Plainsong: Grace Doesn't Come Easy

 

 

  

 

PLAINSONG (1999)

By Kent Haruf

Alfred A. Knopf, 301 pages.

★★★★★

 

Perhaps some of you know about the novel  Plainsong because it was made into a TV movie back in 2004. If there’s such a thing as a hidden masterpiece, this novel gets my vote. If you did see the TV production–I did not–know that author Kent Haruf hated it. In other words, don’t think you know the book if you watched the Hallmark Hall of Fame movie.

 

Plainsong can reference several things. Originally it was a style of unadorned music, usually without instrumental accompaniment. Gregorian chants are an example of this as are numerous other acapella arrangements such as one might hear in spartan country churches. It can also mean a spare style of writing–Haruf’s approach–or (for lack of a better term) what me might associate with simple living. Mennonites would be one example of the latter, but in Haruf’s novel it can be life in the sparsely populated parts of the Great Plains.

 

Plainsong is set in the fictional town of Holt, Colorado, a remote Big Sky town that’s closeknit by necessity. People speak of leaving, but seldom do, largely because they wouldn’t know how to handle big city life. Tom Guthrie is a major protagonist. He is a burnt out history teacher and part-time rancher living an isolated life outside of town with his two sons, Ike and Bobby. He holds some of his anger inside, but everyone in Holt knows that he’s dealing with his wife’s erratic behaviour, then her disappearance.

 

After she leaves–possibly because she was mentally disturbed, or possibly because small town life bored her–Tom bears the marks of an embittered man. He’s a taciturn, tough teacher; students earn the marks they get and he refuses to change grades, even under pressure. For their part, Ike and Bobby manifest abandonment through their shyness and social withdrawal. They know more about animals than human beings. This is evidenced by their cluelessness when confronted with bullying.  

 

In small places, redemption comes via small incidents and in incomplete ways. Tom notices the struggles of one of his students, Victoria Roubideaux. She has a bad attitude and, again, everyone knows that her single mother is an alcoholic. Tom has seen that Victoria is actually quite smart, but she’s carrying a burden she can’t hide for long. When she gets pregnant, her mother throws her out on the street to fend for herself. Tom implores a colleague, Maggie Jones, to give Victoria shelter and the novel’s heroic role shifts from to Maggie.

Maggie realizes that she can be only a temporary refuge. As you might imagine, social agencies in a town such as Holt have little to offer. Maggie has the unusual idea of approaching Raymond and Harold McPheron for help. They are akin to the “Norwegian bachelor farmers” in a Garrison Keillor story. The two brothers have long kept to themselves and neither has ever had much dealing with the distaff side of life. They know nothing about teenage girls in general, let alone a pregnant one. Plus they have to deal with an initial 1-1 tie over the whole idea of changing their lifestyle.  

 

Plainsong is rife with Biblical references, which prompted one reviewer to call it “hymn-like.” I’m not sure about that, but you’ve probably noticed that what is called “Christian charity” is often interwoven into village life. The McPherons reluctantly agree to take in Victoria, not realizing they would have to deal with her boyfriend Dwayne, the cold, irresponsible jerk whose child Victoria carries, or some of her actions (such as running away to Denver for several weeks). Can Victoria adjust to two old guys as substitute parents? Raymond and Harold are adept at tending to calves and lambs, but what about a pregnant girl or a human baby? After all, shelter is about more than a roof and a bed.

 

Plainsong is about abandonment, resiliency, and adaptation. It avoids rainbow endings or instant change scenarios. It was a surprise best seller in 1999 and was a National Book Award finalist, so it’s no surprise it has made a comeback. Some reviewers dissed its sentimentality, but defenders drew comparisons it Willa Cather’s My Antonia. I personally saw echoes of Spoon River Anthology and loved it for its warts-and-all humanity.

 

Note: If you wonder about the fate of other characters, know that Plainsong is part one of a trilogy.

 

Rob Weir