Title: Paradise Vue
Author: Kathryn H. Kidd
Hatrack River Publications (North Carolina), 1989.
Trade paperback, 205 pages, $6.95 (US)
(Reviewed by Scott Parkin, July 11, 1997)
Certain books are mentioned automatically when you talk about Mormon literature, including Levi Peterson’s The Backslider, Maureen Whipple’s The Giant Joshua, and Paradise Vue by Kathryn Kidd.
So it was with both trepidation and anticipation that picked this book up. Anticipation at a book that has been recommended by people who I trust; trepidation because I have a tendency to not like cute stories about Mormon wards — I find them simplistic and often unkind, and generally have a problem with them as literature.
I was pleasantly surprised when I read Paradise Vue.
The story centers around Amy, recently called as the Homemaking counsellor in the Relief Society presidency of the Paradise Vue ward, nestled on the east bench in Salt Lake City. Amy may be the worst homemaker in history and cannot comprehend why she has been called. She is a widow with a disaster area for a home. But she is also an honest, caring person who learns a lot about herself and others as she is forced to interact with the women of her ward. The Paradise Vue ward is full of eccentric people who represent the gamut of traditional Mormon types, so Amy’s life becomes quite interesting and difficult.
This may be the best written Mormon book I have read, at least in terms of being clean and easy to read, with a rich descriptive style and clear authorial tone that vividly described without drawing attention to itself. It’s the closest thing to the slick, polished, functionally invisible prose that I admire in many national market books. Where appropriate, the prose waxed remarkably eloquent; otherwise it was clear and readable.
Perhaps I noticed the clean prose more because I had just finished a book that featured absolutely terrible prose, but Kidd deserves a hand for writing a story that does not rely on rural affectations or literary bent to justify its prose. Good stuff.
The book focuses on three characters and draws them well. Yes, each of the main characters is a standard type of the Mormon experience, but they are real types with enough uniqueness to make them interesting. We see them struggle and grow as they are stretched by experience and turmoil and doubt. Nearly every other character in the book is a popular Mormon stereotype, from the pathological gossip who’s lost her grip on the truth, to the pompous councelor in the bishopric, to the widower on the hunt for a wife for his herd of children.
This is what scared me most as I approached this book. It is very easy to become snide and condescending when creating stereotypes of any group, and as every new one was introduced, I cringed a bit, waiting for the slams on Mormon culture that I knew must inevitably follow.
But the slams never came.
Kidd has managed to write a book that lovingly looks at some of the foibles of Mormon culture without going over into camp or apology. Because the story is told from the point of view of an imperfect, though honestly striving character, the stereotypes became not objects of ridicule but objects of discovery and acceptance. Against a backdrop of green jello and macaroni salad, Kidd tell a story that enriches and enlightens at the same time that it entertains. And she doesn’t stop with petty issues, but explores relationships, pride, and ambition, as well. It’s all you can ask for in a story.
Not every plot thread resolved happily. There were disappointments and petty jealousies as well as discoveries and success. Good people suffered, and deeply flawed people prospered. Sometimes ill feelings turned out to be justified. In other words, despite the preponderance of stereotypical characters, the overall story resonated as true.
Perhaps my only complaint about this otherwise excellent book may come down to my gender. This book was written for Mormon women, and looks at things in a clearly feminine manner. This did not cause me a problem until the very end of the book.
SPOILER ALERT! I’M ABOUT TO TALK ABOUT A MAJOR ASPECT OF PLOT. SPOILER ALERT!
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Alex Roundy, the relief society president who asked for Amy as a councillor, is struggling with a possibly unfaithful husband. She suspects, but she doesn’t really want to know, so she pretends not to notice. During thecourse of the story, Alex offers the theory that women put men at the center of their lives and all other interests become satellites to that man, concentric circles that are fully connected. Men, on the other hand,compartmentalize their lives and can separate what happens in one area from what happens in another; a problem in one area is not connected to other areas of their lives.
The story ends with Alex finally seeking proof of her husband’s infidelity, believing that it will relieve the tension that dominates her life. Whenshe finds that proof, she discovers that it resolves nothing, and finally confronts him with it. He leaves, and it’s clear that the problem will not resolve easily. Alex stays at Amy’s house that night, along with the other Relief Society councelor, Bess, and has the following exchange:
“Alex’s eyes were red from crying. She held her mug and watched the marshmallows melt together. ‘Last night, before Ethan left, he told me that the vow that binds too tightly snaps itself. What does that mean?’ . . . Bess blew on her chocolate to cool it. ‘I think it means he’s looking for an excuse to play around. He’s chafing against his marriage vows and he’s blaming the vows instead of himself.”
. . . ‘But we were married forever.‘”
Later on . . . “After a few minutes Alex said, ‘Maybe Ethan was right. If I’d trusted him, maybe he wouldn’t have left me.'” (pages 195-197)
Then, in the concluding scene, from Amy’s POV: “Alex suspected Ethan was being unfaithful, and she wanted confirmation of that. She got her confirmation, but when she lost faith in Ethan it ruined her marriage.” (page 202)
Understanding the theory of relationships stated earlier, and understanding that women often think differently about things than men, this ending jarred me. How can Alex take responsibility for her husband’s sin? He was already ripe in his sin before Alex finally looked for proof of what was already clearly obvious. Her faith or lack thereof was periferal to what Ethan did, purely on his own. (Which may actually prove Kidd’s thesis about separation of interests for men, and integration of interests for women — at least for me.)
It wouldn’t have bothered me to have Alex believe this; but having Amy confirm it as fact at the end took it out of the character’s story and put it into the author’s story, changed it to a “point” of the book and forced me to evaluate whether I believed it. And I just can’t agree with that point. Which jarred me in a story that otherwise resonated strongly. I accept that Alex believes it, but I don’t accept it as true. It made me wonder if the story I read was really the same thing as the story the author told, and that left me feeling quite unsettled.
Is this a gender issue, a fundamentally incompatible view of how men and women see relationships and the world, illustrated in a powerful story? Or is it the author’s private heresy, a departure from knowable Mormon doctrine that recasts the entire book in a new light? Is there a difference? Does it matter?
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END SPOILER ALERT! WE NOW RETURN TO PLOT-NEUTRAL PROGRAMMING. END SPOILER ALERT!
Other than a potentially gender-linked confusion at how this novel ended, I can find nothing to criticize, and that one issue is a matter of individual preference and personal philosophy, not craft or delivery.
Paradise Vue is an unmitigated success as Mormon story, human story, and entertainment that proves that it is possible to tell a deeply Mormon story that resonates as true to readers as human beings. The writing is clean andreadable, the plotting and pacing smooth, even, and interesting. The characters are real and the humor stays loving even as it opens some of Mormon culture’s most embarrassing aspects to public view.
This is a good book and well worth the effort, money, and time spent to read it. It is fun, but deals with real issues. A winner.