Early this week I finished Migrant Souls and found myself at work with an opportunity to get the earlier Islas book, The Rain God, at the library. So that's what I did, and started reading it. The "sequel," if you will, is equally short, so I expect to finish it before the end of the week.
The Rain God is a very different book than its prequel, Migrant Souls. Its tone is different and even its style is different. I found it more readable than the other, partly because it's the first book about the Angel family, and the relationships among the many members of the family are explained. That was a problem with Migrant Souls--I couldn't keep the characters straight.
I'll have more to say about this book in my next post.
Thursday, March 24, 2011
Sunday, March 20, 2011
What We Know and Don't Know about Others
This week I've been reading Migrant Souls, by Arturo Islas, a Mexican-American writer and poet who died in 1991. Here is a web article that tells about the writer as well as his novels: Islas. After reading about the book, I now know that it is a prequel to his first successful novel, The Rain God. Both books are concerned with the lives of a family living in a small town on the Texas-Mexico border. The people in the story struggle with each other and with their conception of what it means to be American.
I've been enjoying reading it; its pace is leisurely on one hand but quick on the other. The narrator jumps whole decades from time to time, then settles into detailed scenes that reveal character and the problems the members of the family struggle with. The effect is to make me care about what happens to the people. Many issues are dealt with--religious doctrine, homosexuality, divorce, women's place in society, "proper" behavior, inter-racial and -cultural marriage--through the actions and thoughts of the characters.
The narration is from the perspective of one or two characters in the story, but despite getting a lot of information about the people in this story, I have many questions that are unanswered about what happens to them. For instance, early in the book we learn that the main character, Josie, is getting married to an Anglo soldier. Then ten years later, she comes home divorced, but with very little explanation (to us) about how it happened. The fact that we are not told does not mean that the family are not told. I wonder if the author's intention is to keep readers in the semi-dark about the characters' lives to keep us in suspense.
But another thought occurs to me: perhaps the characters are keeping the information from themselves and we are only seeing things they allow themselves to see. There is quite a bit of discussion in this novel about not discussing uncomfortable truths; maybe the writer is making us experience this first hand by having us puzzle through the gaps in the narrative.
I'll have to think some more about this theory and get back to you. Meanwhile, I plan on putting The Rain God on my list to read at a future time; I want to see what happens to these people.
I've been enjoying reading it; its pace is leisurely on one hand but quick on the other. The narrator jumps whole decades from time to time, then settles into detailed scenes that reveal character and the problems the members of the family struggle with. The effect is to make me care about what happens to the people. Many issues are dealt with--religious doctrine, homosexuality, divorce, women's place in society, "proper" behavior, inter-racial and -cultural marriage--through the actions and thoughts of the characters.
The narration is from the perspective of one or two characters in the story, but despite getting a lot of information about the people in this story, I have many questions that are unanswered about what happens to them. For instance, early in the book we learn that the main character, Josie, is getting married to an Anglo soldier. Then ten years later, she comes home divorced, but with very little explanation (to us) about how it happened. The fact that we are not told does not mean that the family are not told. I wonder if the author's intention is to keep readers in the semi-dark about the characters' lives to keep us in suspense.
But another thought occurs to me: perhaps the characters are keeping the information from themselves and we are only seeing things they allow themselves to see. There is quite a bit of discussion in this novel about not discussing uncomfortable truths; maybe the writer is making us experience this first hand by having us puzzle through the gaps in the narrative.
I'll have to think some more about this theory and get back to you. Meanwhile, I plan on putting The Rain God on my list to read at a future time; I want to see what happens to these people.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Home Comes the Sailor
Well, I've finally come to the end of the saga of Captain Bligh and Mr. Christian. In the final chapters, the author tells us what happened to all the principals, how they fared in their lives and careers, and how they died.
It's a great story, but in the end somewhat sad. I kept hoping Bligh would regain some of his reputation and be sufficiently rewarded for his efforts, or that Peter Heywood (the man largely responsible for the alternate version of the mutiny) would finally be exposed as a fraud. None of that happened, of course, and we're left with the Hollywood version of the story (itself taken from a novel) and with most people these days being unaware of "the rest of the story," as Paul Harvey would say.
But fortunately, Caroline Alexander took an interest, and thanks to her we now have not only the story in all its complexity, but a different, more balanced way of looking at this seafaring tale. I recommend The Bounty highly.
And now, on to the next! This time I'm reading a short novel, Migrant Souls, by a Chicano writer, Arturo Islas. I started it today and already I'm involved in the characters' lives. It's about a Mexican-American family living near the border between Texas and Mexico, written from the point of view of two of the daughters.
(A side note: I first tried the novel A Feast of Snakes, by Harry Crews, thinking it might be light, but it was anything but that. The main character is completely unsympathetic--violent, criminal, cold-hearted. It's going into the give-away pile.)
It's a great story, but in the end somewhat sad. I kept hoping Bligh would regain some of his reputation and be sufficiently rewarded for his efforts, or that Peter Heywood (the man largely responsible for the alternate version of the mutiny) would finally be exposed as a fraud. None of that happened, of course, and we're left with the Hollywood version of the story (itself taken from a novel) and with most people these days being unaware of "the rest of the story," as Paul Harvey would say.
But fortunately, Caroline Alexander took an interest, and thanks to her we now have not only the story in all its complexity, but a different, more balanced way of looking at this seafaring tale. I recommend The Bounty highly.
And now, on to the next! This time I'm reading a short novel, Migrant Souls, by a Chicano writer, Arturo Islas. I started it today and already I'm involved in the characters' lives. It's about a Mexican-American family living near the border between Texas and Mexico, written from the point of view of two of the daughters.
(A side note: I first tried the novel A Feast of Snakes, by Harry Crews, thinking it might be light, but it was anything but that. The main character is completely unsympathetic--violent, criminal, cold-hearted. It's going into the give-away pile.)
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Fletcher Christian: Taking Arms Against a Sea of Troubles
I'm almost done reading The Bounty, and I must say that I've learned a great deal from the book. Since I last posted, I've read about the court martial, the aftermath for those accused, and the eventual discovery of where the mutineers who were never caught ended up.
The court martial was interesting in that the British Navy's method of conducting the trial was very different from how we conduct our courts martial today. One thing that struck me about the process was that the accused had to conduct their own questioning of witnesses, though they could solicit help from lawyers. The descriptions of what the various defendants asked each other was kind of strange and at times amusing. (Throughout the book, Alexander quotes from actual records.)
One thing that was also strange was that Bligh was not present at the court martial to testify against or for any of the accused. He was off on a second expedition to collect and transplant breadfruit, this time successfully. So at the court martial, the various defendants could lie without being contradicted by the chief witness, and it seems they all did, to one extent or another, judging by the number of different accounts of the events all of them took part in.
Another aspect of the court martial that seemed odd to me: of the six who were eventually convicted of mutiny and sentenced to death, three were allowed to seek pardon from the king. And as it turned out, all three were granted pardon. That means that despite being convicted of a capital crime, three of the mutineers walked away completely free men. (The others were hanged.) Imagine if we had that possibility in our Uniform Code of Military Justice. Or imagine the president being able to pardon murderers or kidnappers. Would that ever happen in our country? Don't think so.
But probably the most interesting part of the entire story was what happened later, once the mutineers were judged and sentences carried out. Over the course of 100 years or so, the original heroes and villains in the story became, in the eyes of the public, quite the opposite. Captain Bligh, who at first was praised for his extraordinary strength and skill in getting his men back to England, and who received sympathy from other ship's captains for what the mutineers had forced him and his loyalists to endure, began to seem the villain. And Fletcher Christian, who was at first seen as the evil leader of the mutiny, was gradually transformed into a hero, along with all his fellows.
The author of the book, Caroline Alexander, has her theories about how the switch occurred. She gives a detailed account of the campaign waged by the families of both Christian and Peter Heywood, who was one of those pardoned. Both Christian and Heywood came from prominent, wealthy families, with ties to powerful members of Parliament. Their families were intent on rebuilding the reputations of the young men, thereby saving themselves from disgrace. But in order to succeed in that endeavor, they also had to tear down the reputation of William Bligh.
Their strategy apparently worked, thanks in part to the public's willingness to see rebellion in a new light. Don't forget, the late 1700's was an era of revolution, and people were changing their minds about duty and the infallibility of those in power. Alexander also believes the change to the Romantic ideal with its brooding Byronic hero (epitomized in Shakespeare's Hamlet), made it possible to see Fletcher Christian as such a hero, standing for freedom and against tyranny, despite all evidence to the contrary. (Bligh was actually a fairly restrained disciplinarian compared to his fellow captains.) Throughout the 19th and 20th centuries, this version of the mutiny on the Bounty has held, giving us movies and plays with a Romantic interpretation of the events and the people involved. But Caroline Alexander's book shows the story for what it was, in all its complexity, and makes the case that William Bligh was unjustly maligned.
In my next post, I'll talk about what happened to the mutineers and the end of the book.
The court martial was interesting in that the British Navy's method of conducting the trial was very different from how we conduct our courts martial today. One thing that struck me about the process was that the accused had to conduct their own questioning of witnesses, though they could solicit help from lawyers. The descriptions of what the various defendants asked each other was kind of strange and at times amusing. (Throughout the book, Alexander quotes from actual records.)
One thing that was also strange was that Bligh was not present at the court martial to testify against or for any of the accused. He was off on a second expedition to collect and transplant breadfruit, this time successfully. So at the court martial, the various defendants could lie without being contradicted by the chief witness, and it seems they all did, to one extent or another, judging by the number of different accounts of the events all of them took part in.
Another aspect of the court martial that seemed odd to me: of the six who were eventually convicted of mutiny and sentenced to death, three were allowed to seek pardon from the king. And as it turned out, all three were granted pardon. That means that despite being convicted of a capital crime, three of the mutineers walked away completely free men. (The others were hanged.) Imagine if we had that possibility in our Uniform Code of Military Justice. Or imagine the president being able to pardon murderers or kidnappers. Would that ever happen in our country? Don't think so.
But probably the most interesting part of the entire story was what happened later, once the mutineers were judged and sentences carried out. Over the course of 100 years or so, the original heroes and villains in the story became, in the eyes of the public, quite the opposite. Captain Bligh, who at first was praised for his extraordinary strength and skill in getting his men back to England, and who received sympathy from other ship's captains for what the mutineers had forced him and his loyalists to endure, began to seem the villain. And Fletcher Christian, who was at first seen as the evil leader of the mutiny, was gradually transformed into a hero, along with all his fellows.
The author of the book, Caroline Alexander, has her theories about how the switch occurred. She gives a detailed account of the campaign waged by the families of both Christian and Peter Heywood, who was one of those pardoned. Both Christian and Heywood came from prominent, wealthy families, with ties to powerful members of Parliament. Their families were intent on rebuilding the reputations of the young men, thereby saving themselves from disgrace. But in order to succeed in that endeavor, they also had to tear down the reputation of William Bligh.
Their strategy apparently worked, thanks in part to the public's willingness to see rebellion in a new light. Don't forget, the late 1700's was an era of revolution, and people were changing their minds about duty and the infallibility of those in power. Alexander also believes the change to the Romantic ideal with its brooding Byronic hero (epitomized in Shakespeare's Hamlet), made it possible to see Fletcher Christian as such a hero, standing for freedom and against tyranny, despite all evidence to the contrary. (Bligh was actually a fairly restrained disciplinarian compared to his fellow captains.) Throughout the 19th and 20th centuries, this version of the mutiny on the Bounty has held, giving us movies and plays with a Romantic interpretation of the events and the people involved. But Caroline Alexander's book shows the story for what it was, in all its complexity, and makes the case that William Bligh was unjustly maligned.
In my next post, I'll talk about what happened to the mutineers and the end of the book.
Saturday, March 5, 2011
What Hollywood Missed
I've read about half of The Bounty now, and as I had hoped, the author goes back to the beginning to tell the story of how all these unfortunate events took place. Like all such accountings, the mutiny's story benefits from hindsight in that incidents that seemed minor or unconnected at the time are shown to have contributed in a major way to the outcome.
Caroline Alexander's purpose in writing this book, it seems, is to correct the misconceptions many people have about the mutiny on the Bounty, mostly derived from the movies that were made about it. She has certainly succeeded in that, at least with me. It was, I have learned, a much more complex affair than Hollywood has portrayed. Its complexities are brought out through Alexander's detailed descriptions of the time and place of the mutiny along with plenty of quotes from diaries, letters, records and other documents of the era. William Bligh's own journals and ship's logs make up the centerpiece of her sources, but many other primary sources are quoted, including reports in the London Times, that show all sides of the issue. And of course there are a number of pictures to help us visualize the late 18th century and the story's principal players.
One of my responses to this book was almost immediate: I had no idea! I thought I knew this story but it turns out I was wrong. It is not a simple story of mutiny against a tyrannical captain, but an entirely different tale, one that involves the British Navy, 18th century class distinctions, imperialist policies, scientific exploration, international conflict, global weather patterns, even theories of medical treatment. A much more interesting tale, in fact.
I've learned quite a bit so far, though the trial for the mutineers has barely begun. As I read along, I find it difficult to judge who are the villains and who the heroes in this tale. For the actual judges, it was probably a no-brainer: a mutiny occurred and those who mutinied should be punished according to law. All that remained to be decided was their relative degree of guilt.
But for the public, then and now, it's not so easy. We want answers: why did this happen? Hollywood gave us its answer, but we no longer have to accept it. Caroline Alexander has given us the tools to come to our own conclusions.
One conclusion I've come to already is that the mutiny on the Bounty was not a tragedy. In fact, for most of the people involved, things worked out pretty well. But I may have different ideas by the time I've finished the book. I'll keep you informed, in any case.
Caroline Alexander's purpose in writing this book, it seems, is to correct the misconceptions many people have about the mutiny on the Bounty, mostly derived from the movies that were made about it. She has certainly succeeded in that, at least with me. It was, I have learned, a much more complex affair than Hollywood has portrayed. Its complexities are brought out through Alexander's detailed descriptions of the time and place of the mutiny along with plenty of quotes from diaries, letters, records and other documents of the era. William Bligh's own journals and ship's logs make up the centerpiece of her sources, but many other primary sources are quoted, including reports in the London Times, that show all sides of the issue. And of course there are a number of pictures to help us visualize the late 18th century and the story's principal players.
One of my responses to this book was almost immediate: I had no idea! I thought I knew this story but it turns out I was wrong. It is not a simple story of mutiny against a tyrannical captain, but an entirely different tale, one that involves the British Navy, 18th century class distinctions, imperialist policies, scientific exploration, international conflict, global weather patterns, even theories of medical treatment. A much more interesting tale, in fact.
I've learned quite a bit so far, though the trial for the mutineers has barely begun. As I read along, I find it difficult to judge who are the villains and who the heroes in this tale. For the actual judges, it was probably a no-brainer: a mutiny occurred and those who mutinied should be punished according to law. All that remained to be decided was their relative degree of guilt.
But for the public, then and now, it's not so easy. We want answers: why did this happen? Hollywood gave us its answer, but we no longer have to accept it. Caroline Alexander has given us the tools to come to our own conclusions.
One conclusion I've come to already is that the mutiny on the Bounty was not a tragedy. In fact, for most of the people involved, things worked out pretty well. But I may have different ideas by the time I've finished the book. I'll keep you informed, in any case.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)