Reading California Fiction

EARTH ABIDES

    Earth Abides is a classic of speculative fiction and is often compared favorably to later and more simple-minded post-apocalyptic novels. But it should also be put in the context of Stewart’s other books, especially Storm (1941) and Fire (1948), both of which portray the conflict between human activity and natural forces. If there is such a thing as an environmental novelist, Stewart certainly fills the bill. Earth Abides, incidentally, was adapted for radio in 1950 and can be heard here (part one) and here (part two).

    Earth Abides by George R. Stewart. Random House (1949), 373 pp.
    Ish Williams interrupts his ecological research in the Northern California foothills to seek treatment for a nasty snakebite. As he heads back to civilization, he finds only a corpse on the road and no one in the nearest town. He learns from a recent newspaper that an epidemic of an unknown disease has killed much of mankind. When Ish gets back to Berkeley, he discovers that only a few people are still alive and they are not coping well with the crisis. Yet he’s not completely discouraged, believing that his curiosity, adaptability, and solitary nature will allow him live on “with some degree of happiness.”
    This remarkable novel does nothing less than examine man’s relationship to his environment and his culture. The viewpoint of the first part of the book is ecological. Stewart shows what happens to Ish’s surroundings when natural forces are unconstrained. After Ish founds a colony of survivors, Stewart turns the narrative in a more anthropological direction. He explores the impact that remnants of pre-epidemic civilization have on the newly emerging society. Stewart handles these monumental themes with erudition and dispassion. Sometimes, in fact, he’s overly concerned with getting his points across. The narrative slows to a crawl each time Ish explains to himself (and the reader) the meaning of one event or another. If Stewart had had more confidence in his audience, he could have lopped a hundred pages from the book. Even so, many readers will find the novel fascinating and thought-provoking.

YOU PLAY THE BLACK AND THE RED COMES UP

    This peculiar book has received an unusual amount of attention. On his blog Woody Haut furnishes an excellent summary of the criticism, the plot (including spoilers) and the author’s life. To which I have little to add except a question about categorization (by Edmund Wilson and Kevin Starr among others) of the book as “hard-boiled.” Dick, the protagonist, is anything but tough. Lacking an ability to take effective action, he mostly just seems perplexed and vulnerable. The author, incidentally, used his real name (Eric Knight) for his other novels, including Lassie Come Home.

    You Play the Black and the Red Comes Up by Richard Hallas. McBride and Co. (1938), 213 pp.
    When Dick discovers that his wife has left home with their son, he hops a freight to Los Angeles, their likely destination. After a miserable trip, he arrives in L. A. and learns his wife is in San Diego. A movie director, Quentin Genter, gives him a lift south then, after Dick makes a ruckus, betrays him to the police. Back in L. A., Dick is recruited into a fake hold-up that goes badly amiss. Toting a bag of cash, he runs into a bar. There he meets a drunken blonde, Mamie Block, and winds up driving her back to her apartment. His offbeat adventures have only begun in that zaniest of all zany places, Southern California.
    This is an odd book with several implausible story lines. Dick meets a beautiful and wealthy young woman who is attracted to him for no obvious reason. Mamie’s roommate begins a politico-religious movement -- think the Townsend Plan meets the Foursquare Gospel -- which sweeps Southern California. The mysterious Genter shows up with improbable frequency. In addition, Dick is a strange first-person narrator. He's shallow and puzzled most of the time but occasionally lapses into sharp insight. And to his simple, short-sentence style he often adds a Gertrude Stein-like repetition of sentences. The book is original if nothing else. It offers an entertaining read but perhaps not the sort that should be taken very seriously.

THEY DREAM OF HOME

    Published toward the end of the Second World War, They Dream of Home is one of the first novels to take on postwar issues. On the dust jacket of the movie tie-in edition (left), James M. Cain praised the author “not only for his racy, pungent, vivid literary gift, but for the shrewd observation and consistent understanding he brings to bear on the great social theme he has chosen.” Viewers of Ken Burns’ The War might find the book especially interesting. (The film adaptation, incidentally, was a turkey.)

    They Dream of Home by Niven Busch. D. Appleton-Century Co. (1944), 307 pp.
    In 1943 four G.I.s return from fighting in the South Pacific to resume civilian life in Los Angeles. Leading the group is Gunny Watrous, a grizzled Marine sergeant now too old for combat. The others have been disabled in some manner: Perry Kinchelow, a black paraplegic once known for his strength; Matt Klein, a grocery-store owner with a crumpled knee and a bogus wife; and Cliff Harper, a nineteen-year-old still suffering psychologically from a serious wound. The fifth member of their band, William Tabeshaw, a Zuni Indian scout, remains overseas. The returnees pledge to keep the group together as they try to find places for themselves in a country at war but not in combat.
    This book is more than a character study. It’s a prediction of what will come when 1943’s trickle of returning veterans turns into a flood at the end of the war. Some of the men will be have serious troubles -- physical disablity, psychological disorder (PTSD in today's terminology), problems at work and in personal relationships. More than that, society itself will need to change. The veterans won’t be satisfied with the status quo ante. They’ll want a bigger cut of the American pie. African Americans, in particular, will demand recognition, a point  Busch deserves special credit for making. Readers might wish the characters had greater complexity and the writing more pizzazz. Even so, the book provides an insightful depiction of American ambience and attitudes during World War II.