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Review : With, a brutal,
fanciful Stay More tale
by Brian Walter
for the Arkansas Democrat-Gazette
With, by Donald Harington, Toby Press, 491 pages, $19.95 Early in the 10th
chapter of Donald Harington's startling and triumphant new novel With, the
main character, Robin Kerr, poses an impossible question: "Why is this
happening?"
The question is not just impossible for 7-year-old Robin to answer. How
could anyone plausibly explain what has happened to her - innocently
attending a friend's birthday party at the local skating rink only to be
whisked away by a former policeman who intends to make her his "truelove"?
Robin's story is every parent's nightmare : the unspeakable prospect of
an innocent child falling into the clutches of a cunning and ruthless adult
predator. But in the deft hands of Harington, this most harrowing of setups
gradually becomes a marvelous story of improbable growth, heroic resolve,
and life-giving love.
With is still a Harington novel - which is to say a work of sprightly,
delightful humor. But With mixes the light with the very dark, winning
plenty of surprising laughter from Robin's grim situation but not in the
least sugar-coating that grimness.
This is Harington's signature talent. In book after book since his first
novel, The Cherry Pit, appeared in 1965, Harington has wrung divinely
improbable comedy from the trials and horrors that his characters undergo.
But in telling the remarkable story of Robin Kerr's abduction and
hardscrabble life on Madewell Mountain, With conjures a magic that is
exceptional even for Harington.
Many years and several novels have passed since a critic labeled
Harington "America's greatest unknown novelist." But to judge from the
enthusiasm that With has already generated among critics, Harington may
finally have found the story line that will remove the last adjective from
that backhanded compliment.
THE MAYOR OF STAY MORE When you meet Donald Harington for the first
time, two things will probably strike you: first, he is quite tall, and
second, he smiles a lot. And while the impression made by his 6-foot-5-inch
frame will soon pass, the smile - and the air of a mysterious good humor
that goes along with it - probably will not.
Part of the mystery stems from Harington's near-deafness. A bout with
viral meningitis at 12 robbed the young Don of most of his hearing. So
whatever it is that has put him in a good mood, it is probably not something
you just said (however clever).
Harington's wife, Kim, has an explanation for the smile. When Don is
puttering about the house, happily humming to himself, he is, as she puts
it, "in Stay More."
Harington's answer to William Faulkner's Yoknapatawpha County, Stay More
is the Ozark mountain village that has served as home or haunt to the
characters of all his novels since 1970's Lightning Bug. The name comes from
the residents' polite entreaty to departing guests.
But Stay More provides much more than an idyllic rural setting for
Harington's novels. In stories spanning 10 novels and more than 150 years,
Stay More has emerged as a surprisingly versatile version of the American
Eden - a place where compelling innocence is still possible even if the Fall
was inevitable.
American writers have long wrestled with the dream of a return to Eden.
Even a partial list of their names makes for an impressive and varied honor
roll: James Fenimore Cooper, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Walt Whitman, Robert
Frost, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Faulkner and Toni Morrison, to name a few.
But the image of an American Eden predates all these writers, hearkening
back still further to the sermons delivered by the Puritans as they sailed
the Atlantic for the wilds of the New World. The early spiritual leaders
preached that they were forsaking the corruption of old Europe for a
promised land that would - with God's blessing - overflow with milk and
honey.
Not surprisingly, America did not lend itself too readily to these
idealized visions. In fact, with the possible exception of the ecstatic
maverick Whitman, American writers usually showed just how far short of the
Eden ideal their young country would fall.
Hawthorne and Faulkner, in particular, brooded over the sins committed
by their fathers, sins that belied a simple myth of paradise regained in
America.
But where other American writers have exposed the myth of a new Eden,
Harington has found a way of having the apple and eating it too. Over and
over again, his characters taste the devastating knowledge of good and evil,
but without letting their newfound knowledge exile them from paradise.
Instead, it only roots them still more deeply in Stay More.
In The Choiring of the Trees, for example, Nail Chism begins as the very
emblem of pastoral innocence: a shepherd tending his flock in the high
pastures above Stay More. But when he refuses to run moonshine during
Prohibition, his honesty lands him on death row, framed for a rape he didn't
commit.
Nail is severely beaten and led away more than once to the electric
chair, but his inspired comedian of an author has better things in mind for
him. An improbable chain of events allows Nail eventually to escape and make
a harrowing return to Stay More. There, he will have to spend the rest of
his life in hiding, but with the very woman who was to draw his portrait at
the execution.
The tortures Nail undergoes on death row are almost indescribable,
brutalities that no one should have to endure. But it is only his time on
death row that leads Nail to discover a literally life-saving love. This is
the gift that Harington almost invariably finds a way to bestow on his
characters.
In the Eden of Stay More, the serpent is a fixture, always seducing
Harington's characters into shattering knowledge. But when they have fallen
as far as they can go, Harington's characters find a way to redeem the loss.
The trick, they learn, is not to regard the serpent as their mortal enemy,
but instead to recognize in him their mortal friend.
WHY IS THIS HAPPENING? In With, the serpent takes the form of Sugrue "Sog"
Alan, the retired police officer and pedophile who kidnaps Robin. Sog has
been working "pedo" cases for years, slyly confiscating lurid magazines and
scheming for the day when he can capture his own "truelove."
When a drug bust unexpectedly lands him a stash of untraceable money,
Sog takes an early retirement and begins to turn his pollutive dreams into
sordid reality.
This is not Sog's first appearance in a Harington novel. He plays an
important part in Some Other Place, The Right Place and, especially, in When
Angels Rest.
When Angels Rest, in fact, opens with the 12-year-old narrator Donny
explaining how the 17-year-old Sog broke his arm with a baseball bat. It is
the first of many cruel acts that Sog will commit on Donny's watch.
A violent bully all his life, Sog is an almost unbearably revolting
figure. But he plays a crucial role for Harington: a natural foil for
innocence, a man who cannot help inflicting his own self loathing on the
innocents he meets.
In With, Sog also represents a terrific challenge for his author, whose
personal brand of comedy requires his characters ultimately to see the
corrupting serpent as a friend. How could Robin (or the reader, for that
matter) ever embrace such a repulsive figure?
As improbable as it seems, Harington pulls it off. For while Sog does
make Robin his victim, he also (through no intention of his own) gives her
an unexpected but superb gift: the opportunity to develop a resourcefulness
and independence that she never would have needed growing up in the town of
Harrison.
As the years pass on Madewell Mountain, Robin does not merely survive,
but learns to thrive on her hard but simple life. Armed with a Farmer's
Cyclopaedia and the supplies Sog laid in, Robin becomes Stay More's version
of her namesake, Robinson Crusoe, working the land to feed and sustain
herself through all the seasons and even a terrible drought.
But even more importantly, Sog tells Robin stories of Stay More. Without
books or television or any of the other typical sources of stories to feed
her hungry imagination, Robin takes Stay More and makes it her own, using
cut-out dolls to replay and embellish the town's history.
It is a delightful and poignant touch that connects Robin to her author.
In her exile, Robin has no resource but her own imagination to keep the
loneliness at bay. The yearning for human contact that marks all of
Harington's characters transforms Robin into a storyteller of inspired
invention - much like Harington himself.
What does not kill Robin ultimately makes her stronger, not to mention
richer and more meaningfully happy than she would otherwise have been. Why
is this happening? So that the cruelty of Robin's fate can gradually become
a blessing - thanks to Robin's ever-smiling author.
STAYING MORE Harington is already knee-deep in his next novel, about a
man who shows movies around the small towns of Newton County during the
Depression. He tries to avoid Stay More in his circuit because of some
painful childhood associations, but it's a safe bet that he won't manage to
stay away from it forever not with Harington generously devising his fate.
As for With, Harington is pleased to note the strong early notices it
has generated. Publishers Weekly and Kirkus Reviews have already given it
starred reviews, and Booklist has praised it warmly. Harington has been
writing novels long enough not to try to predict sales figures, but these
and other initial responses have certainly been encouraging.
Still, if Harington were writing the story of With's fate on the
mercurial fiction market, what kind of a happy ending would he devise for
it? Would he use the future tense at the end of the story (as he does in all
his novels) to let With take the best seller lists by storm in some fond
future?
If the answer is yes, it will only be yes with an ironic twist. With
will vault to No. 1 only the day after the author - in despair over his
unending obscurity - will remove himself permanently to Stay More, first
after staging his own death to ward off all attempts to track him down.
In Stay More, the author will shut off all communication with the
outside world, holing himself up to write more stories under a pseudonym. He
will never learn that With has made him famous, or that it could have made
him rich.
But it will not matter. Because as the one permanent resident of Stay
More, a land blessed by time, he has more riches at his fingertips than he
could ever fully spend. Brian Walter teaches English and film studies for
Washington University in St. Louis. Donald Harington's Web site is
http://donaldharington.com
Harington signings Donald Harington will sign copies of his new novel, With,
and his other novels at the following times and places: 1-2:30 p.m.
Saturday, Tyler & Tyler Booksellers, 4558 John F. Kennedy Blvd., North
Little Rock; 3-4:30 p.m. Saturday at WordsWorth Books & Company, 5920 R St.
in Little Rock; 11 a.m. April 24, Arkansas Literary Festival at the River
Market in Little Rock; 2-4 p.m. May 1, Barnes & Noble Booksellers,
Fayetteville; 2-4 p.m. May 2, Carnegie Public Library, Eureka Springs; 5
p.m. May 6, Square Books, Oxford, Miss.; 5-7 p.m. May 7, Burke's Book Store,
1719 Poplar Ave., Memphis; and 1 p.m. May 8, That Bookstore, 316 W. Main
St., Blytheville.
This story was published Sunday, April 11, 2004
WASHINGTON POST BOOK WORLD REVIEW SERVICE
By WASHINGTON POST BOOK WORLD REVIEW SERVICE
WITH
By Donald Harington. Toby. 491 pp. $19.95
Reviewed by Steven Moore
I wish I could avoid describing this wonderful novel in any detail, for
certain of its elements (like pedophilia) will alienate some readers, and
others will stop reading this review as soon as I mention that another plot
element involves a young girl who communicates with a dog via a Ouija board.
(Wait, come back! See what I mean?) With depends more than most novels on
narrative surprises, which I shouldn't give away. And simply ending my
review right here by praising With as the sweetest child abduction story
I've ever read clearly won't do. This will be tricky.
For nearly 30 years, Donald Harington has been writing ingenious novels set
in Arkansas's Ozark Mountains, mostly in a small town called Stay More.
Despite rave reviews, his novels have never risen above cult status, and he
has won the dubious honor of being called "America's Greatest Unknown
Novelist". (I'll confess I'd never heard of him until last year, when a
colleague began urging his novels on me.) He has earned his keep as an art
professor, primarily at the University of Arkansas but with spells up North.
I can't put it off any longer, so here goes: With begins like a sleazy story
out of an old Police Gazette but ends like a feminist revision of Genesis.
In the early 1970s, Sugrue ("Sog") Alan, an Arkansas state trooper nearing
retirement who lucked into half-a-million dollars when killing a drug dealer
unobserved, decides to disappear. He locates a long-abandoned and nearly
inaccessible house at the top of nearby Madewell Mountain, buys enough
supplies to last him for years and tells everyone he's moving to California.
He moves all his stuff up to the mountain retreat and lacks only one more
necessity: a child bride.
Beautiful, blonde Robin Kerr is 7 1/2 when the novel opens, Alice's age in
Through the Looking-Glass. Sog stalks and snatches her, installing her in a
different kind of wonderland where she will remain for the next 10 years.
(For various reasons he doesn't molest her, though not for lack of trying.)
Robin tries but fails to escape, resigns herself to her situation and slowly
begins her unplanned metamorphosis from spoiled city girl to nature goddess.
Sog's dog seems to be the only other resident for a while. After Sog ceases
to play an active role (that circumlocution is necessary to avoid spoiling
the plot and to account for the different role he plays in the second half
of the novel), Robin is joined by other animals: a bobcat, a litter of
puppies, a raccoon, a snake, a fawn and others, all of whom learn to
communicate with Robin and with each other.
And then there's the spirit of former resident Adam Madewell, 12 years old
when his parents forced him to accompany them to California years before the
novel opens, and forever 12 as he continues to haunt his old homestead as an
"in-habit." (We're told that "An in-habit is part of someone who loves a
particular place so very much that regardless of where they go they always
leave their in-habit behind.") Though With is primarily Robin's story, we
get Adam's as well; he eventually decides to return to Stay More, but this
Adam is unaware that a new Eve inhabits his old paradise which his in-habit
never left.
As confusing as this may sound, With is a joy to read, partly due to the
variety of audacious techniques Harington uses. First, each chapter is
narrated from the point of view of a specific character, which may not sound
all that innovative until you learn that many of these characters are not
human. (Robin's menagerie not only learns to communicate with their mistress
and with each other, but also with you, dear reader.) He manipulates verb
tenses, moving from past to present to future as the narrative requires. By
way of literary allusion, Harington aligns his novel with similar
adventures; we are told, for good reason, "Among the hundreds of books that
Adam read at the Yountville Public Library were Stevenson's Silverado
Squatters . . . as well as his Treasure Island. He also enjoyed Daniel
Defoe's Robinson Crusoe and W. H. Hudson's Green Mansions."
Like all of these works, With explores the pluses and minuses of abandoning
civilization for a solitary life communing with nature. Sog wanted to
isolate himself because he became convinced that "the world was just no damn
good, life was a joke, the world was full of meanness and wrongdoing and
corruption and selfishness and evil and backstabbing and shoddy merchandise
and wickedness and bum raps and disorderly conduct and weakness and
malpractice and greed and moral turpitude and what not. It had been his plan
to learn her to appreciate the isolation of this wilderness that protected
her from all that badness and transgression." Robin misses out on the usual
joys and sorrows of teenage girls, but the novel makes a strong case that
she's better off that way. Hudson's Rima the Bird Girl comes to a tragic
end, but Robin is clearly a better person for her experiences, and in the
final line of the novel she exhibits a wisdom far beyond her 18 years.
Early during her abduction, Robin begins creating paper dolls, names them
after residents of Stay More, and then begins inventing adventures for them
- adventures that can be found in Harington's other novels. (Three of them
have been reissued by his new publisher, and I hope more are on their way.)
With is as whimsical as a paper-doll show while being deeply rooted in the
earth; it gives the Garden of Eden myth a happy ending, and should find the
wide readership that Harington so richly deserves.
Steven Moore is the author of several books and essays on modern
literature.
(c) 2004, Washington Post Book World Service/
Washington Post Writers Group
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