When Midas Came to Town

Over the holidays, I read a Jane Smiley book I really liked called Good Faith. The wonder of it is that I liked it so well considering it was actually about bad faith, greed, dishonesty, and infidelity, but I think that's a tribute to the author's talents. She seems to have a knack for looking at human weaknesses without losing her sense of humor, and she writes so well that you're entertained just by dipping into her sentences. I admit that I didn't enjoy her Pulitzer Prize winner, A Thousand Acres, which was rather grim, but I've found some of her other work to be very rewarding.

Good Faith is about Joe Stratford, a small-town realtor in an unspecified mid-Atlantic state who has a good though unexciting life when the story opens. He's good at his job, conscientious, and well regarded by others in the community, most of whom he's known his entire life. He's divorced but neither bitter about it or in a hurry to get remarried. He's a devoted son. His circle of friends includes a developer who is something of a father figure to him and whose family is like an extension of his own. He enjoys his work.

Things begin to change when a newcomer to the community, Marcus Burns, breaks into Joe's circle and shakes up business as usual with some rather ambitious ideas about real estate development and other investments on a grand scale. With his impeccable attire, smooth manner, and winning ways, he's soon able to convince Joe and his partners that they can all get rich if they'll only start thinking "big" and forget about the way they've always done things. It's entertaining but sad to see the way they let go of their doubts, one by one, and succumb to his get-rich-quick schemes despite knowing little about him and even entertaining doubts as to his credibility.

The reader can both foresee the likely result and also understand some of the reasons Marcus succeeds in getting others to invest in his schemes. He's a consummate motivational speaker and has just enough knowledge (along with oratorical ability) to lend conviction to risky projects simply by suggesting that times are changing and that ways of doing business must change along with them. Winning over Joe is a big part of his strategy, since everyone trusts Joe and believes that if he's involved in something, it must be OK. Joe is so intrigued and entertained by his new friend that he manages to stifle his own doubts, especially as most of those who voice concern about risky new real estate ventures are people he considers out of touch.

Without fully realizing what they've gotten into until it's too late, Joe and his partners end up taking a wild ride fueled by visions of the billions of dollars they're assured are theirs for the taking. Joe gambles away nearly everything on the charismatic nature of his new friend and takes several of his old friends down with him.

I think the story appeals because it's about people who seem quite human and ordinary; I feel that I've known people very much like the ones in the book and, without exactly wanting to be them, could step into their world without much strain to the imagination. In addition, the microcosm of the story mirrors larger events in our country's economic history. While set against the S & L catastrophe of the 1980s, it's also a reminder of more recent economic disasters that resulted from throwing all caution to the wind. It's a bit of an "emperor has no clothes" story.

Although things end rather badly for some of the characters, Smiley inserts a bit of optimism at the very end after you've stopped expecting it. Having lost a lot of other things he once had, Joe finally finds love. I liked the way Smiley has Joe describe this experience in terms his very religious mother always used but that he never really understood as "grace acting in the material world." His epiphany seems to make the sun come out once again after a sad season of greed and loss without seeming at all like a sentimental or maudlin conclusion.

Reading this story is a little like watching the unfolding of a Greek tragedy in which hubris plays a large role, except that the ending is more optimistic. It's classic tragedy by way of American optimism, maybe. The characters in Greek drama rarely seem to get a second chance, but in America, if they persevere long enough, sometimes they do.

Clio Muses Over Current Events

With all the political wrangling in Washington over the budget crisis, it's easy to focus on how tough things are (and they have been better, no question). But people who read history usually take the long view and can often point to events that put the current situation (whatever it is) into perspective. Entirely by accident, I've recently read two novels dealing with 19th-century life on the American frontier, and both made me glad to be living in the 21st century.

Jane Smiley's The All-True Travels and Adventures of Lidie Newton tells the story of a young Illinois woman who follows her new husband to the Kansas Territory just as pro-slavery and abolitionist forces are clashing for control of it. Her husband Thomas, though mild-mannered and kind, enters K.T. with smuggled arms to aid fellow abolitionists who have already settled in and around Lawrence. Lidie, a tomboy self-described as "useless," has married the attractive but enigmatic Thomas largely to escape a circumscribed life. Like many others, she has fallen under the spell of advertising that encourages settlement by promoting Kansas as a new paradise.

What seems like a big adventure turns serious once Lidie and Thomas arrive in K.T. and see for themselves the open hostility that frequently results in violence. Aside from that, Kansas is no Eden, and life for homesteaders is difficult, even for the young and strong. Despite the harsh conditions, the Newtons make the best of their new life and friends until the escalating brutality results in tragedy, and Lidie is forced to decide on a course of action.

When I learned about the Missouri Compromise and the Kansas-Nebraska Act in history class, it was in broad terms. This novel really opened my eyes to what America must have been like in the 1850s and how much blood was shed over the issue of slavery even before the Civil War. It was a vicious time, marked by tragedy and ill will. The novel is remarkable, and Lidie is a wonderful protagonist, but the book describes an unforgettably dark episode in the push for westward expansion.

Tracy Chevalier's The Last Runaway, set in 1850, gives a view of similar events through the eyes of a young Quaker woman, Honor Bright, who comes to America for a new start after a broken engagement. Her adventure starts off badly when her sister dies soon after the pair's arrival from England, leaving Honor alone at the edge of the Ohio frontier.

Honor finds conditions in America daunting due to the loneliness, the coarseness of daily life, and the hardships imposed by both nature and an unsettled society. The area around Oberlin is part of the Underground Railroad, but the consequences of helping escaped slaves have become more severe since passage of the Fugitive Slave Act of 1850. Even within Honor's Quaker community, questions of right and wrong are balanced against questions of livelihood, pragmatism, and safety. Honor learns that adhering to principles can lead to ostracism, even among Quakers.

Miss Chevalier's book paints a vivid portrait of an America still half wild, where a wagon journey through the forest between one town and the next presents innumerable hazards, and social divisions simmer ominously, sometimes boiling over. An episode in which Honor accompanies a runaway slave during her own bid for freedom has a parallel in Miss Smiley's book, although the consequences are different. Both books reminded me of Toni Morrison's Beloved, which tells the story of an escaped slave in Ohio still entangled in the tragedy of her past. Beloved has been likened to Dante's Inferno; it certainly contains many scenes of both personal and societal hell, as do Miss Smiley's and Miss Chevalier's novels.

With so much contention in our history, it's not surprising that we still find ourselves at odds with each other. Maybe there is some good news in the current climate after all: at least now the divisions are over budgetary issues, health care, and the debt ceiling and not over slavery and territorial expansion. Current matters are serious, but at least we're not engaged in hand-to-hand combat. Perhaps we've learned enough from the past to proceed peacefully even when stakes are high and disagreements are sharp. Maybe our tumultuous past has at least given us that legacy.