In late 2010, long before Borders was officially closing
down, the novel West of Here arrived as ARC at my store. Still coming down from
the high that was filming Judas Kiss in Seattle and remembering the grandeur and
beauty of the area, I was intrigued by the book –an ambitious historical book
on the Pacific Northwest. But as most book readers will tell you –and even writers- a
lot of books end up on the shelf because either one other novel takes precedence
or –as sometimes happens- you are not in the mood to read it. Such as what
happened with Jonathan Evison’s book. I
eventually passed on the ARC to my friend Carlos –writer of Judas Kiss- because
he lives in Seattle when not roaming the United States (though by live, I mean
it’s more of a place where he hangs a hat for a few weeks. I also never
expected the book back, because I have so many others to read).
But something strange happened. The idea of the book never
left me, and while I never thought about the book during Borders closing, I had
been haunting used bookstores in search of it (which also brought me the
realization that used bookstores very rarely have more unusual titles beyond
really popular books. Finding “literature” amongst the mass produced,
broad-based fiction is very hard in small used stores, which is why I have to
venture to The Last Bookstore or Iliad’s these days to find titles outside of
the James Patterson, Nora Roberts and Danielle Steele that haunt those types of
stores).
I love history, but it can sometimes be dry and too academic.
I have a few history books in boxes here, ones that I want to get to
eventually, but as Lemony Snicket says, “It is likely I will die next to a pile
of things I was meaning to read.”
The fictional town of Port Bonita — a stand-in for Port
Angeles — is at the center of West of Here, which is dually set in the winter
of 1889-90 and the summer of 2006, as the story follows those hoping to build
their legacies in the wilds of Washington state's Olympic Peninsula and their
raggedy ancestors who, ironically, have lost the will that Manifest Destiny
that excited their distant relatives. Evison cram’s a few novels into this ambitious
book, along with a large set of characters and as the book steamed along, I
became more interested in the people that made Port Bonita, especially
characters like Eva –a pregnant, proto-suffragette woman from a wealthy family
who longs to show her family and her baby’s father, Ethan, that she can survive
in this new, utopian society. And then there is Thomas, the Indian boy known as
the Storm King in 1890, and his metaphysical -maybe magical- connection to
sullen teenager Curtis in 2006.
The novel has many parallels in the book – like how in the
past, people seemed more adventurous, where in the present, and the town’s folk
seemed trapped, not able to get away, and the author has a flare for
description of the town and its people, but they do come off as superficial –maybe
because he tried to cram too much into a slim book –it’s only 484 pages long.
Still, Evison is a good writer, and the story very
entertaining, if not unwieldy towards the end. But overall, a fun –and sometimes
funny – look at the past and the present.
Elegant, wise, passionate, breathtaking, and sublimely written, Jonathan Evison is a contemporary master in storytelling. Numerous plotlines are tossed before the eyes of the reader yet Evison limns these troubled and aching narratives together with tenderness, care, and precision. Where much of modern literature leans towards the predictable, the yawnable West of Here sends a shot of 480 volts through the veins.
ReplyDeleteTwo thumbs up!