Currently Reading

[littlerdog.livejournal.com]

The book du jour is The Unredeemed Captive: A Family Story from Early America by John Demos. It was found on the shelves at the back of the local bookshop, grabbed by the scruff and hauled off to the cash desk. Most ruthlessly.

I'm on page 111.

"The priest tries to dissuade them but cannot. They know their minds, and will have what they want. They have reached this point from radically different directions and refuse now to turn back."

The book is based on the experiences of the Williams family, who were attacked in their New England home of Deerfield in 1704. Some were murdered there, Mrs Williams on the march to Canada as a captive of French-Canadian Iroquois, and the survivors split up among various 'masters' once their destination was reached. The focus of the narrative is supposedly on Eunice Williams, whose captors refused to release, exchange or ransom her, but her voice does not appear much on the pages. Instead, we hear from her father and brothers, and from various people engaged in attempts to negotiate her return to New England.

When I was much younger, I had a romantic interest in Native Americans, possibly the result of watching too many Westerns. I read some books by Dee Brown and while I didn't go the 'noble savage' route, I did feel sympathy with peoples who had lost everything and been almost obliterated. This interest lapsed for many years and was only revived when I read the fascinating 1491: The Americas Before Columbus by Charles Mann. I've also read Ancient Mariner by Ken McGoogan, which inspired me to think that on the whole I'd have been better off reading Hearne's original ms instead. Not that I have. Yet.

By far the most aggravating aspect of Demos's book is the endless religion. It's a necessary part of understanding events, especially as Mr Williams is a Puritan minister, and his children were in the hands of 'popery', ie Catholics, but oh it's tedious and dispiriting. At one point it seems likely that Williams believes his family's travails were the result of sin in the Deerfield community. He can't blame God so he has to blame people--not the people who murdered his wife, but his own parishioners. Such I suppose are the convolutions of a mind that has to reconcile belief in a God of infinite love with the ugly reality of life.

So far, however, it's a mostly interesting and engaging read. Some more context and background would however be useful to someone who lacks a firm grounding in American history.

I shall read on.