This is the sixth “New Voices” collection of reviews from Shelah Miner’s Mormon Literature students at BYU-Salt Lake. These four reviews are from the second assignment, reviews of “literary novels” by Mormon authors. The reviewers are Jacob Covey (Summer Fire by Douglas Thayer), Sherrie Goaslind (The Tree House by Douglas Thayer), Emily Cutler (Mile 21 by Sarah Dunster), and Marcus Russell (The Death of a Disco Dancer by David Clark). Please be encouraging towards the students, most of whom are new to college-level writing assignments.
Reviewed by Jacob Covey
Before cracking open this book all I knew was that it was a story about a young boy from Provo growing up in the mid 1900’s. I decided to read it because both of my parents and some of my grandparents grew up in Provo and I was interested to learn a bit more of what it was like. In the end I didn’t really learn much about old Provo, but the book taught other powerful lessons. Although the book was slow and bland at times, in the end it was worth reading because it has thought provoking stories about a boy growing up during a summer job.
The book starts out with fifteen-year old Owen and his seventeen-year old cousin Randy. Thayer never tells us what year it was set in, my best guess would be somewhere in the 1940’s. Randy and Owen are at the Provo Greyhound station saying goodbye to their families. They are off to spend the summer working on a ranch in the Las Vegas area. Owen, the narrator, is a strait-laced Eagle Scout and Mormon boy. He enjoys going to seminary, reading books about anything educational, and his biggest focus is not breaking any commandments (up this point he believes that he has not broken a single commandment his whole life.) Randy is quite different than his cousin. Randy is your common high school guy. He is very laid back and his life revolves around cars and girls.
By chapter 3 Owen and Randy are out on the farm working hard every day. The owner of ranch lives in the Las Vegas so Owen and Randy mostly interacted with the housekeeper Mrs. Cummins and the rough permanent workers Staver, Stan and Frank. Both Randy and Owen enjoy their time on the ranch. Owen enjoys it because he enjoys working hard and saving money for his mission and for medical school. Randy enjoys it because he likes being with the older workers. By the end the summer Owen develops a little humility and become more understanding of others. Randy gets completely caught up in trying to be like the other guys, he picks up bad habits and on his last night on the ranch the guys take him to Las Vegas for a big poker game that he had been practicing for all summer long. He ends up getting drunk that night, losing a lot of money and losing his virginity as well.
The biggest weaknesses of the book would be its slow pace and repetitive nature. About 70% of the book goes just about like this: Owen wakes up and gets Randy to come with him to have breakfast and get out on the ranch. During the day Owen sees something that reminds him of a book he once read, he describes the book and shows off his trivial knowledge. Sometime during work Staver makes fun of Owen and it makes him really upset. After they are done working, Owen unsuccessfully tries to convince Randy not to play poker with the other workers. Owen ends up going and swimming in the river by himself and thinking about home and how much he has grown. If you mix in three fires on nearby ranches that they help out with, and a handful of times that Owen beats himself up for making some dumb mistake while working on the ranch, that pretty much describes the whole 258 pages of the book.
The greatest strengths of the book would be the realness of characters and the book’s ability to take you into the mind of a fifteen-year old Mormon kid who has become exactly who his church leaders are trying to shape him to be. First let’s talk about the characters. All the characters in the book feel very real and consistent. The most interesting character has to be Staver. Throughout the book he is consistently inconsistent. The whole time you are trying to figure out whether you like him or whether you hate him. At times you feel like he is a pretty good guy with a few bad habits who is helping these boys turn into men. Other times it seems like he is trying to get them to develop the same addictions and shortcomings he has. All the characters are drawn well and I would suspect that Thayer based them off actual people from his life.
What I enjoyed most about the book was its ability to put me into the mind of Owen. It made me really ponder on what local church leaders and community member are often unknowingly shaping young men into. I believe that Owen is a perfect example of what a young Aaronic priesthood holder would be like if he took everything that was taught to him at face value and focused on what was most taught and talked about by his local church leaders. Owen is a Young Men’s leader’s dream come true. He so committed to keeping the commandments that he keeps a list of the commandments that he occasionally looks through to make sure he is keeping all them. Owen is very obedient and he even tries to share the gospel, but it does not seem to be for the right reasons. Most of what he does seems to be out of a selfish intent. He also is very judgmental and doesn’t seem to care too much about other people.
At first I did not care for Owen. I felt that he only cared about himself, but the more I thought about it the more sympathy I had for him. Owen is simply doing the things and becoming the person that he has been taught to be. Although I am sure he had been taught about loving everyone and not being judgmental, I doubt those lessons came nearly as often or with as much emphasis as lessons about on the law of chastity, word of wisdom, having clean language, and serving a mission. Adults in the church focus most of their attention with youth on obedience, and honestly it’s hard to blame them. At the end of the book I remember thinking to myself ‘I would rather have my son be a self-centered Peter Priesthood like Owen, than a rebellious kid like Randy who gambles, gets drunk and loses his virginity to a prostitute all in one night.’ Its human nature to fear the worst, and many parents would think of what happened to Randy as their worst fear for their child. This causes parents and leaders to put all focus on making those things not happen. Sadly this can leave out some very important parts of the gospel. After reading this book one can’t help but wonder, do I want to raise my boys to be like Owen or to be different.
I would suggest Summer Fire to anyone who is currently parenting or plans on someday parenting boys, as long as they can handle a slow pace and a good amount of repetition. Thayer’s realistic characters give readers real insights on how to work with other people. What the book lacks in entertainment it makes up for in meaning. I think the insights I have gained from this book will affect the way I raise my future children.
The Tree House by Douglas Thayer
Reviewed by Sherrie Goaslind
I was intrigued to see how a recent literary fiction novel about a happy 14-year-old boy living in a quiet Mormon community could appeal to readers today. No custody battles, drugs, suicide or gender issues are in this story. Will it have the same appeal as the likes of Pride and Prejudice or Little Women, when life was much simpler? Harris Thatcher “had everything a boy could want. Nothing terrible had ever happened to him or his family . . . Sixth Ward was the best ward in Provo and … Luke was the best friend he could ever have… Harris didn’t want anything to ever change.” But it did. Harris grew up in Provo, Utah, just after the end of WWII. The streets and churches now held bigger-than-life war veterans who had defeated the Nazis. Young boys dreamed of going off to war as much as old men sought for peace.
Though the story is fiction, both the main character and the author share much in common. Both served missions in Germany after World War II, and each spent time in the military and grew up in Provo, hunting and fishing and playing in the streets. Harris is the kind of kid that could have easily been depicted in a Norman Rockwell painting on cover of the Saturday Evening Post. It was a time that if a boy got into trouble it was only a harmless boyish concern. Young men wanted to be soldiers, marry and have a family.
Before the television and electronic devices, tree houses were the envy of the neighborhood. Harris had the distinction of having the best tree house ever seen; his father had built it for him. Even at 14, Harris would climb to the top and look out on the city and ponder about life. Harris’ dad was a schoolteacher, allowing the two of them to spend the summers together shooting, fishing, swimming and just being with each other. He loved his dad, and never really got over losing him to diabetes. Harris’ dad liked to enjoy life, food, fun and peaceful living of a simple life. While his dad tried to give him everything important for a young man to be happy, his best friend Luke had something he wanted more than anything else: faith. It been handed down to Luke, generation after generation, from his forefathers. Harris’ dad couldn’t help him with faith, Harris didn’t think his dad had it. Harris wondered if he would ever have the faith needed to be the kind of Mormon he hoped to become. He felt his faith waiver as he struggled through one tragedy after another. Luke’s faith was always strong, always burning bright.
Though the story often feels too good to be true, Harris’s innocence enables the author to tell the things Harris sees and feels in a way that is raw and new. I’ve never served a mission, but following Harris through Germany was a realistic depiction of what I think a real mission would be like. Thayer does a great job; I loved it. The mission section could help anyone be a better missionary by reading his story.
While serving in Germany, Harris falls in love with the German language and his mission. He becomes the most successful missionary in the mission, despite never gaining the faith he thinks is needed. He reflects, “if his father had helped him more to gain a testimony, it would have made his mission easier…He wanted to know, not just feel that the gospel is true.” Despite his faith, Harris’s life forever changed by his mission and particularly by the woman that rented a bedroom out to Harris and his companion. They slept in the bedroom of her two sons who had been killed in the war. Mrs. Meyer was educated and widely read, and thought deeply. “She was such an unusual woman, a gifted teacher. He’d always thought you had to be religious to be good, but he now knew this was not true.”
Though Harris succeeded in everything he did because of his character and goodness, misfortune came around every corner. Shortly after he returned home from his mission he was drafted into the Korean War. Korea turned out to be the unraveling for Harris. He had reached his capacity to endure his losses and difficulties. I won’t spoil it and tell you all the disappointments and tragedy that happen to him; you probably wouldn’t believe it. Korea started with soldiers ridiculing him at boot camp, making it really hard for a Mormon to practice his beliefs. Harris took off his garments to avoid questions and skipped his prayers and scriptures also. He bunked with a mean solider that picked on him because of his religion. Harris turns out to be an excellent solider. (He seems to do everything in his life in an excellent manner.) He risks his life and gets shot, and comes home early because of an injury.
Though Harris experiences unimaginable trials, there is an oasis for him that is constant called the Starlite Café. This is one of my favorite parts of the book. Harris found a job after his dad dies to help with the finances at home and learns how to make the best pies in the community. He learned some of his most important life lessons from two strangers that are not even of his same faith. Harris worked hard at the Starlite café, and in return he was loved and mentored by surrogate parents—the woman who runs the café; and the war vet, Jack, a short order cook that played the banjo. Jack told him the stories a boy needed to hear and even helped him buy a car. Mrs. Hardy, the owner of the Starlite cafe, loved Harris and watched over him.
There is much to love in this novel. It feels incredibly deep and meaningful as Harris’ coming of age is chronicled; you can’t but fall in love with who he is. But sometimes the story seems to just skim the surface in attempt to cover ground quickly. Thayer has some choppy sentences that made me lose interest when they hit. Despite the few imperfections, the story ends with a much wiser Harris Thatcher. He begins to understand more about what his dad gave him as a young man. As Harris was finishing the details of selling his childhood home, the real estate agent helping him said, “The fruit trees, the big garden plot and berry patches [Harris’ father’s creation] and especially the tree house helped to sell the lot . . . whoever built the tree house knew what he was doing.” “Yes,” said Harris, “he did.” Harris finally seems at peace. He finds his faith again, starts a family of his own and learns from life’s difficult experiences. It seems that Harris has a new perspective, like when he used to climb the tree house and look out over Provo. Thayer leaves the reader to wonder, but I think that Harris was beginning to see that the faith he was seeking and never realizing was actually already his, he just didn’t see it.
Review by Emily Cutler
Abish Cavendish Miller is a spunky, precocious twenty-one-year-old who just can’t seem to catch a break. Raised in St. Anthony, she is currently living in Rexburg, Idaho where she works and attends school at BYU-I. Except she’s not quite like everyone else. She has gone through some extremely hard things within a few short years and, in a place where it seems everyone is striving to be the same, she sticks out like a sore thumb.
You see, she got married just under two years before the story opens and she has all of the suspicions in the world that her family does not approve of the marriage. They had high hopes of her following the path her Aunt Cindy, who went on a mission, has a very successful career and seems to be practically perfect in every way. But Abish found Mark, and the two were inseparable from the start. Sadly, tragedy struck just shy of their one-year anniversary and Mark dropped dead of a pulmonary embolism right in front of Abish. Now that horrific scene would be abysmal enough, but Mark and Abish were expecting their first child as well. The stress combined with a womb too fragile to handle much equaled an early delivery just three weeks after Mark’s death. Baby Amelia was too underdeveloped to survive, so Abish had to say goodbye to the last connection she had with Mark.
As the book opens, Abish is trying her hardest to stay afloat but just finds herself in constant trouble with her family, school, work and the law. Not only that, Abish is mostly going at it alone–the few people that try to help she keeps at an arm’s length. She has an embarrassing encounter with a man named Bob and his two kids. Abish’s mom gave Bob a key to her apartment where she was the manager of the complex. Bob and his two kids were in the kitchen when Abish woke up and stumbled out in her pajamas to meet her unexpected guests. As if being embarrassed wasn’t enough, through a series of events her mama kicks her out of the manager position and apartment. Her boss, who she affectionately nicknames “The Turd”, swoops in to the rescue and finds her a place to live in a singles ward where he just happens to be the Bishop.
After being married, living in a singles ward is counterintuitive and dating is definitely not on Abish’s radar. Her roommates seem very young and immature and the worries they have seem very petty and juvenile compared to what Abish is dealing with. To add insult to injury, Bob, the divorcee with two kids, is the executive secretary of the same ward. Because of their rocky start they have a hard time getting over the harsh words, feelings and first impressions they had towards one another. Eventually they come around to being friends because they have at least the camaraderie of being outcasts in common.
With some help from her bishop, Abish keeps her job, gets into school and starts to settle into her less than ideal life. She has a hard time making friends, not only because of her differences with just about everyone that exists in Rexburg, but also because she has an interesting way with words. One of her nicknames is “Honest Abe” and she just can’t seem to keep her mouth shut when witty comebacks come so naturally. One of my favorite examples of this is on page 38 when her sister is assessing how unhappy Abish is and she says, “Yeah, well, my husband kicked it a year ago. Not many twenty-one-year-old widows are happy, I’m guessing.” Her less than nice way of communicating labels her as harsh and even her roommates find it hard to be nice to her. But as a reader it is just so hard not to love and root for Abish.
The stress reliever she has found helps the most is running. Mark had taught Abish how to really love running and she uses it as her outlet at any opportunity she can. She signed up for the Ogden Marathon but she just couldn’t seem to break through the mental barrier of mile 21; hence the title of the book. Also she is twenty-one and not gracefully getting through that age either.
Through a series of events she lands herself in jail, mostly because she can’t seem to stay off of private property after hours. But through the help of her family, friends and her own gumption she pulls herself up and triumphs. She does go to the marathon and her dad ends up running with her through the hardest parts and she finishes! And of course, Bob, the man you grow to love throughout the story, swoops in at the perfect moment and they end up together.
I thoroughly enjoyed this book. I was immediately enthralled with Abish and invested in her cause. I found myself always wanting what was best for her. I felt like I connected with her. I have a similar personality and I felt the need to stand up for her when people were being harsh. One of the harshest things was when two kids in her singles ward ignored her at church and then one of them said, “Maybe you don’t really belong in single student housing (207).” She handles it so well and agrees because she doesn’t want to live there either. I just kept thinking “what nerve!” Poor Abish. I cried with her, laughed with her and I really felt like I gained a new friend and lots of perspective.
The story was so real. I could imagine things just as Sarah Dunster was describing them. Like on page 25 when she is describes the young married couples at church. I could just envision those why that would make the recently widowed Abish want to puke. I had a little trouble with the grammatical errors and wondered where the editor was a few times, but all in all it was a worthwhile read. It gave me a desire to be a better person and helped me gain perspective and understanding for those who are suffering.
I think this book fits well in a Mormon literary fiction category. It talks about some of the more raw subjects in the life of an LDS girl. Although the story does have a happy ending, it kept me guessing the whole way through to see if it would possibly, for once, work out well for Abish. I think it would be a good book for anyone to read and there is good to be gleaned from the thought process and feelings it puts the reader through.
The Death of a Disco Dancer by David Clark
Reviewed by Marcus Russell
The Death of A Disco Dancer is a very interesting read that addresses serious topics while also entertaining the reader with well-timed humor. The main character, Todd Whitman, reflects on when he was 11 years old and just about to start junior high. His LDS family living in Arizona combines basically every stereotype of a Mormon family that I can think of. From his dad being the Bishop and a doctor, to his 3 siblings, and of course the constant nagging from his mother to memorize the Articles of Faith. The Whitman family learns their Grandma Carter has been diagnosed with dementia and must live with them now because their grandpa is not equipped to take care of her.
This novel really captures the difficulties and toll that growing old can cause on families. Todd’s mom does her best to take care of Grandma Carter even as she becomes more and more delusional and ungrateful. The saddest point coming when her husband passes away and Grandma Carter doesn’t comprehend what is going on at his funeral. Despite these sad events, Todd frequently finds himself getting into trouble with his older brother Gregory and his friends. They hurl a bunch of oranges at an unsuspecting parking lot after a stake dance and flee the scene which results in Todd hiding in a dumpster for over an hour. Later, Todd is convinced to play the victim of a fake mugging but his crush, Jenny Gillette and her mom happened to be the car destined to ‘save’ him. He is then forced to talk his way out of the situation.
The story’s most interesting sections are Todd’s Grandma’s frequent visits in the middle of the night. Todd doesn’t alert his mom because he feels bad for all she does during the day to watch his Grandma, so instead Todd listens to her and her stories of “The Dancer” which is actually just her husband. It becomes clear to Todd that his Grandma is desperately trying to hang on to the past as her memories and mind fade. Grandma Carter starts teaching Todd how to dance, including The Foxtrot, Folk, and Swing. Todd and his Grandma develop a strong connection that is really only shared during the middle of the night visits. Todd continues to navigate adolescence and all of the awkwardness and uneasiness that comes with it. It all comes crashing down at “The Hello Dance” which is a welcome back to school dance put on for the incoming 7th graders during the first week of school. Todd’s crush, Jenny, asks him to dance during the last and only slow song. Todd is thrilled but unsure of what to do, so he begins dancing with her just the way his Grandmother taught him. He leads and guides her as he performs The Foxtrot. To his horror he is mocked and scorned by others as he performs these “old-fashioned” dance moves at a junior high dance. Todd’s life is surely over and during Grandma’s next nightly visit he tells her he is never dancing again. Grandma Carter responds calmly and motherly, but the late night visits cease and the book ends just as abruptly.
I really enjoyed reading this novel. It was hilarious and made me think of countless similar situations I experienced while growing up. He really digs into the family dynamics. He talks about his relationships with his older siblings, relationships with his parents and of course his relationship with his Grandma. The parts that made me laugh the most were those that incorporated aspects of the Church and family life together. For example, early in the story Todd is tormenting his sister by pretending he is a football player “It was a textbook Quarterback Sack from the blind side… ‘And num-bah se-ven-ty two-Too Tall Jones- the all pa-ro de-fen-sive end for the Da-llas Cowboys sacks Bi-llllee Kilmal again! This time in bone ca-rushing faa-shun!’ ‘I’M NOT BILLY KILMER!’ Maggie shrieked. Mom made it out of the kitchen and into the family room in record time. Seeing Maggie on the floor sobbing and drooling set Mom off. I got a serious lecture–the standard just-you-wait-until-your-father-gets-home warning and, more ominously, banishment to my room to work on memorizing the Articles of Faith”(Clark, 10). I could definitely relate to getting in trouble for messing with my siblings and the Articles of Faith punishment cracked me up because it is definitely something my parents ‘punished’ me with.
A couple of things that bothered me about the novel were how abruptly it ended. It was rather shocking; I felt as though there was much of the story untold. I actually looked for a sequel figuring there is no way the author ended the story the way he did. Although the ending really makes you reflect on your own family relationships, overall the ending aggravated me. Also, I did not like how at the beginning of almost every chapter Todd gives insights into his life as a 40 year old grown man. He talked about caring for his own dying mother, along with other things. Most of the time I read them and was confused as to what was happening because it did not flow or fit into the original story being told. I felt that explaining how these two stories intertwined would have worked better all at once instead of chopping it up throughout the book
Overall I would recommend this book, although it might appeal more to males as it does feature some teenage boy vulgarity. At the same time it includes lots of late night dance practices and the struggles of an adolescent trying to find his place in a large Mormon family and a new school, so this story can certainly appeal to a much larger audience. It is certainly not always about giggles and good times, as growing old and death are key topics. Todd’s Grandpa’s funeral it’s sad enough to bring most people to tears. The way that Clark captures life in a large Mormon family is mesmerizing, and the spot-on portrayals are laugh-out-loud funny.
My mom recommended I read “Summer Fire” when I was 15 or so. I didn’t finish it, like the reviewer, I was put off by the slow pace and the priggishness of the protagonist. Does Thayer write books about teens that appeal more to adults then teens?
Of these novels, the only one I’ve read is The Tree House (though Mile 21 and especially Death of a Disco Dancer are all on my to-read-someday list).
Although Thayer writes about the lives of young men growing up, I don’t think you’d ever call them young adult novels. I don’t get that sense that this is the demographic they’re reaching for, although I think there’s been some mis-marketing at times.
The premise of Mile 21 sounds intriguing. A lot of what are described as personality differences sound, to me, like differences in lived experience. An essay by Tom Rogers quotes the insight of a perceptive non-Mormon about BYU: “The people here are sincerely trying to be artificially better than they are.” There is, I think, a certain attitude among some young Mormons that sees unfamiliarity with the negative in life as a sign of virtue, that would be highly uncomfortable with someone their own age, in their midst, amid their social awkwardness and desperate attempts to discover who they are, who has *lived* so much more than they have. (A parallel, perhaps, to the kind of priggish naivete of the main character of Summer Fire?) It takes a lot of maturity to let go the masks and be who we really are: a kind of honesty that I suspect is simply impossible before we have internalized a certain amount of life experience.
That is a profound and wonderfully insightful take on the issue. I’ll be thinking on that for a while.
.
That first one might be my favorite review of Thayer ever. And I do like his fiction. (Short fiction—I haven’t read his novels.)
The last two novels are two of my favorites from recent years. Shelah, did you provide a list for them to choose from?