert Burns’ poetry, highlighted at Stray Thoughts.
Thistle and Thyme by Sorche Nic Leodhas. I actually have this collection of Scottish folktales in my library.
Heather and Broom by Sorche Nic Leodhas.
Claymore and Kilt : Tales of Scottish Kings and Castles by Sorche Nic Leodhas.
The Scotswoman by Inglis Fletcher.
Guns in the Heather by Lockhart Amerman.
The Gardener’s Grandchildren by Barbara Willard.
Duncan’s War (Crown and Covenant #1) by Douglas Bond.
Outlaws of Ravenhurst by M. Imelda Wallace.
Quest for a Maid by Frances May Hendry.
Little House in the Highlands by Melissa Wiley.
Bonnie Dundee by Rosemary Sutcliff. “The beginnings of the Jacobite rebellion when King James fled to Holland.”
The Stronghold by Mollie Hunter.
The Lothian Run by Mollie Hunter.
The Three Hostages by John Buchan. Recommended by Carol at Journey and Destination.
Scotland’s Story by H.E. Marshall.

Movies set in Scotland:
Brigadooon. I like this one partly because of Gene Kelly, partly because it takes place in Scotland, and partly because Eldest Daughter was in a local production of Brigadoon several years ago.
Stone of Destiny. Recommended by HG at The Common Room. I enjoyed this movie based on a true incident in 1950 when four Scots student stole the Stone of Scone from Westminster Abbey and returned it to Scotland from whence it came back in the thirteenth century.
Braveheart. William Wallace and all that jazz.

Scots poetry:
Young Lochinvar by Sir Walter Scott.
From Marmion by Sir Walter Scott.
My Luve’s Like a Red, Red Rose by Robert Burns.
In the Prospect of Death by Robert Burns.
Lament for Culloden by Robert Burns.
Beneath the Cross of Jesus by Elizabeth Clephane.
O Love That Wilt Not Let Me Go by George Matheson.

The Thing Around Your Neck by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

Aug30

Our family–me, some of my adult children and their spouses–are participating in a book club together this year. We’re taking turns choosing a book a month. The July book was The Glass Hotel by Emily St. John Mandel. It was a novel about a Ponzi scheme and the people who become enmeshed in it, both before and after the scheme goes bust. In August we read a book of short stories, The Thing Around Your Neck by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie who also wrote the novels Purple Hibiscus, Half of a Yellow Sun, and Americanah. She is a good writer, and although I always enjoy full length novels more than I do short stories, these stories were well worth the read.

I started a couple of weeks ago and read one story each night before bedtime. It was a good way to digest a book of seemingly unrelated short stories that are at least somewhat tied together by theme if not characters or plot. Reading only one story at a time gave me an opportunity to reflect and learn from each one.

The stories are about cultural encounter and clash between men and women, parents and children, Christian and Muslim, younger and older generations, modern and ancient, Nigeria and the United States. For the most part the tone and the outlook of each story are rather bleak. With one exception, the cultural and generational encounters in each of the stories are fraught with misunderstanding and even tragedy. In the first story “Cell One” a young man learns a lesson when he is imprisoned for a few days. In the second, “Imitation”, a properly submissive young wife confronts her husband’s blatant adultery. Another story is about a black woman from Nigeria who becomes the girlfriend and lover of a white man in Hartford, Connecticut. As in the other stories, the romance/story ends sadly, not with bang but rather a whimper.

The one story that shows two people coming to some sort of bridge of cultures is called “A Private Experience.” Two women are trapped together in a small store by violence and riots in the streets of a small market village in Nigeria. One is a Hausa Muslim woman, a mother; the other is a young Christian college student from the city. They are different is so many ways: economic status, religion, age, experience. And yet as they are thrown together, the two learn to trust and help each other, and they survive. This tale, too, does not have a happy ending, and yet there is a spark of hope in the patient endurance of the Muslim woman and the awakening understanding and empathy of the young Christian student.

And on it goes. A Nigerian nanny misunderstands the actions of her artist employer. A young wife whose son has died is applying for asylum in the United States, but she is unable to explain the complexities of her situation to the customs official who is taking her application. There’s a Cain and Abel story featuring a girl and her older, favored brother. Two Africans in college housing become friends and bond over their grievances about past lovers in spite of their differing religious perspectives. An arranged marriage sours very quickly.

Then, the last and culminating story , “The Headstrong Historian”, tells of a grandmother and the granddaughter who carries on her strength and cultural awareness even though the interceding generation has been Christianized and diminished by white colonization. In all of these stories, when it appears, Christianity is dour and powerless, never a fulfillment of African destiny and understanding, but rather a threat to the deep roots of African greatness or an empty husk to be discarded in the wake of modern twentieth century wisdom. This story begins when the grandmother is young in the late nineteenth century, immersed in African thought patterns and African religion and African community life. The next generation, the son and his wife, accept Christianity, Catholicism, and are made weak and pitiful and rigid by the tenets of the new religion. Then, finally comes the granddaughter, a new, educated, strong woman who learns her true history and goes back to her roots “reimagining the lives and smells of her grandmother’s world.” She writes a book, subtitled A Reclaimed History of Southern Nigeria. But nothing in the story indicates that the granddaughter understands the darker elements of attempted murder and revenge and slavery and mistreatment of women that form part of her history just as much as the depredations of colonialism. The granddaughter changes her name from Grace to Afamefuna, “My Name Will Not Be Lost”, but I wonder if she really knows the meaning and background of her new-old name.

The Darkness and the Dawn by Thomas B. Costain

Nov2

I also developed a great taste for all the fiction I could get about the ancient world: Quo Vadis, Darkness and Dawn, The Gladiators, Ben Hur. It might be expected that this arose out of my new concern for my religion, but I think not. Early Christians came into many of these stories, but they were not what I was after. I simply wanted sandals, temples, togas, slaves, emperors, galleys, amphitheatres; the attraction, as I now see, was erotic, and erotic in rather a morbid way. And they were mostly, as literature, rather bad books. 

~C.S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy

I’m not sure what Lewis meant by “erotic”. Perhaps he simply meant sensationalist or appealing to the emotions. I’m not at all sure any of these novels could be called erotic in the same sense as 50 Shades of Grey is erotic, but perhaps I’m not picking up on some nuance of the definition of the word. At any rate, C.S. Lewis didn’t think The Darkness and the Dawn was a terribly good book, and I tend to agree with him. But still, it was an interesting look at a time and a place about which there is very little historical fiction to be read.

The book features horses, battles, Roman legions, Attila the Hun, a girl with golden hair, and a hero who fights to win her. If it reminded me of anything I had read before, it was Stephen Lawhead’s Byzantium, a book with many of the same themes and a similar setting (Europe, Dark Ages) minus Attila aka the Scourge of God. There’s a lot scheming, political plotting, battles, narrow escapes, rebellion, and romance as well as all of the things that Lewis mentions as attractions for his teenage reading life.

The Romans are predictably decadent and ripe for being conquered. Attila is portrayed as a shrewd but barbaric and harsh king, out to conquer the world and subject all men to his bidding. (As an aside, I don’t really understand why power is such an addictive narcotic. Why did Attila, Alexander, Julius Caesar and countless others want to rule the world? Why doesn’t Donald Trump just resign? I think I would just quit at some point, but maybe that’s because I’ve never had enough power for it to go to my head.)

Nicolan, the hero of the story, begins as the son of a back country horse breeder, is sold into slavery, and becomes the trusted and gifted advisor to Attila himself. At a critical juncture in the story, Nicolan embraces his Christian heritage and struggles with what that commitment means to his desire for revenge and his place as a military advisor. If you have ” a taste for all the fiction . . . about the ancient world,” you could do worse than pick up The Darkness and the Dawn, not an enduring classic literary novel, but a decent read nevertheless. And it’s not really “erotic” so don’t go in expecting that.

The Ox-Bow Incident by Walter Van Tilburg Clark

Oct21

I just finished reading this classic Western novel by Nevada author Walter Clark, and I am amazed that I have never heard it strongly recommended before now. It’s quite a story, and if I were going back to teaching American literature for high school or college, I would try very to include The Ox-Bow Incident as part of the required reading. My immediate impression is that it ranks up there with Huck Finn and The Great Gatsby as one of the Great American Novels.

I have heard of the book before. I had a vague impression that it had something to do with a hanging or a lynching, and it does. But it’s really a psychological study of peer pressure and mob justice and all the different reactions that we have to sin and guilt and getting caught up in something that we know is wrong. One character, the narrator, is The Observer, similar to Nick in The Great Gatsby. Also like Nick Carraway, Ox-Bow’s narrator Art Croft is a peacemaker, a fellow who’s busy looking out for the other guy, trying in an unobtrusive way to make sure things don’t get out of control. And he’s everybody’s confessor. Several of the men in the novel tell Art their deepest thoughts and fears and sins. And yet Art Croft isn’t just an observer after all; he’s complicit in the extra-judicial murder that is the climax of the story.

There are a lot of characters to keep straight in this book: twenty-eight men are a part of the lynch mob that goes after a trio of alleged cattle rustlers and murderers. Then, there are the men who don’t accompany the lynch mob: the bartender, the judge, the preacher. And there are the accused rustlers themselves. And although the author doesn’t tell us about all of the twenty-eight mob members, he does characterize about ten of them enough so that they all become full characters in the reader’s mind:

Gil, who is Art’s buddy, a good-natured fighter, quick to take offense and quick to make up and forget.

Davies, the lawyer/scholar, who tries to stop the lynch mob in every possible way except for the one way that will work.

Preacher Osgood, a rather cowardly man, who says the right things but can’t convince anyone of his sincerity or his authority.

Tetley, the ex-Confederate officer who takes over leadership of the mob and infuses them all with deadly purpose.

Farnley, the friend of the man who has been reported shot, Kincaid. Farnley is singleminded and completely cold in his pursuit of revenge.

Winder, an old stagecoach driver who believes all of his and everyone else’s troubles can be accredited to the railroad’s takeover of the West.

Young Tetley, Tetley’s son, who looks like his dead mother and acts like a crazy person and laments the weak and predatory nature of all men while participating in an act that he knows is an example of that evil nature.

There are more, and none of them are cardboard, one-dimensional characters. I was so impressed with the author’s ability to write about real people placed in a situation that brought out the worst in all of them, in different ways. Anyway, I do recommend this novel for anyone who’s interested in the themes of mob rule and politics and persuasion and groupthink and judgment and guilt and responsibility. (There’s probably more in there that I have yet to think about. I’m going to be mulling over this one for a while.)

And now since I just read this Western novel, and I recently read a couple of novels by Western author Elmer Kelton, I’m going to make a list of the ten best Westerns I’ve ever read. And I’d be curious to know what Western novels (novels set in the U.S. West, nineteenth century or early twentieth century) you would recommend as the best of the genre.

In no particular order:

1. The Ox-Bow Incident by Walter Van Tilburg Clark.

2. The Time It Never Rained by Elmer Kelton.

3. Shane by Jack Schaeffer.

4. My Antonia by Willa Cather. I’ve been told that Song of the Lark, also by Cather is even better, but I haven’t read it yet.

5. News of the World by Paulette Jiles.

6. Wait for Me, Watch for Me, Eula Bee by Patricia Beatty. Middle grade fiction, but good for adults, too. In fact, I recommend all of Ms. Beatty’s novels, many of which are set in the old West.

7. The Edge of Time by Louella Grace Erdman.

8. Where the Broken Heart Still Beats by Carolyn Meyer. YA fiction about Indian captive Cynthia Ann Parker.

9. True Grit by Charles Portis. Need to re-read, but I remember it was good.

10. Sea of Grass by Conrad Richter. Ditto, need to re-read.

I haven’t read Riders of the Purple Sage by Zane Grey (or anything else by this acclaimed author), and I haven’t read Hondo by Louis L’Amour, although I have read other L’Amour novels and not been too impressed. I absolutely hated Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry. So, what do you think are the ten best Westerns that you have read, or what one or more would you add to my list?

The Best Western Novels from The Western Writers of America.

21 Western Novels Every Man Should Read.

The Borrowed House by Hilda van Stockum

Oct10

Janna is proud of her membership in the Hitler Youth. She’s proud of her parents, famous actors, who have left Janna in Germany while they tour and entertain the troops of the Reich. Janna is also proud of having been chosen to play Brunhilde in the upcoming play that her youth group is going to perform, the story of Siegfried and Brunhilde from Hitler’s favorite opera by Wagner. Most of all, Janna is proud to be German and Aryan, and not a member of those inferior Jewish or Slavic races.

The Borrowed House is a young adult story, not because it’s about a teenager; Janna is only twelve years old in the book. And it’s not YA because of explicit sex or even violence, although there is some of the latter as the author describes the violence against Jews and others in Holland where Janna goes to join her parents. The Borrowed House is YA because it deals with mature themes of racism and indoctrination and trust and adultery in a way that is nuanced and complicated and respectful of the maturity of its audience. Janna is an unusual twelve year old, and she sees and understands things that most twelve year olds wouldn’t even think about. And there is a developing romance between twelve year old Janna and an older resident of the borrowed house that Janna and her parents live in. Nothing explicit or illicit, but the romantic subtext is there.

Maybe you should read this one yourself before handing it to your child, because first of all, it won’t be the right book for every young person. And secondly, The Borrowed House is one of those rare novels that adults can appreciate just as well as teens can. The book gives a lot insight into the way the German civilians looked at the war and at Herr Hitler as well as the privations and persecution and courage of the Dutch and Jewish people in Holland during World War II.

Republished by Purple House Press in 2016, this World War II novel is an excellent story and a definite discussion starter. Just think carefully about who would appreciate it properly and at what age.The writing and subject matter and characterization remind me a little bit of Madeleine L’Engle’s young adult novels. If you’ve read and enjoyed A Winter’s Love or The Small Rain by L’Engle, then The Borrowed House has about the same maturity level with some similar themes.

Firestorm by Robb White

Oct9

Robb White was the son of Episcopalian missionaries, but his stories are stories of adventure and war and survival. Mr. White is listed in Jan Bloom’s book, Who Should We Then Read?, A Busy Reader’s Concise Guide to the Best Authors of Living Books, Volume 2, and well he should be. I have read three or four of Robb White’s novels, and I was absorbed by each one of the ones that I have been able to find.

Firestorm is about a forest fire. It’s a short book, only 111 pages, but it’s perfect for reluctant but intelligent readers. The plot and characters and the ending are all surprising and give the reader food for thought. I was especially moved to think about what I would do in similar circumstances, as a boy and the forest ranger who believes him to be an arsonist are trapped together in a ring of fire that threatens to kill both of them.

I gave this book to Engineer Husband to read, and he was fascinated, too. I can’t tell much more, no spoilers, but this brief story reads like an excellent short story or novella with the same punch you would find in a well-written short story. I highly recommend.

If you like this one, you might also enjoy:

Up Periscope by Robb White.

Deathwatch by Robb White. Another survival story, this 1972 novel about a boy surviving in the desert while being hunted and hounded by a predatory criminal was both exciting and absorbing.

If you find any more Robb White books (he wrote quite a few), grab them, and if you don’t want them, then send them my way.