The Plot Thickens

In my last post I left you hanging, about to present my review of West of Here by Jonathan Evison. And so I was about to do, until yesterday morning an unexpected Facebook message arrived in my inbox from none other than Jonathan Evison. While I hope for a large readership for this blog, somehow it had never occurred to me that the author whose book I was reviewing might be one of those readers! But I guess, like many authors (neurotic and insecure, myself among them!) he’s got a Google Alert going and that’s how he found my post. I also assume that, just weeks before the official publication of his book, he’s eagerly, perhaps anxiously awaiting reviews and other notice.

He wrote quite a nice note—here’s what he said:

. . . uh oh, that last line in your blog sounds cryptic! . . .fingers crossed! . . . whatever you think of the book, thanks for the coverage, and keep blogging about books!

I wrote back also said “uh oh!” and he replied “no need to be nervous, i have thick skin “ He also agreed to do a blog interview with me, so watch for that soon! But first I’ll delay no longer and present my review.

Jonathan Evison has set out to write the Great American Novel. And while he claims in an interview that this literary entity is a beleaguered beast, he is clearly in pursuit of the creature, and aims to take the thing hostage, even should it prove to be as large, elusive and mythical as the Sasquatch tracked with fervor by the character Krig. With a cry of “Westward ho!” he sets off to write a novel of exploration and history, seeking to excavate the American character.

Evison says he is very interested in character. So much so, it seems, that he can’t seem to stop creating characters, and his sprawling new book is chock full of them, so much so that the reader loses track. Let bring you into the scene of my Sneak Peek class. There we were, a group of women sitting around a room, tentatively holding our hefty copies of West of Here (the book weighs in at 486 pages), looking at each other, wondering who would jump in first.

I was, however, forewarned. Two days before the meeting, I had received an e-mail from one member of the class—let’s call her Sally for now. Sally, a soft-spoken 50-plus woman, practically ranted: “This book has 49 characters –and I’m only on page 200!!!”

I knew what we were in for this evening, so I plunged right in with the question I usually never ask until a book has been thoroughly dissected and evaluated: “So, what’d you think?” Collective deep breath, more silence. I decide to help alleviate their discomfort. Since I’m the one who chose the book, they’re hesitant to hurt my feelings (why me? I didn’t write the book!). I let them off the hook: “You didn’t like it did you?” I heard a deep collective sigh of relief.

If you do have 49 characters by page 200, according to Sally’s count (and I know her to be thorough and scrupulous!), even in 486 pages, one does run the risk of failing to develop these characters, painting them in the broad brushstrokes that often lead to stereotype. Hence in the 19th century portion of the book (the book goes back and forth between the historic period and the contemporary one), we have Gertie, the whore with the heart of gold, complete with requisite red hair. We have Eva, the “liberated” woman, who eschews marriage to the father of her child, and regularly spouts slogans/diatribes about, well, the 19th century version of “a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle.” Back in 2006, we meet Hillary Burch (and we’re really not sure why we meet her or what she’s actually doing in the novel), who, in shapeless khaki pants and cropped hair, cringes at the cruel high-schoolers who call her “Lesbo.” Although later we’ll find her confessing a recent revelation to her mother, who is the tight-skirted, tight-titted, and tight-lipped (thanks to Botox) type, “I like women, Mom.” Then there’s Rita, who, while she shows a greater depth and originality, still comes packaged with the requisite drunken abusive father on the “Rez” followed by drunken abusive husband and then boyfriend in the trailer park legacy.

Now, as good readers as we are in this group and skilled at analyzing a book, we don’t always agree, but this time we did. Everyone felt there was just too much in this book and it needed to be reined in. Various readers recommended characters they felt could easily have been dispensed with, and while we didn’t agree on that level of detail, we felt that this book was written by a talented writer who perhaps needed a bit more support and more red-pencil wielding by his editor (see what I mean – we only mention the editors when they don’t do their jobs!).

I will suggest that we may have had one major handicap – our gender. As I looked around the room I asked them – do you think we feel this way because we are women? I asked because in many ways it’s a very macho book, lots of wooly-bearded explorers roughing it in the wild and muddy frontier towns with rugged lifestyles. And gender may be a factor, we don’t know. We’ll have to wait for the male readers and reviewers to chime in.

In summary, I would have to say for me the operative adjective to apply to West of Here is “sprawling.” It’s too big, there’s too much plot and too many characters, and the author is not in control of them all. But I do admire the author's ambitions and I respect and support his belief in the Great American Novel. (I've just requested his earlier book All About Lulu from the library, so I'll learn more about his writing when I read that.)