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Finished [reading] a book!
I may have made a start on getting over my reader's block. I've just finished King Spruce, the 1908 potboiler that's provided me with many hours of entertainment, ever since I first found the book on the side of the road.
King Spruce
Holman Day
New York: Harper & Brothers Publishers, 1908
King Spruce was very entertaining; I enjoyed the story very much, even though all the happenings were loudly telegraphed from well in advance, and even though some aspects (the flawlessness of the hero; the blood-will-tell element to people’s fates; certain convenient changes of heart) needled at me.
It struck me as being a 1908 version of a John Grisham novel (Can I say that without having read a John Grisham novel? I’ve seen movies made from them; does that count?) By this I mean, it took a contemporary business/legal situation (corrupt lumber interests in Maine) and explored it, showed the workings of the industry, the reasons for the corruption, how those in power maintained it—and then toppled the bad guys most satisfyingly if, maybe, somewhat unconvincingly.
So, there’s the drama of the corrupt lumber barons, against whom our stalwart (and annoyingly flawless) hero, Dwight Wade, exerts himself. There’s also a romance: Wade is in love with Elva Barrett, the daughter of John Barrett, one of the lumber barons. Barrett has an illegitimate daughter, known as Kate Arden, whom the hero runs across in the forested mountains. She’s much finer and more intelligent than the good-for-nothings among whom she’s been raised (because blood will tell), but having been raised among them, and being illegitimate, she gets foisted off on a conveniently placed hot-blooded young lumberjack (Colin MacLeod) who at first scorns her but eventually comes round. I kind of hoped the hero would fall for her, but no, he remains devoted to the mainly absent (and pallid) Elva.
About the flawlessness of Wade. It was really quite remarkable. A college-educated schoolteacher, he’s got book learning—but he’s also the picture of physical vitality (he played football in college, you see), such that he’s able to take down Colin MacLeod when the occasion demands. He’s a quick study and, when he leaves schoolteaching for work up in the timberlands, earns the trust and admiration of all around him—except the wicked Pulaski Britt. Britt is Barrett’s right-hand man; he’s the one who gets up to all the true nastiness, which lets the author redeem Barrett: Britt can take the fall.
When Wade finds out the connection between Kate and Barrett, he tries to use moral suasion to get Barrett to do right by her, strenuously avoiding blackmailing him, although everyone and his brother is sure that blackmail is exactly what Wade will get up to. It made an interesting contrast with “The Mayor of Candor Lied,” a ballad by Harry Chapin that my daughter introduced me to recently, in which the song’s narrator tries to blackmail the father of his sweetheart when he learns of the father’s romantic indiscretions. The narrator does this so that he and his sweetheart can be together. It doesn’t work out (though there are added complications in the song that doom the romance, even if the narrator hadn’t tried blackmail). Wade, on the other hand, is above all that, and he ends up getting his girl.
In King Spruce, everyone around Wade behaves much more naturally than Wade himself. For instance, Barrett, when Wade first rescues him from burning to death (yes, Wade does this too; I swear, Wade does All The Things), is grateful and sincere, but, once danger is past, begins to have second thoughts about the whole situation and starts retelling the story to himself in a way that will let him renege on his word and not feel like that’s what he’s actually doing. So human! Not honorable, not good, but very real. Wade has no moments like that.
But Wade’s flawlessness didn’t make me hate him. He’s honorable, brave, and kind, so I liked him. It just would have been more interesting if he’d gone astray a little now and then.
I’m very glad I read the book. It was fun to experience pop literature of the first decade of the twentieth century, and I definitely feel the richer for it.
King Spruce
Holman Day
New York: Harper & Brothers Publishers, 1908
King Spruce was very entertaining; I enjoyed the story very much, even though all the happenings were loudly telegraphed from well in advance, and even though some aspects (the flawlessness of the hero; the blood-will-tell element to people’s fates; certain convenient changes of heart) needled at me.
It struck me as being a 1908 version of a John Grisham novel (Can I say that without having read a John Grisham novel? I’ve seen movies made from them; does that count?) By this I mean, it took a contemporary business/legal situation (corrupt lumber interests in Maine) and explored it, showed the workings of the industry, the reasons for the corruption, how those in power maintained it—and then toppled the bad guys most satisfyingly if, maybe, somewhat unconvincingly.
So, there’s the drama of the corrupt lumber barons, against whom our stalwart (and annoyingly flawless) hero, Dwight Wade, exerts himself. There’s also a romance: Wade is in love with Elva Barrett, the daughter of John Barrett, one of the lumber barons. Barrett has an illegitimate daughter, known as Kate Arden, whom the hero runs across in the forested mountains. She’s much finer and more intelligent than the good-for-nothings among whom she’s been raised (because blood will tell), but having been raised among them, and being illegitimate, she gets foisted off on a conveniently placed hot-blooded young lumberjack (Colin MacLeod) who at first scorns her but eventually comes round. I kind of hoped the hero would fall for her, but no, he remains devoted to the mainly absent (and pallid) Elva.
About the flawlessness of Wade. It was really quite remarkable. A college-educated schoolteacher, he’s got book learning—but he’s also the picture of physical vitality (he played football in college, you see), such that he’s able to take down Colin MacLeod when the occasion demands. He’s a quick study and, when he leaves schoolteaching for work up in the timberlands, earns the trust and admiration of all around him—except the wicked Pulaski Britt. Britt is Barrett’s right-hand man; he’s the one who gets up to all the true nastiness, which lets the author redeem Barrett: Britt can take the fall.
When Wade finds out the connection between Kate and Barrett, he tries to use moral suasion to get Barrett to do right by her, strenuously avoiding blackmailing him, although everyone and his brother is sure that blackmail is exactly what Wade will get up to. It made an interesting contrast with “The Mayor of Candor Lied,” a ballad by Harry Chapin that my daughter introduced me to recently, in which the song’s narrator tries to blackmail the father of his sweetheart when he learns of the father’s romantic indiscretions. The narrator does this so that he and his sweetheart can be together. It doesn’t work out (though there are added complications in the song that doom the romance, even if the narrator hadn’t tried blackmail). Wade, on the other hand, is above all that, and he ends up getting his girl.
In King Spruce, everyone around Wade behaves much more naturally than Wade himself. For instance, Barrett, when Wade first rescues him from burning to death (yes, Wade does this too; I swear, Wade does All The Things), is grateful and sincere, but, once danger is past, begins to have second thoughts about the whole situation and starts retelling the story to himself in a way that will let him renege on his word and not feel like that’s what he’s actually doing. So human! Not honorable, not good, but very real. Wade has no moments like that.
But Wade’s flawlessness didn’t make me hate him. He’s honorable, brave, and kind, so I liked him. It just would have been more interesting if he’d gone astray a little now and then.
I’m very glad I read the book. It was fun to experience pop literature of the first decade of the twentieth century, and I definitely feel the richer for it.
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I've got one from around that time about a girls' college. Their prom night, which they look forward to all year, has them dancing together (no men allowed)--dance cards, roses, and everything. Oh how times change!
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The all girls' dance sounds fascinating--no men at all in the story, then? No callers or dating?
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In a lot of older books - though in newer ones too, sometimes - the hero or heroine is a paragon of virtue and totally boring, and the secondary characters light up the page. I always wonder, are the authors aware that they misfired? But maybe they don't see it that way.
I love reading old books. It has some of the same pleasures of reading a fantasy, because the world is so alien - perhaps even more so in books that aren't classics, because they're more of their time.
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Yes, I think this is true.
I wonder, about the protagonists, whether the authors are trying to make characters that the readers would look up to/want to be like? I can sort of understand that--both the impulse as a writer and, in fact, as a reader. But it can be ridiculous, when the protagonist is always winning at *everything*.
Kate Arden was way, way cooler than Elva Barrett. *sigh*
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Now, older, and having seen more of the world, I do understand. Humans! They make their own lives so difficult.
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I just read a memoir from 1944 or so by a guy who was a logger and then a Maine wildlife officer. People did try hard to be perfect back in the day. It was a slice of another time. Your book sounds like that, too.
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I'm all for trying hard to be as good as possible--it's when someone's portrayed as *achieving* perfection that I have my doubts. But as I say, I did like Wade. It was kind of nice to be around someone who was so reliable and stalwart.
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I bet the woods you live in must be beautiful.
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Our woods are mixed hardwoods. We live on the Santa Fe River near High Springs, FL. We have magnolia, hickory, sweet gum, oak, a few huge pine trees, lots of dogwood and bay trees. There's a kind of gnarled understory tree called a sparkleberry that has reddish trunks and grows in groves and is covered with small white bell flowers in the spring. It really is nice except for the mosquitos and ticks, but we go to southwestern Maine for the summer.
I saw you live in Vermont. That sounds pretty too.
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I saw some of those huge pines of yours when I came on a trip south this past summer--wonderful.
Sparkleberry is a wonderful name, and it sounds very pretty .
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Re: maine writers
I will put We Took to the Woods on my list of books to look at.