I really love
Mormonism, and I mean that in a completely earnest, non-ironic way.
I don’t believe in God
anymore, but I had a really formative Jesus
phase and I was mostly educated at religious institutions and nearly all my
close friends are very religious. This means that I tend to see the best in
religions without needing to take their supernatural claims seriously. So
while, duh, the golden plates that Joseph Smith found but would not show to
anyone were not real, and—obvi—the American Indians are not the descendants of
ancient Jews who sailed here from Jerusalem... Mormonism just appeals to me in
all its industriousness and boy-scoutishness. I love the American-ness of it. The idea that the Western United States is
sacred, and that the Garden of Eden was in wild Missouri just resonates with me as the beautiful
nonsense that it is.
I once wrote somewhere
in spitting distance of 75,000 terrible words of a novel about an American
religious leader based not-so-loosely on Joseph Smith the summer between my sophomore
and junior years of college.
Brady Udall’s The Lonely Polygamist is a fine book. It’s
about the head of a polygamist household. The narrative focuses primarily on
him, his youngest wife, and one of the disaffected children on the family. He
has an affair. He builds a brothel. The son gets into explosives…
It’s… fine.
It reminds me of The Art of Fielding in that it’s solid and enjoyable, but thin and structurally
sloppy. The style itself is technically sound but a little aimless. He
compensates for a lack of psychological depth and narrative momentum by over-explaining
the inner lives of his characters as though that kind of obsessive repetition
were poetry. It’s a grasp at Franzen that’s a little painfully reminiscent to
me of another (ahem) struggling stylist.
But the largest
problem for me lies in the novels hapless titular character. Golden is just too
passive as a character. He is described as a victim of his upbringing and environment
and seems to only watch, blinking dimly as a polygamous life is first built up
and then carries on around him. While it’s obviously true that we're the function
of our experiences, the novel doesn't remember that our pasts effect how we think, not just how we behave, and I
wanted Golden to be a stronger and more passionate adherent to his lifestyle.
I don't buy a
character who lives that kind of lifestyle and is so seemingly ambivalent about
it. You don't often meet people who hold extremist, traditionalist (and illegal
and complicated!) religious beliefs just
'cause. They're usually kind of into
it, you know?
I was looking forward
to a book that explored what it feels like to really believe something seemingly unusual and other--to be a part of a
community like that. But Golden isn't an interested or active participant in a
religious community or even, most of the time, this novel.
Bill Henrickson, the husband from the HBO series Big Love was a more interesting character to me. He wasn't always a great husband
(to be generous). But that was part of what made him fascinating to watch. That
show embraced the ugly aspects of a polygamist lifestyle along with the loving
ones, rather than using the set-up as a convenient conceit for telling a “big
family” family story. Bill was a passionate advocate and evangelist for polygamy.
He was in charge of his own life. His lifestyle seemed like a choice, at least to him. As a result it
was a show about religion and religious people in a way that this novel just is
not.
Hi, Spencer.
ReplyDeleteA month later, I'm just finishing the book and trying to make heads or tails out of it. Have much the same mixed feelings and thoughts about it that you seem to have (and somewhat the same background).
Most useful thing I've found? Udall's article on polygamy in Esquire, published in 1998 and reprinted here.
Hey, thank you--that's fascinating! And I'm glad to have my reading checked against someone else's. It was a very strangely frustrating book.
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