Magill on Literature | Peace Like a River
Sep 13, 2006
Magill on Literature | Peace Like a River
At a glance:
Author: Leif Enger
First Published: 2001
Type of Work: Novel
Time of Work: 1962-1963
Setting: Minnesota and North Dakota
Principal Characters: Reuben Land, Davy Land, Swede Land, Jeremiah Land,
Israel Finch, Martin Andreeson, Roxanna Cawley, Jape Waltzer
Genres: Long fiction, Bildungsroman
Subjects: 1960’s, Family or family life, North America or North Americans,
United States or Americans, Parents and children, Murder or homicide,
Twentieth century, Midwest, Brothers and sisters, Fathers, Revenge, Tornadoes,
Miracles, Outlaws, Quest, Minnesota, North Dakota
Locales: North Dakota, Minnesota
Peace Like a River is a strange but pleasing coming-of-age book, containing
echoes of the picaresque novel and the archetypal quest, with passing references
to Homer, the Bible, and historical figures of the American West. Leif Enger
immediately establishes a winning voice for his eleven-year-old narrator, Reuben
Land, which alternates with the adult Reuben’s omniscient but equally relaxed
voice. He is a perceptive character, although admittedly self-critical, “beyond
my depth and knowing it, yet unable to shut up.”
To begin with, Reuben was born “a little clay boy” with ominously swampy lungs,
unable to draw breath until his father, Jeremiah, rushed into the hospital room
and commanded him to breathe. Even though the infant was without oxygen for
twelve minutes, he miraculously suffered no brain damage; but his lungs remain
weak into adolescence. Ironically, while Reuben has watched his father walk on
air and heal a man’s raw face with a single touch, his own asthma remains
uncured. Jeremiah can only steam him with salt and baking soda or thump his back
to loosen the congestion.
Reuben fully believes he has survived such an inauspicious beginning in order to
bear witness to his father’s unexplainable miracles, since “no miracle happens
without a witness.” He does not use the word “miracle” lightly, for real
miracles bother people. He is never certain whether his father prays for
miracles or whether they just happen.
Before the boy’s birth, Jeremiah was studying medicine on the G.I. Bill until he
was snatched up by a tornado and deposited unharmed four miles away. This event
changed his life. “Baptized by that tornado into a life of new ambitions,” he
dropped his medical studies in favor of an intense spirituality. His wife,
disappointed by his lack of initiative, later abandoned him and their three
children. Now he works as a school janitor in the small town of Roofing,
Minnesota, and is plagued by frequent, stunning headaches. A mild man of
conscience, he reads his Bible daily, silently, and without ostentation. A man
of prayer and intense conversation with God, he at one point literally wrestles
with the Almighty.
Davy, Jeremiah’s older son, is in some respects already an adult at sixteen, but
unfortunately he possesses an impatient nature. Unlike his father, he prefers to
act rather than wait. An accomplished hunter and trapper, he affectionately
labels his adoring brother “Natty Bumppo” (after James Fenimore Cooper’s famous
marksman), following Reuben’s first successful hunt; and he is very protective
of their little sister, known only as Swede. Swede is precocious and endearing,
an enthusiastic but unorthodox cook who sometimes decorates her sugar cookies
with frozen peas. She is a widely read and literate child but blunt with the
artlessness of childhood. She asks good questions that do not have easy answers.
A passionate fan of Western novels, Swede is in love with the legendary Old
West. Astride an old saddle Davy has given her for her ninth birthday, she types
spirited poetry with overtones of Robert Service. The dashing Sunny Sundown,
hero of her poems, is an upright lawman turned reluctant outlaw. Her real-life
hero is the young Teddy Roosevelt, who ranched in North Dakota before becoming
president. Reuben, too, admires and envies Roosevelt for his triumph over
asthma.
During a school football game two local troublemakers, Israel Pinch and Tommy
Basca, corner Davy’s girlfriend in the girls’ locker room and attempt to molest
her. At his janitorial duties. Jeremiah overhears the struggle and chases them
off. The girl later reports that his face was mysteriously “luminous” in the
darkened room as he whacked the two boys with his broom handle. After the boys
threaten his family, the feud escalates. The Lands find their front door covered
with tar, which Jeremiah quickly cleans, hoping the matter will end there, but
it does not.
While Jeremiah and Reuben attend an evening service at the Methodist church,
Swede is abducted and terrorized by Israel and Tommy. Enraged, Davy wants to go
after them, demanding, “How many times does a dog have to bite before you put
him down?” Instead, his father quietly summons the town policeman, who does
nothing. Two nights later, Davy smashes out the windows of Israel’s car, a
deliberate provocation, and when Israel and Tommy break into his home with a
baseball bat, Davy shoots them both. Although he is arrested and jailed for
murder, he refuses to plead self-defense, insisting that he intended to shoot.
Reacting to the scandal, the school superintendent decides to “scour that
janitor’s teeth” by first humiliating Jeremiah and then publicly firing him in
in front of a lunchroom full of children. At Davy’s trial, a reluctant Reuben
testifies as an eyewitness to the shootings until, carried away by
self-importance, he unintentionally strengthens the case against his brother.
There is little hope that the jury will release Davy, who promptly breaks out of
jail, escaping with a horse and a revolver. No one knows where he has gone.
The family’s hard times grow harder. Jobless and depressed, Jeremiah becomes
seriously ill with pneumonia. His children pound his back to relieve his clogged
lungs as their doctor prescribes antibiotics and bed rest. Reuben finds a
temporary job tearing down a corncrib, for which he is paid twenty-five dollars,
and he is then able to buy food for the household.
Just before Christmas, the family is visited by Martin Andreeson, a federal
investigator. Apparently, Davy has crossed the state line. Swede and Reuben are
hostile, dubbing Andreeson the “putrid fed,” but their father answers all
questions regarding Davy with absolute honesty. On Christmas Eve they receive a
mixed blessing—word that an acquaintance, a hard-luck traveling salesman, has
died, bequeathing his brand new Airstream trailer to Jeremiah. After a friend in
North Dakota reports that Davy has been seen, the Lands determine to find him.
As they set out on a modern odyssey, towing the shiny Airstream trailer with
their old station wagon, the novel expands its mythic dimensions. Andreeson
follows them across the Great Plains in bitter winter weather to a small city
park, where a severe headache forces Jeremiah to camp overnight. When the
federal agent knocks on their trailer door at dinnertime, Swede steals out to
pour maple syrup in his gas tank so he will not follow them again.
They pass through central North Dakota, evading state troopers who strangely
enough never see or stop them. They find themselves driving across the frozen
prairie on an empty tank, waiting to run out of gas and propane heat for the
trailer. Well into the Badlands, a notorious area of bleak buttes and mesas in
the western part of the state, they come to a farmhouse with two gasoline pumps
in front and a propane tank. The self-reliant owner, Roxanna Cawley, greets them
with a newborn goat in her arms. Earth mother and impressive cook, she soon
offers them a place to stay the night.
Reuben, who has always feared dying in his sleep if he cannot breathe, is
frequently troubled by bizarre dreams. That night he dreams of a ghastly little
man who ties up his strangled breath in a skin bag. When his father wakes him,
Roxanna is pounding his back to keep him from choking. Overnight, snow
transforms the landscape, and the blizzard prolongs their stay until snowplows
can free them. Soon Reuben is referring to Roxanna as “a lady you would walk on
tacks for.” Swede is greatly impressed by her knowledge of multisyllable words
and, best of all, by her colorful stories about her great-uncle, a physician and
gunsmith who was a friend of the outlaw Butch Cassidy. Jeremiah and Roxanna are
falling in love with each other.
Roxanna treats them to a wondrous January picnic in the Badlands, where years
ago lightning struck a vein of lignite that is still burning. In this “garden of
fire” where “the ground itself seemed coming unstitched,” Andreeson again
appears to report that Davy is definitely in the area. He begs Jeremiah to
search with him before the boy is hurt or killed. The next morning Reuben sights
his brother on horseback, watching him, and after dark Davy takes him to his
hideout to meet a fellow fugitive, Jape Waltzer.
When Reuben sees the formidable Waltzer, he subconsciously links the man’s “eyes
from a dead photograph” with the evil little man who carried the skin bag filled
with his breath. The boy is terrified. Nevertheless, he continues to ride out
secretly with Davy at night in the hope that his brother will return to them. He
anguishes over Davy, whose attitude toward the killings is pragmatic: “Say I did
regret it; what good does it do? I have to go on from here.”
Meanwhile, Jeremiah has begun to court Roxanna, even moving out to the Airstream
at night to preserve her reputation. Both good people who deserve happiness,
they are transfigured by this gentle courtship. At the same time, Reuben is
disturbed by his father’s newly cordial relationship with Andreeson, who no
longer appears to be an enemy. When the agent suddenly halts all communication,
Reuben, fearing for his brother’s safety and then for Andreeson’s, must decide
whether to reveal Davy’s whereabouts to their father.
Enger presents a moral dilemma with respect to the character of Davy. The reader
is reluctant to view Davy as a hardened outlaw even when his crime, a double
murder, is described in detail. Placed in the same ambivalent position as his
family, one longs to support him even though he never expresses remorse for what
he has done. It is as if the world cannot render a clear-cut judgment of Davy,
and perhaps that is the point.
One might be tempted to allegorize this novel, for it could easily slide into
abstraction: Jeremiah as the good Christian, a saint, even (as one critic
suggests) as God; Davy as the archetypal rebel, beloved even as he sins; the
fugitive Jape Waltzer, who is always accompanied by the odor of sulfur, as the
Devil. To limit the book in this way would be doing it a disservice, for its
very human characters are beautifully drawn. At its center it revolves around
the overwhelming power of love—divine, human, and brotherly love, perfect and
imperfect—the love that binds this small family together.
Enger’s vivid imagery is an attractive feature of Peace Like a River. The clink
of coffee cups and an overheard conversation may be reassuring noise or “the
sounds of hope landing facedown.” The book also provides some of literature’ s
most accurate and claustrophobic descriptions of severe asthma. As Reuben
explains, “Sometimes when the breathing goes it goes like that—like smoke
filling a closet. . . . Your breaths are sips, couldn’t blow out the candle on a
baby’s cake.” In lyrical passages, Enger evokes autumn and winter on the Great
Plains (“skies so cold frost paisleyed the gunbarrels”). Here the land itself is
always a presence, a sharp reminder of a power far beyond human
limitations—immense sky, sweeping prairie, the cold, clean Dakota wind—even the
boundless desolation of the fabled Badlands, where the ground is eternally on
fire.
Sources for Further Study
Booklist 97 (May 15, 2001): 1707.
Library Journal 126 (June 15, 2001): 102.
The New York Times Book Review 106 (September 9, 2001): 19.
Publishers Weekly 248 (July 16, 2001): 166.
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