Each of the three novels we read during our Canadian literature section of the class presents a question dealing with the Mennonite Community or faith. The main conflict of the story stems from the main character’s struggle with the question. Sandra Birdsell’s Katya raises the question of self defense. The question is posed when the people come to hurt her family and the Sudermanns: If someone is trying to kill you and your family, is it okay to fight back to save your life? Miriam Teows’ A Complicated Kindness presents the problem of being enslaved by the tight rules of the Church and the question of when is the Church wrong? When does it turn into manipulation of the truth? What do you do? Do you follow the rules or do you stand up to the Church and demand reform? The central question posed in Rudy Wiebe’s Peace Shall Destroy Many is about nonresistance. Is it okay to sit back while others are fighting and dying for your freedom?
We see the most blunt presentation of this question in Peace Shall Destroy Many on page 105 when Annamarie repeats Cornie’s words to her in his letter: "But the worst is the way some of the men, our people often too, don't understand or care what is really going on outside in the world. They're happy that their own conscience is satisfied- they care for no more...Am I to be concerned only with the final redemption of my own soul? Have we progressed so far as to call that Christ's teaching? Or do I do something for my neighbour also? Sometimes I think that planting trees is not enough of an answer to that question." Unhopeful, Thom points out, "what else can Christians do...? Surely not join in the killing" to which Annamarie replies “Of course not… but sometimes our refusal to have anything to do with the War means only, ‘Well, I’m doing the right thing and am bound for heaven- let the rest of the world go to hell as it wishes’” (105). And so the question is left unanswered as Thom struggles to understand the world around him.
The reader is not presented with a concrete answer at the end of the novel. Rather, he or she is presented with the final scene and made to interpret the answer to the question based on that. But the final scene is a surprise, not only Thom, but also the Deacon’s son, Pete, turn to violence. The crowd of people stand amazed and Deacon Block runs off in tears. The scene ends with Thom’s family riding home in silence. Did Thom let his temper get the best of him in a moment of weakness? He punched Herb when Herb was going to attack Pete. And Pete had punched Herb because he thought Herb was violating Razia. Pete tells his father “Pa, you have to do what you think right” (286). We are left with the conclusion that violence is okay when it is used to protect others.
Both Katya and Peace Shall Destroy Many address exceptions to the rule of nonviolence but give different answers; the actions of Katya’s father suggest that violence should never be used, even for self defense while Thom and Pete suggest that violence is okay if it is used to protect others. A Complicated Kindness asks what should be done in the face of stifling and manipulative church rules. All three novels seem to address through their questions that perhaps the Church is not always right and that Christians should not follow their church leaders mindlessly but think for themselves and decide what they believe personally.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Monday, April 25, 2011
Poetry
The Canadian poets in A Cappella all seemed to write about the same subjects in their poems. Many of the poems were about childhood or family members or faith or farm life. For instance, Di Brandt, Sarah Klassen, and Patrick Friesen all have poems in A Cappella written about their mothers and father.
Di Brandt takes on an unusual structure for her poem. No words are capitalized, there is no punctuation and phrases blend together without line separation. Upon first reading, this structure makes the poem difficult to read. Brandt's poem talks describes her thoughtful, mild-tempered mother when Brandt was a child.
Sarah Klassen's poem, "Russian Fables," reads more like a story. It starts with Klassen's mother singing stories to her in Russian and blurs into the story of her mother's childhood in Russia. It is composed of prose stanzas and while most of the stanzas are five lines, one is only four lines while another is seven lines and another is eight lines. While this poem is easier to read, the structure is still a little unruly.
Patrick Friesen writes about his father in his "pa poem 1: firstborn." Friesen, like Brandt, does not use capitalization or punctuation except for ellipses. He describes his father's silent nature as a fear of words using the image of the first day his father heard him speak. I like this poem and its imagery and insight into the father's mind.
I started to wonder about the strategy the authors used when writing. When I write I guess I do not usually write about specific events. I write about more abstract ideas like faith, love, or grief. I found it hard to connect with some of the poems about specific family members and I wonder what audience they were written for. Did the authors sit down with an idea in mind? Did they say "today I am going to write a poem about my father"? I have only done that once or twice when I wrote a poem in honor of my grandfather. I take after the Romantic Era; I write what and when I am inspired to write. I love writing poetry but when someone tells me to write a particular type of poem or a poem on a certain subject by a certain date I cannot do it. I cannot force a poem into being.
None of the poems rhyme either. I find it harder to understand prose poems. Most of the poems I write rhyme. I like the rhythm that rhymes give a poem and find it hard to find the rhythm of prose poems. But I have also heard others say the opposite- that they do not understand rhyming poems and like prose poems better.
Di Brandt takes on an unusual structure for her poem. No words are capitalized, there is no punctuation and phrases blend together without line separation. Upon first reading, this structure makes the poem difficult to read. Brandt's poem talks describes her thoughtful, mild-tempered mother when Brandt was a child.
Sarah Klassen's poem, "Russian Fables," reads more like a story. It starts with Klassen's mother singing stories to her in Russian and blurs into the story of her mother's childhood in Russia. It is composed of prose stanzas and while most of the stanzas are five lines, one is only four lines while another is seven lines and another is eight lines. While this poem is easier to read, the structure is still a little unruly.
Patrick Friesen writes about his father in his "pa poem 1: firstborn." Friesen, like Brandt, does not use capitalization or punctuation except for ellipses. He describes his father's silent nature as a fear of words using the image of the first day his father heard him speak. I like this poem and its imagery and insight into the father's mind.
I started to wonder about the strategy the authors used when writing. When I write I guess I do not usually write about specific events. I write about more abstract ideas like faith, love, or grief. I found it hard to connect with some of the poems about specific family members and I wonder what audience they were written for. Did the authors sit down with an idea in mind? Did they say "today I am going to write a poem about my father"? I have only done that once or twice when I wrote a poem in honor of my grandfather. I take after the Romantic Era; I write what and when I am inspired to write. I love writing poetry but when someone tells me to write a particular type of poem or a poem on a certain subject by a certain date I cannot do it. I cannot force a poem into being.
None of the poems rhyme either. I find it harder to understand prose poems. Most of the poems I write rhyme. I like the rhythm that rhymes give a poem and find it hard to find the rhythm of prose poems. But I have also heard others say the opposite- that they do not understand rhyming poems and like prose poems better.
Insights on A Complicated Kindness
Complicated is definitely the word to describe Miriam Teows' A Complicated Kindness. When I opened the bright pink cover I was expecting a quiet, mild story, maybe dealing with issues like social relationships or something. I was not expecting the defiant, restless Nomi Nickel. I was surprised by Nomi's language and actions and my eyes bulged when Nomi suggested that "Menno was on a cough-syrup binge when he drew up these lists of dos and don'ts" (p 13) that she called "Menno's shitlist" (p15), although I have to admit I was laughing too.
The entire book is kind of depressing. Nomi even refers to herself as a "sad, cynical pothead" (p 32). She does drugs, smokes, drinks, swears, mouths off, and runs through fields naked. Definitely not the kind of character I was expecting a Mennonite novelist to create.
However, the book does seem to address some of the same questions that Peace Shall Destroy Many addresses. While PSDM more specifically addresses the issue of Mennonite nonviolence in the midst of war, it also addresses Thom's feelings of unease about the over-conservative rules of the church and the Deacon. What do you do when you know that the church is wrong? This is the same question proposed in A Complicated Kindness. Nomi's sister, Tash, realizes that the church is wrong and her frustration causes her to leave. And when Nomi runs to Trudie with nightmares about Tash going to hell we see that Trudie doesn't quite believe everything her brother has to say either. Tash, Trudie, and eventually, Nomi, are excommunicated from the church. Only Ray seems to remain faithful. And while it is Tash and Trudie's departures that seem to tear everything apart for Ray and Nomi, I believe it all stems from their issues with the church. Toward the end of the book, when Nomi is reflecting on why Ray left, she says "that's what people around here are forced to do if they aren't strong enough to live without some kind of faith or strong enough to make a stand and change an entire system or overthrow a church. And who of us are that strong anyway? Not the Nickels, that's for sure" (p. 241). They realize that the church is wrong and its rules are ridiculous but the church has the power in a small, closed off town like East Village so they leave, one by one, as they become aware of this and react to it in their own way. But in the end we are left wondering if Nomi actually leaves. If she does, she may never see her family, but I don't think they will return to East Village anyway. Tash, Trudie, and Ray each found a way out of town, but does Nomi?
The entire book is kind of depressing. Nomi even refers to herself as a "sad, cynical pothead" (p 32). She does drugs, smokes, drinks, swears, mouths off, and runs through fields naked. Definitely not the kind of character I was expecting a Mennonite novelist to create.
However, the book does seem to address some of the same questions that Peace Shall Destroy Many addresses. While PSDM more specifically addresses the issue of Mennonite nonviolence in the midst of war, it also addresses Thom's feelings of unease about the over-conservative rules of the church and the Deacon. What do you do when you know that the church is wrong? This is the same question proposed in A Complicated Kindness. Nomi's sister, Tash, realizes that the church is wrong and her frustration causes her to leave. And when Nomi runs to Trudie with nightmares about Tash going to hell we see that Trudie doesn't quite believe everything her brother has to say either. Tash, Trudie, and eventually, Nomi, are excommunicated from the church. Only Ray seems to remain faithful. And while it is Tash and Trudie's departures that seem to tear everything apart for Ray and Nomi, I believe it all stems from their issues with the church. Toward the end of the book, when Nomi is reflecting on why Ray left, she says "that's what people around here are forced to do if they aren't strong enough to live without some kind of faith or strong enough to make a stand and change an entire system or overthrow a church. And who of us are that strong anyway? Not the Nickels, that's for sure" (p. 241). They realize that the church is wrong and its rules are ridiculous but the church has the power in a small, closed off town like East Village so they leave, one by one, as they become aware of this and react to it in their own way. But in the end we are left wondering if Nomi actually leaves. If she does, she may never see her family, but I don't think they will return to East Village anyway. Tash, Trudie, and Ray each found a way out of town, but does Nomi?
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Katya by Sandra Birdsell
Birdsell's Katya is a novel that takes place in Russia in the early 1900's. It follows the story of young Katya and her family and the people around her living as Mennonites in Russia.
However, the book's the plot is very slow. It takes a couple of chapters for anything interesting to happen. The pages are filled with tireless descriptions and details of surroundings that, while beautiful, seem inconsequential in the long run. I found it took a lot of patience and time to read this novel.
The novel is also sprinkled with German words that made it hard to connect with the story. I have read books with Spanish words in them and at found the foreign words helpful for the context. But with those books I knew what the foreign words meant. I do not know any German so instead of the German words in Katya helping me, they hindered my understanding of the novel. The words were very distracting because I had no idea what they meant and at times I felt that they were important for understanding the sentence. You definitely have to consider your audience when using devices like this.
However, the book's the plot is very slow. It takes a couple of chapters for anything interesting to happen. The pages are filled with tireless descriptions and details of surroundings that, while beautiful, seem inconsequential in the long run. I found it took a lot of patience and time to read this novel.
The novel is also sprinkled with German words that made it hard to connect with the story. I have read books with Spanish words in them and at found the foreign words helpful for the context. But with those books I knew what the foreign words meant. I do not know any German so instead of the German words in Katya helping me, they hindered my understanding of the novel. The words were very distracting because I had no idea what they meant and at times I felt that they were important for understanding the sentence. You definitely have to consider your audience when using devices like this.
Monday, April 11, 2011
Thoughts on Peace Shall Destroy Many
I really enjoyed reading Rudy Wiebe's Peace Shall Destroy Many.
This statement doesn't seem quite right when you look at how mad the book made me sometimes but it is true. The books characters send you through a whirlwind of feelings as you trudge through some deep questions with Thom, the main character. And because I believe in peace and support our troops the questions Thom seeks to answer seem to hit home for me as well. After struggling to find the answer with Thom I find that, once again, I am taking the Methodist stance of "I don't know what the right answer is."
I think one of the most important issues brought up is summed up in this quote: "But the worst is the way some of the men, our people often too, don't understand or care what is really going on outside in the world. They're happy that their own conscience is satisfied- they care for no more...Am I to be concerned only with the final redemption of my own soul? Have we progressed so far as to call that Christ's teaching? Or do I do something for my neighbour also? Sometimes I think that planting trees is not enough of an answer to that question."
But the question is left unresolved because, as Thom points out, "what else can Christians do...? Surely not join in the killing."
In Joseph's letter to Thom he talks about the peace of reconciliation and the peace of conscience and how Christ brought about inner peace and that is not necessarily the same as outer, physical peace. I think this matter definitely comes up again in the last scenes of the book when Thom punches Herb to defend his friend Pete. Pete's statement to his father at the end goes a long way in giving an answer to the final scene and the questions brought forth in the book: "Pa, you have to do what you think right."
This statement doesn't seem quite right when you look at how mad the book made me sometimes but it is true. The books characters send you through a whirlwind of feelings as you trudge through some deep questions with Thom, the main character. And because I believe in peace and support our troops the questions Thom seeks to answer seem to hit home for me as well. After struggling to find the answer with Thom I find that, once again, I am taking the Methodist stance of "I don't know what the right answer is."
I think one of the most important issues brought up is summed up in this quote: "But the worst is the way some of the men, our people often too, don't understand or care what is really going on outside in the world. They're happy that their own conscience is satisfied- they care for no more...Am I to be concerned only with the final redemption of my own soul? Have we progressed so far as to call that Christ's teaching? Or do I do something for my neighbour also? Sometimes I think that planting trees is not enough of an answer to that question."
But the question is left unresolved because, as Thom points out, "what else can Christians do...? Surely not join in the killing."
In Joseph's letter to Thom he talks about the peace of reconciliation and the peace of conscience and how Christ brought about inner peace and that is not necessarily the same as outer, physical peace. I think this matter definitely comes up again in the last scenes of the book when Thom punches Herb to defend his friend Pete. Pete's statement to his father at the end goes a long way in giving an answer to the final scene and the questions brought forth in the book: "Pa, you have to do what you think right."
Saturday, March 26, 2011
Who I Am (personal essay)
I am a United Methodist. I do not really have any stories about my ethnicity to tell. Methodists do not really tell stories. We do not have the exciting heritage that Mennonites have. Our people did not come to America in one large group from the same country for the same reason. At least I do not think we did. We do not really talk about our heritage. I never heard stories about my ancestors from my grandparents; I discovered what I know about them through my own research.
The only relatives I have who attend my church, West Unity United Methodist Church, are my parents and my grandparents. Many of the families at my church, like mine, have relatives who attend churches of different denominations. We all have different last names and we do not think much about relations or where we came from. We do not have any ethnic foods that we eat like borscht or moon pies. We have potlucks once in a while but, then again, so do most churches.
No one in my church had ever been on a mission trip until last year when a group went to Nicaragua. There were only four of them and at least two had never been out of the country before. Usually we just have special offerings for projects or missions, most of which are in the United States.
In my church, we do not necessarily support the war but we do support our troops. We pray for them and we have a ministry to collect coupons to send to the troops. Every year on the Sunday closest to Veteran’s Day all of the veterans in my church wear their hats with all their pins and sit in the front row. As our pastor says the name of the service they were in, they stand and we recognize them. Some people get mad if we do not sing a song like “America, the Beautiful” on the Sunday closest to the Fourth of July. On one side of the stage in our sanctuary is the Christian flag and on the other side is the American flag.
Throughout my life, clarifying my denomination has not been very important. I can probably count on one hand the number of times I have been asked my denomination. When I look back at the poetry I have written, none of them speak of being a United Methodist. They do not mention denomination at all. When I write, I write as a Christian, not a Methodist. That’s the way I was taught. Just as we do not focus much on heritage, we do not focus on denomination. The stories my pastor reads from the Bible during the scripture lesson are not about Methodists or Baptists; they are about Christians.
If I walk into any of the churches in my town I do not think I will feel very out of place. I will know someone there from school or work. I went to a service at the Presbyterian Church in my community once and it was very similar in structure to my own church. In the past, the churches in my community have had joint services for Christmas Eve or in the summer we set up tents at the park and had a community church service where each church helped out.
Recently, while researching my family history, I discovered that I have deep Mennonite roots on both sides of my family. My grandfather attended a Mennonite church and so did my father until he married my mother and started attending her Methodist church which is where we attend still today. My mother’s family has a long Mennonite history but I know that our family has been United Methodist dating back to before 1853. When my great grandparents moved to West Unity, Ohio from Berne, Indiana they started attending the United Methodist church because, at that time, there was no Mennonite church in West Unity. It is very strange to think that under different circumstances I could be a Mennonite living in Berne, Indiana right now. If one decision had been made differently my entire life would be changed. It also brings up interesting questions. I have always been proud of my Methodist heritage. But am I a Methodist or a Mennonite? I love peace and shy away from conflict; I like doing service and want to get more involved with missions; I attend Goshen College and I love it. But even given all of these things, I still have to conclude that in my heart I am a Methodist. Having Mennonite ancestors changes the way I view my heritage, but it does not change the way I see my life.
I attended a public high school like everyone else in my town where we went to homecoming and prom and played the national anthem before every sporting event. When my maternal, Methodist grandfather could not serve in World War II he helped by being a mechanic. My paternal grandfather, who attended a Mennonite church, fought in the Korean War. I recycle when it is convenient but in the summer I will never pass up the chance to go for a two-hour motorcycle ride with my dad around the countryside with no destination in mind. I listen to country music where faith and patriotism go hand in hand.
When I was in junior high all of my classmates seemed to be turning away from God. I was the exact opposite. I loved God so much that I secretly wanted to die so that I could be in Heaven with Him. Since then my faith has hit a rough patch or two on its journey. Every time I read scripture I find more and more questions that I do not understand: why are there two stories in Genesis, why did God harden Pharoah’s heart, do we really have a choice if God already knows everything that will happen in our life?
Last year our Conference was faced with a controversy because one of the candidates for the new CFO (chief financial officer) position was homosexual. My pastor gave a special sermon on the subject. He was disturbed because he received a petition that was being passed from congregation to congregation about the matter. He did not try to persuade us which way to lean; he explained that it is difficult to decide the answer which is why the question keeps coming up and that as Methodists “we continue the discussion, until we know the right.” He ended with what has become our congregation’s motto: “For in the end, they will not know we are Christians by our legal system, or our staunch lines, or our stated Disciplines… they will know we are Christians by our… love. Love for God, love for each other, love for the strangers in our midst.”
All my life I have had trouble making decisions. As a senior in college I still do not know what career path I would like to pursue. And the issue of homosexuality, well, that has always been a touchy subject for me because, frankly, I do not know what the right view is- I see the truth in both arguments. I have always told people I do not know where I stand on the issue but I believe we should love and treat everyone with kindness, no matter what. When I told my pastor that Mennonites are known for their view on peace and asked him what Methodists are known for, he said our political activism. But I believe that we are known for putting love above everything else, for viewing and treating everyone the same. It does not matter where you come from or what you believe; we are all the same under God’s “roof.”
The only relatives I have who attend my church, West Unity United Methodist Church, are my parents and my grandparents. Many of the families at my church, like mine, have relatives who attend churches of different denominations. We all have different last names and we do not think much about relations or where we came from. We do not have any ethnic foods that we eat like borscht or moon pies. We have potlucks once in a while but, then again, so do most churches.
No one in my church had ever been on a mission trip until last year when a group went to Nicaragua. There were only four of them and at least two had never been out of the country before. Usually we just have special offerings for projects or missions, most of which are in the United States.
In my church, we do not necessarily support the war but we do support our troops. We pray for them and we have a ministry to collect coupons to send to the troops. Every year on the Sunday closest to Veteran’s Day all of the veterans in my church wear their hats with all their pins and sit in the front row. As our pastor says the name of the service they were in, they stand and we recognize them. Some people get mad if we do not sing a song like “America, the Beautiful” on the Sunday closest to the Fourth of July. On one side of the stage in our sanctuary is the Christian flag and on the other side is the American flag.
Throughout my life, clarifying my denomination has not been very important. I can probably count on one hand the number of times I have been asked my denomination. When I look back at the poetry I have written, none of them speak of being a United Methodist. They do not mention denomination at all. When I write, I write as a Christian, not a Methodist. That’s the way I was taught. Just as we do not focus much on heritage, we do not focus on denomination. The stories my pastor reads from the Bible during the scripture lesson are not about Methodists or Baptists; they are about Christians.
If I walk into any of the churches in my town I do not think I will feel very out of place. I will know someone there from school or work. I went to a service at the Presbyterian Church in my community once and it was very similar in structure to my own church. In the past, the churches in my community have had joint services for Christmas Eve or in the summer we set up tents at the park and had a community church service where each church helped out.
Recently, while researching my family history, I discovered that I have deep Mennonite roots on both sides of my family. My grandfather attended a Mennonite church and so did my father until he married my mother and started attending her Methodist church which is where we attend still today. My mother’s family has a long Mennonite history but I know that our family has been United Methodist dating back to before 1853. When my great grandparents moved to West Unity, Ohio from Berne, Indiana they started attending the United Methodist church because, at that time, there was no Mennonite church in West Unity. It is very strange to think that under different circumstances I could be a Mennonite living in Berne, Indiana right now. If one decision had been made differently my entire life would be changed. It also brings up interesting questions. I have always been proud of my Methodist heritage. But am I a Methodist or a Mennonite? I love peace and shy away from conflict; I like doing service and want to get more involved with missions; I attend Goshen College and I love it. But even given all of these things, I still have to conclude that in my heart I am a Methodist. Having Mennonite ancestors changes the way I view my heritage, but it does not change the way I see my life.
I attended a public high school like everyone else in my town where we went to homecoming and prom and played the national anthem before every sporting event. When my maternal, Methodist grandfather could not serve in World War II he helped by being a mechanic. My paternal grandfather, who attended a Mennonite church, fought in the Korean War. I recycle when it is convenient but in the summer I will never pass up the chance to go for a two-hour motorcycle ride with my dad around the countryside with no destination in mind. I listen to country music where faith and patriotism go hand in hand.
When I was in junior high all of my classmates seemed to be turning away from God. I was the exact opposite. I loved God so much that I secretly wanted to die so that I could be in Heaven with Him. Since then my faith has hit a rough patch or two on its journey. Every time I read scripture I find more and more questions that I do not understand: why are there two stories in Genesis, why did God harden Pharoah’s heart, do we really have a choice if God already knows everything that will happen in our life?
Last year our Conference was faced with a controversy because one of the candidates for the new CFO (chief financial officer) position was homosexual. My pastor gave a special sermon on the subject. He was disturbed because he received a petition that was being passed from congregation to congregation about the matter. He did not try to persuade us which way to lean; he explained that it is difficult to decide the answer which is why the question keeps coming up and that as Methodists “we continue the discussion, until we know the right.” He ended with what has become our congregation’s motto: “For in the end, they will not know we are Christians by our legal system, or our staunch lines, or our stated Disciplines… they will know we are Christians by our… love. Love for God, love for each other, love for the strangers in our midst.”
All my life I have had trouble making decisions. As a senior in college I still do not know what career path I would like to pursue. And the issue of homosexuality, well, that has always been a touchy subject for me because, frankly, I do not know what the right view is- I see the truth in both arguments. I have always told people I do not know where I stand on the issue but I believe we should love and treat everyone with kindness, no matter what. When I told my pastor that Mennonites are known for their view on peace and asked him what Methodists are known for, he said our political activism. But I believe that we are known for putting love above everything else, for viewing and treating everyone the same. It does not matter where you come from or what you believe; we are all the same under God’s “roof.”
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Fiction's Place in Mennonite Literature
Fiction seems to be a new phenomenon in the Mennonite world. There is not very much fiction by Mennonite authors in existence. I think it is in the back burner of their minds when it comes to writing. There is a much more prominent collection of poetry, essays, and other nonfiction in Mennonite writing. Even in the Mennonite fiction I have read, there seems to be a lot of nonfiction intermingled.
It is easy to use actual experiences to shape fictional stories. In fact, that is the route most fiction writers take. You will scarcely find a piece of fiction that does not have some truth or reality in it about the writer. All of Jack Dueck’s stories had some nonfiction basis in them. He is the modern day troubadour, capturing stories of the Mennonite world and writing them down, making sure they are still told in days to come. Dueck’s stories are based on experience and written for those who will listen. He writes the inside stories but they are also the everyday stories that warm people’s hearts. I do not think there is anyone who has objected to the accuracy with which he tells these stories.
Sidney King’s Pearl Diver is also sprinkled with nonfiction aspects. Through Hannah, King explores the difficult question that Mennonite writers are faced with: do they tell the stories of their community? Are they theirs to tell? In Pearl Diver, this question seems even harder to answer because, while it seems that the story of her mother’s death is definitely Hannah’s story to tell, it is also Marian’s story and her wishes and feelings are important too; especially in light of the secret she carries with her about that night. King also explores the ways that Mennonites practice being “in the world but not of it.” I believe this practice is the reason for the shortage of Mennonite fiction in the world. I think the viewpoint is something like “why spend your time making up wild stories when you should be using your time to study the word of God.” Although the story is fiction the issues it presents are very real within the Mennonite world.
Stephen Byler’s Searching for Intruders contains a lot of nonfiction in it. If one knows Byler’s biography, it becomes very obvious that Wilson Hues is the spitting image of Byler. But Byler’s story is different as it is without question his story to tell, being his life.
There are many questions to consider about fiction if the work is going to have any basis in nonfiction. Even Rudy Weibe’s Peace Shall Destroy Many, which is pure fiction but is based on the Canadian Mennonite community he was raised in, caused him some grief when the people of that community did not agree with his portrayal. The question is posed here of being culturally accurate or humanly compelling. In my mind I believe that being humanly compelling should win out. In my mind, Weibe’s community should not take offense at his writing because it is clearly labeled as a work of fiction and as such he has the right to write it however he pleases. Saying that his book is based on an actual place does not mean that it is an exact replica, it only means that parts may seem similar while other parts may not.
All of this said, I do not think the role of Mennonite fiction in the future will be very large. I think the subject will continue to be controversial and that these issues will hinder its growth. Even if this genre does continue to grow within the realm of Mennonite literature, Mennonites are such a small and specialized group that I do not think it is possible for Mennonite fiction to play an important or large role in literature as a whole.
It is easy to use actual experiences to shape fictional stories. In fact, that is the route most fiction writers take. You will scarcely find a piece of fiction that does not have some truth or reality in it about the writer. All of Jack Dueck’s stories had some nonfiction basis in them. He is the modern day troubadour, capturing stories of the Mennonite world and writing them down, making sure they are still told in days to come. Dueck’s stories are based on experience and written for those who will listen. He writes the inside stories but they are also the everyday stories that warm people’s hearts. I do not think there is anyone who has objected to the accuracy with which he tells these stories.
Sidney King’s Pearl Diver is also sprinkled with nonfiction aspects. Through Hannah, King explores the difficult question that Mennonite writers are faced with: do they tell the stories of their community? Are they theirs to tell? In Pearl Diver, this question seems even harder to answer because, while it seems that the story of her mother’s death is definitely Hannah’s story to tell, it is also Marian’s story and her wishes and feelings are important too; especially in light of the secret she carries with her about that night. King also explores the ways that Mennonites practice being “in the world but not of it.” I believe this practice is the reason for the shortage of Mennonite fiction in the world. I think the viewpoint is something like “why spend your time making up wild stories when you should be using your time to study the word of God.” Although the story is fiction the issues it presents are very real within the Mennonite world.
Stephen Byler’s Searching for Intruders contains a lot of nonfiction in it. If one knows Byler’s biography, it becomes very obvious that Wilson Hues is the spitting image of Byler. But Byler’s story is different as it is without question his story to tell, being his life.
There are many questions to consider about fiction if the work is going to have any basis in nonfiction. Even Rudy Weibe’s Peace Shall Destroy Many, which is pure fiction but is based on the Canadian Mennonite community he was raised in, caused him some grief when the people of that community did not agree with his portrayal. The question is posed here of being culturally accurate or humanly compelling. In my mind I believe that being humanly compelling should win out. In my mind, Weibe’s community should not take offense at his writing because it is clearly labeled as a work of fiction and as such he has the right to write it however he pleases. Saying that his book is based on an actual place does not mean that it is an exact replica, it only means that parts may seem similar while other parts may not.
All of this said, I do not think the role of Mennonite fiction in the future will be very large. I think the subject will continue to be controversial and that these issues will hinder its growth. Even if this genre does continue to grow within the realm of Mennonite literature, Mennonites are such a small and specialized group that I do not think it is possible for Mennonite fiction to play an important or large role in literature as a whole.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
A Different Perspective
My senior seminar class is reading a book by Julia Kasdorf titled The Body and the Book. While reading the essay for this week's class, I found it really correlated with Mennonite Literature too. In Julia's essay, "Preacher's Striptease," she discusses Jeff Gundy's poem, "How to Write the New Mennonite Poem." She calls the poem a "spoof" that "pokes fun at the overly self-conscious "new Mennonite" poet who has internalized society's desire for cultural stereotypes and who clutters his poems with signs of authenticity... at the same time, the writer projects the correct Mennonite attitude that is a combination of humility and respect for one's tradition." I was surprised by Kasdorf's interpretation of Gundy's poem. In class we had talked about Gundy's poem as a response to Kasdorf's poem "Mennonites." Kasdorf seems to think, rather, that Gundy's poem is a spoof on "new Mennonite" poets like David Wright, although David's "A New Mennonite Replies to Julia Kasdorf" was written after Gundy's poem and only mentions these "stereotypes" when he is expressing how he does not fit them. Later in the essay, Kasdorf discusses Wright's poem also, and assesses it as a response to Gundy's poem, "offering an alternative, authentic image of the "new Mennonite"- as opposed to Gundy's parodic "new Mennonite poem."
I thought it was very interesting to hear the author of one of the poems in this discussion give her opinion. I remembered how our professor, Ann, said that Kasdorf and Gundy are good friends and I wonder what their conversations about each other's work is like, especially given that Gundy's poem is a response to Kasdorf's.
I thought it was very interesting to hear the author of one of the poems in this discussion give her opinion. I remembered how our professor, Ann, said that Kasdorf and Gundy are good friends and I wonder what their conversations about each other's work is like, especially given that Gundy's poem is a response to Kasdorf's.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
A Visit to the Mennonite Historical Library at Goshen College
After talking a little about geneology in our Mennonite Literature class I decided to look deeper into my ancestry. A few years ago I had done some geneology work for a class at my community college so I knew my grandparents had some information on our history. I remembered that on my dad's side my family had been Mennonites but what I found on my mother's side surprised me. It turns I come from a very Mennonite background on both sides of my family. In leafing through an extensive booklet of Neuhauser (my maternal grandmother's maiden name) geneology written in 1975, I found among my relatives names such as Menno, Amos, Ezra, and Noah. When looking at last names, I was surprised when I came across common Goshen College last names such as Yoder, Amstutz, and Miller.
I had some questions concerning the first two generations in the book because the author was not sure if they were correct. At the suggestion of Ann I took my questions to Joe Springer at the Mennonite Historical Library on the GC campus. Joe was so helpful. He could answer all my questions. Within minutes he had looked up my family online and could say "these are your relatives." I was so thrilled. And he was able to confirm this information through a copy of the shipping log from the ship my great great great grandfather came to the U.S. on from France. He also found his birth certificate from 1808 written in sprawling french and read it for me and gave me copies of all of this. He showed me how to use ancestry.com to do more research on my own. I have always been interested in geneology and I am grateful to have this resource of the Mennonite Historical Library available to me. I was able to go back five more generations from this great great great grandfather. I plan to research other branches of my family further and see what interesting things I am able to discover and share with my family.
I had some questions concerning the first two generations in the book because the author was not sure if they were correct. At the suggestion of Ann I took my questions to Joe Springer at the Mennonite Historical Library on the GC campus. Joe was so helpful. He could answer all my questions. Within minutes he had looked up my family online and could say "these are your relatives." I was so thrilled. And he was able to confirm this information through a copy of the shipping log from the ship my great great great grandfather came to the U.S. on from France. He also found his birth certificate from 1808 written in sprawling french and read it for me and gave me copies of all of this. He showed me how to use ancestry.com to do more research on my own. I have always been interested in geneology and I am grateful to have this resource of the Mennonite Historical Library available to me. I was able to go back five more generations from this great great great grandfather. I plan to research other branches of my family further and see what interesting things I am able to discover and share with my family.
Monday, February 21, 2011
Response to Rhubarb Issue (winter 09, #24)
While this issue of the Rhubarb magazine is centered on the single theme of American writing on traveling and homecoming, the genre of work it presents is very eclectic. Most of the issue is comprised of poems and short works of nonfiction but it also includes book reviews, an artist’s statement, an interview, and a translated Arabic poem. Each of these mediums of writing offer a different view of the journeys Mennonites take and how those journeys affect them.
When I first opened this magazine issue I thought that all of the pieces would be about remarkable trips to far off countries and, while many of them were, the works that I enjoyed the most are the ones that deal with a different kind of travel. Linda Wendling does not physically go anywhere in her story “Cosmonaut Girl Lost in Space.” Her story is more about traveling inside her mind and going back to a time in the past when her mother was still alive. She also remembers a trip she once took to Java to the top of a volcano. Her stories twist and meld together the lost feeling after her mother’s death and being lost on a volcano in Java, and straighten out when she finds her way back home.
Kirsten Beachy’s “Last Mile” is also steered more toward the wanderings of the mind than of the actual physical journey. The canoe trip sparks her minds wanderings but it are the narrator’s thoughts that travel further, leaving behind friends and the here and now and traveling to a hypothetical “what if?” of a looming possible hidden romance.
When Jean Janzen returns to her home town for a reunion in “Sleeping in the Cellar,” her memories are so strong and so quietly slipped in to the present that as you read you forget that the narrator is a fifty year old mother and not a ten year old girl. She gives a different view of basements as she talks of being one with the earth she is within as she sleeps below the ground. She is reminded of how she came to be in this place, of her father emigrating from Europe and how she returns to the place of her ancestors, completing the circle.
In Melanie Zuercher’s “High on a Mountain,” Zuercher’s spring break trip to the Appalachian Mountains inspires her to take a trip back home to a mountain she is more familiar with. For Zuercher, mountaintops are places of refuge, of peace and memories. She does not need to travel great distances, she just goes up.
My favorite piece in this issue discusses an entirely different kind of travel. In “The Road to Amish Country,” Rachel Yoder travels with her dad to a different county but most importantly, it is a journey to a different culture. I was intrigued by this new view of Mennonites and the Amish. Yoder’s presents us with a unique view of the gap between Mennonites and Amish people as only someone in her position has the power to do. She also provides a good insight into the culture and ideas of her former Amish father as he struggles with his past and his present and how to make them work together. Being a Methodist, Yoder’s story is a valuable insight for me into the relationship between the Amish and Mennonites.
I was also intrigued and surprised by the issue as a whole. Even before I turned the first page I was struck by the cover of the magazine. The cover two very polar images: what looks like an Amish buggy and the outline of a seemingly naked girl dancing. The second image is so far from what I have learned about Mennonite beliefs and traditions and some of the pieces in the issue carried with them this same surprise as they contain swear words, talk of sex, and thoughts of affairs. This was not at all what I was expecting in a Mennonite magazine. Maybe this new look of Mennonite art and literature that is starting to appear is indicative of changes that the Mennonite faith is going through or at the very least it is indicative of the difference between liberal and conservative Mennonites.
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Thoughts on Mennonite In A Little Black Dress
I can most definitely say that Mennonite in a Little Black Dress is not one of my favorite books. In fact, I really did not like it at all. When I started the book I was surprised by Janzen's humor; I thought I would get used to it but it just bothered me the entire time. This semester I am in a class called Writing the Memoir so maybe I am looking at this in a different perspective than most people in the class. I know I do not want to copy Rhoda Janzen. Her book is full of huge segues because she will leave one story to go off on another and by the time she goes back to the first story the reader has forgotten it or how the two connect. As a writer, Janzen's book brings to mind how I want to go about writing my own memoir as far as talking about family and friends. I felt bad for the people Janzen wrote about and hoped that she had asked their permission first before she said what she said about them. I definitely will think twice about what I write about people.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Pearl Diver Response
The film Pearl Diver portrays all Mennonites as simple farmers who avoid confrontation. There is a lot of confrontation between Marian and Hannah but I am thinking more in the sense of confrontation with the outside world in the way that they seem to keep to themselves. They are tight knit in their Mennonite sphere but they don’t really venture away from that sphere. They keep their business private. They are simple and strict and do not get mixed up in the ways of the world.
The film seems to perpetuate a lot of stereotypes about the way Mennonites dress and act and the churches they attend. Most Mennonites I know don’t wear such plain clothes or hair coverings.
I think that Goshen is a good location choice because of its high Mennonite population. People can watch the movie and know that it is a real town that actually exists and not a set created to fit the movie. However, it does seem to narrow the audience. People from Goshen may understand things that others do not. Some inferences may have more meaning to some than to others.
The film seems to use technology to connect the main characters back to the old traditions of the church through the typewriter and the tractor and the burying of the necklace in the land. There is still that attachment to the old ways no matter how things may change.
Through Hannah’s manuscript, the film suggests that the Mennonite Writer and the Mennonite community will not often see eye to eye because the writer writes so that others will see their work while the community does not want their stories out for the public to see. The work of a writer is not something they particularly agree with.
CMW Response
In the current issue (Vo. 2 No. 8) of the CMW journal, the Indianapolis Writers Group focuses on Mennonite Identity. The five members of the group each submitted article(s) and/ or poems that seek to uncover what it means to be a Mennonite, each having different answers because of their wide scope of experiences as Mennonites.
This issue of the CMW journal caught my attention because of its theme. Being a United Methodist, I do not know very much about Mennonites and their customs, beliefs, and focuses. This issue is all about Mennonites seeking to explain what is a Mennonite. In seeking to find the answer to this question I was pulled to this issue because of the different backgrounds of each of the writers who try to answer this question, especially “An Aggressive Mennonite” by Rodney Deaton. I was excited to read a “non-cradle” Mennonite’s view of the Mennonite world.
All of the authors in the issue seek to explain their viewpoint on Mennonite identity by telling their experience in the Mennonite world. Daniel Hess, a “cradle” Mennonite, describes growing up in the very conservative Lancaster county Mennonite community and trying to keep harmony with them as he becomes less conservative. Martha Yoder Maust talks of her experiences with many Mennonites all over the world and learning from their different viewpoints. Ryan Ahlgrim started attending the Mennonite church when he was a boy and discusses coming into the Mennonite world with different traditions and habits than the other children in his Sunday School classes. Rodney Deaton’s experience as a Mennonite is quite different from the other authors in the issue because he became a Mennonite as an adult. He talks about mixing his non-Mennonite customs with those of the Mennonite ones he adopted. Shari Wagner Miller’s poems talk of the life of a Mennonite farm wife.
This issue of the CMW journal is inherently Mennonite, not solely because the subject is being a Mennonite. Each article seeks to find peace and harmony where there is disunity. Many of the articles show a belief in the importance of service and supporting each other and how the authors practice these beliefs throughout their daily lives. Although their Mennonite journeys may have had twists and turns to get to where they are, they still hold to the core values of the Mennonite faith of following Jesus’ example, striving for nonviolence and harmony, and providing service and support for each other. Hess not only tries to create harmony with his parents and home church in his autobiographical article but also in the three Garden poems he wrote. Martha Yoder Maust seeks to do service through her gleaning while also seeking to keep harmony with those who do not understand why she gleans. Rodney Deaton takes a different approach to harmony. He sees the world differently than Mennonites who grew up in the Mennonite church and is okay with that. He simply asks others to try to understand his hybrid view of nonviolence.
After reading this issue on Mennonite identity, I still have questions about the views of Mennonites. However, these questions center around the views of the more conservative Mennonite outlook. I do not understand the strictness of their rules. But then again, I have found that in almost every denomination one can find a conservative branch that is hard to grasp, or a branch of the same faith quite different from the others.
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