A Walk to Remember Seasonably Cliched

 

 

A Walk to Remember (1999)

By Nicholas Sparks

Warner Books, 240 pages

★★★

 

 

 

I occasionally like to read outside of my comfort zone, so when I saw a free Nicholas Spark book, I grabbed it. I know he’s a romance writer, which A Walk to Remember certainly is. It’s also religious in content, which is fine by me, though overt religiosity makes me nervous because of what how it’s abused. Many insist that organized religion is the root of all evil. That’s overstated, but it’s true that adherents frequently behave barbarically. Islam is troubled by terrorist groups (Hamas, Al Qaida, and El Shabab); ultra-conservative Jews interpret Zionism as an excuse for imperialism; Hindus, Sikhs, and Muslims war with one another; and legions of Christians equate material success with faith, pick up guns in Jesus’ name, or behave with the intolerance of Old Testament Pharisees.

 

A Walk to Remember isn’t great literature, but it seems appropriate for the season. It is set in 1958 and was inspired by Sparks’ sister. Sparks was born in 1965, but he gets a lot of things about 1958 right. It is set in the coastal town of Beaufort, North Carolina, during a period in which school prayer was legal, as were Christian-themed school plays. Its protagonist Landon Carter is the only offspring of a U.S. Congressman and a homemaker mother. They live in a historic home that’s large and well-appointed, though not quite a mansion. Landon’s life revolves around high school and he’s semi-popular, though he’s a slacker, is bright but not a scholar, and hangs out with athletes though he’s not one.

 

Sparks slathers on the nostalgia of the mythical Golden Fifties. In Beaufort, you can belong to any religion you want, as long as it’s Baptist. He and his family attend a Southern Baptist denomination headed by the widowed Reverend Hegbert Sullivan. Naughtiness for Landon and his friends involves sneaking into the cemetery to eat boiled peanuts, talk about “girls,” and engage in needling and braggadocio. Some occasionally drink a beer. Horror of horrors, Landon’s ex-girlfriend is now dating a guy who is in his 20s, drives a hot car, and wears a white T-shirt with a pack of Camels rolled into the sleeve. Shocked yet?

 

Landon is a senior working on his nonchalance. His father forces him to run for class president to bolster his chances of getting into the University of North Carolina. He doesn’t really want the role, but this is a “Yes, sir!” era, so he does and wins. This places him in what passes for the high school social whirl, though he’s still without a steady girlfriend. He knows who he doesn’t want to date: Jamie Sullivan, the minister’s daughter. “Old Hegbert,” as the kids call him, is stern, serious, and routinely works himself into a lather about the dangers of fornication. Jamie is forbidden to wear makeup or allow anyone in the house unless her father is home. Not that any peers would want to hang with her. She’s a mousy brown-sweatered loner never seen without her Bible whose idea of a good time is going to the orphanage to read to the children or perform other good deeds. In other words, she’s a classic Goody Two-Shoes. Landon does, however, take her to a school dance because he can’t find another date.

 

Circumstances will force the lives of Landon and Jamie to intersect again. The upcoming play is a yearly Christmas pageant that Old Hegbert wrote and Jamie wants it to be special for her father, as she will play an annunciation angel. The male lead, though, stutters and is terrible, so Jamie asks Landon to tryout as a “favor.” She also makes him promise he won’t fall in love with her. No worries! He’s about as withdrawn as he can be and sometimes is downright rude. You can take it from there!

 

The novel is riddled with cliches, stereotypes, and predictable turns–except for a central one involving Jamie. Why bother with it? First of all, you can gobble it like a pint of ice cream and in not much more time. Second, it has the wholesomeness of “The Gift of the Magi” and the redemptive feel of “A Christmas Carol.” Finally, it’s about a 57-year-old recalling how he learned to be a decent person who does the right thing. I’m down with that, no matter what ideology inspires it.

 

Rob Weir