The Brother's K is a story of brothers, of baseball, of bonds; it's a story of religion, of regrets, of relationships. The brothers are the Chance brothers, sons of Hugh Chance, a man whose once promising baseball career has been cut short by an accident at the mill, and Laura Chance, a woman whose religious devotion teeters on the brink towards fanaticism. Baseball and religion shape the flow of the story and the development of the Chance children (four boys and two twin girls).

Kincaid Chance, the youngest brother, narrates much of the novel over a span of time beginning in 1956 and going through the upheavals of the Vietnam War era. Through Kincaid, readers come to know a great deal about the lives of each member of the Chance family, particularly of each one of his brothers as they grow from boys into men.

While baseball and religion (and politics for that matter) factor heavily into the content of this book, The Brothers K is ultimately a story about a family, a flawed family to be sure, but a family where love is present too. The Brothers K is a lengthy book, but for those who like character-driven historical fiction (remember The Brothers Karamazov anyone?), it's worth considering investing the time to read. ( )

Long, lumbering tale of the shaky existence of a family constantly in transition with members whom all have different perspectives, beliefs and passions about life. Very uneven, slow read for me, but ultimately, satisfying. ( )

Four brothers, twin sisters, a father with minor league baseball in his blood, and a Bible thumping mother form the story skeleton of The Brothers K. David James Duncan packs a lot of meat on these bones in his very long, very elaborate, quasi-biographical novel of the Chance family of Camas, Washington.

The first half of the book centers on the baseball career of Hugh “Smoke” Chance, latter known as “Papa Toe” for reasons almost too outlandish to believe. Hugh’s life as a triple-A lefty pitcher stumbles along through interruptions great and small, as his family steadily adds children and his wife rides herd. This part of the book is an engaging account of growing up in small town America in the 1950s and early ‘60s. It has the same steady, powerful flow of the Columbia flowing past Camas.

Then, BAM! The second half of the book takes off. The contentious, argumentative oldest brother, Everett, becomes a campus radical and draft dodger. The scholarly and mystical Peter head off to India where he has a life-changing escapade. Lovable Irwin suffers a tragedy in Vietnam that becomes the focus of the book. One of the twins seems headed for a mental breakdown. Girlfriends and wives come and go. Conflicts between the mom and other family members escalate, but are then explained away in a final revelation so horrifying it almost derails the story. Kincade, the sturdiest brother, narrates the tale, but it is a roller coaster of an adventure.

The disparate pacing of the two halves of the book is its main weakness. It feels like two books. And even though many of the moving parts in the second half relate back to information provided in the first half, the second half is so chock-o-block full of action and ideas and characters that those little connections get lost in the flurry or lose their significance. Duncan may have been trying to demonstrate that the Vietnam war had just that kind of explosive effect on American families, but he could have done the same thing more effectively with about 200 fewer pages.

Duncan’s writing style has matured since his popular first novel, The River Why, but is still evocative, playful, witty, and erudite. The trouble is that there is just too much style involved. For example, he uses puns, limericks, and other word play (the title is a baseball reference – “K” meaning to strike out – as well as a nod to Dostoevsky); he incorporates fictional “primary source” materials such as letters, newspaper articles, and the children’s school essays; and he sets the story aside while characters – all remarkably eloquent and demonstrating eye popping levels of self-awareness – go off on state-of-the-universe soliloquies. A little of such tricks goes a long way. By the end of 650 or so pages, enough is enough.

Despite these flaws, The Brothers K is a beautiful story of family love; well told and worth the read. It just could have been shorter.

Also posted on Rose City Reader.l ( )

Throughout the three weeks I spent with David James Duncan's Chase family, I found myself emailing quotes from The Brothers K and recommending this book to friends and business colleagues alike. Though written in 1992, it feels so like today in its approach to religious fanaticism, war, and politics. It's time for this book to enjoy a much deserved revival. By turns hilarious and heart-wrenching, often philosphical and meandering to distraction, one finds at conclusion that it was all there for a reason. The paths that wind through baseball, religion, politics, and family relationships all converge into a most satisying whole. Truly one of the most thoroughly enjoyable reads of my life. ( )

The pace was slower than what I needed right now. The major themes were religion, baseball and the blending of the two. Love, forgiveness and justification for bizarre behavior were also present and never cease to confound me. Overt selfishness gets old fast, but what about the argument that we are all essentially selfish and the act of being selfless makes us feel good so is, therefore, selfish. That argument leaves me with no response but a dull sadness. No enlightenment there. No possibility for change.

This story was about a family of 8 living in the Pacific NW - not far from where I live. Comfort and security for the mother is found in her Adventist faith. Comfort and security for the father is found in baseball - specifically pitching. This is where the book gets it's title - K is the symbol for "strike out swinging". Optimism in failure - hmmm? Each of the 4 boys had a theme that slowly worked itself out in a beautifully written way.

For Kincade, the story had to do with his mother and their relationship. When you don't understand what drives a certain kind of devotion, it can install a wedge between people and keep them separate - infuriatingly visible, but not reachable. There is a place where Kincade describes a kind of giving up feeling that I really identified with. "I felt at times that she loved me. I also felt, almost constantly, that she disliked me. And I was satisfied to reciprocate. It damaged us. But that's the way it was."

The family struggled to stay close - to find the common ground that they could share together. The person who was best at this was Irwin. He could pass easily, without harming anyone, between the areas of faith and sports. He had a great love of life and everything in it. His ability to love was huge and infectious and very likable. This created a kind of doom around him because anyone who is witnessing a story understands that bad things happen to the kind, happy, innocent guy. Vietnam happened to Irwin and it was pretty bad. The family rallied around him in a rescue mission that was heartening.

Everett, the oldest boy, waged a battle for individual authenticity. He developed a hunger and need for a crowd of people who would feed his image as a wise, witty truth teller. It was mostly bullshit - the stuff of bumper stickers. I see these people in very liberal Portland, OR and having already been acquainted with this smug crowd pleaser, I was happy to see him come to his senses and finally become his real self.

Peter was the second to the oldest and just as obsessed with spirituality as his mother, but not the Adventist kind. This was a deal breaker for them that was almost permanent. As soon as he was able, he left home for school working his brain as hard as he could, seeking enlightenment. His struggle was hard to define, but it was finally put this way, "Some long-lived insidious problems simply slip us off to one side of ourselves. Some gently rob us of just enough energy or faith so that days which once took place on a horizontal plane become an endless series of uphill slogs." I get that. Hard.

I enjoyed this book - I will probably reflect back on images of hope, love, maturation and that terrible sense of unhinged freedom that settles after a screaming family freakout. ( )