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.
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