Plainsong

I saw the tv film of PLAINSONG more than a dozen years ago, but somehow I managed to miss this exquisite little novel, first published in 1999. A couple years ago, I read Kent Haruf's last novel, OUR SOULS AT NIGHT, and it was equally moving, maybe even more than this one, because it's about old people and I'm an old person, and also because I knew it was Haruf's last book, published posthumously. Now I want very much to read the two sequels to PLAINSONG, which is obviously a book much loved, by tens of thousands of readers. No surprise. Haruf writes in a simple style that reaches right to the heart of things, a man who understands that men and women are complicated, but maybe not so terribly complicated. I especially loved the way show more Haruf contrasted the two sets of motherless brothers - the little Guthrie boys, Ike and Bobby; and the gruff, lonely old bachelor farmers, Harold & Raymond McPheron. This juxtaposition is one of the elements that makes this book so special. An especially moving example of this was when the two little boys asked their dad why the McPherons had never married, why they didn't have families. And the answer is provided by one of the small boys himself - that maybe they didn't want to leave each other, or words to that effect. PLAINSONG gives us tastes of both the good and bad sides of human natured, but at its core is a sweetness that stays with you long after you have closed the book.There is plenty more I could probably say about this book, but thousands of readers have already said their piece, so I probably couldn't add much new. I loved this book. My highest recommendation.

- Tim Bazzett, author of the memoir, BOOKLOVER show less

This turned out to be an unexpected gem. The blurb and the opening lines were so unpromising but it turns out to be a story that stays with you. Two parallel stories - a teenage girl thrown out by her mother for pregnancy and taken in by two old men, and two boys struggling with their mother's illness. The girl and the two men learn to love one another, whereas the two boys meet kindness in old Mrs. Stearns, who sensed their forlornness. There was hilarity as the men struggled to communicate with the girl, caring for her in their gung-ho way. The boys and the girl met at the end of the story, with the girl trusting them with her baby. A heartwarming story, where Haruf's deliberate descriptions work well. He describes almost every action show more but you don't find that it slows down the story. show less

A hymn to the quotidian. There is just enough of the unusual – the autopsy of a horse, a pelvic exam – to keep one surprised. I wept, but it is not a sad book. It’s about how we make families – mother/child, father/child, brothers, and how it falls apart and we are alone and regroup. Where do we feel safe? In all of these relationships, it is the women who do the weaving of the families, and the men who provide the – energy. There’s a mutuality, fragile and tough, which is utterly lovely when it works – and frightening when it doesn’t.

There is a quality that the great writers have in that they can present to us a scene of almost banal normality and, through the stark use of language and the unspoken way in which the scene is contextualised, deliver something to us that feels timeless in its humanity. Author Kent Haruf's achievement in Plainsong is that he has isolated this quality, this effect, and replicated it.

I began to think of Plainsong almost as a sample on a slide in a literary lab, for the novel presents one scene after another which seem to exist only to evoke that feeling. The book seems to have no other ambition than this; it has no grand over-arching theme or plot (though character arcs do end up dovetailing in a pleasing way) and the title only confirms show more this (the opening of the book tells us that 'plainsong' is simple and unadorned melody used in the Christian church).

Sometimes this can be frustrating; the book is slow at first and demands patience, and the fact that the effect is replicated again and again means that readers can begin to deduce formula, or at least patterns in how the writing is constructed (ending each section with a simple line about how the weather rolls over the plains seems to be a common one). And yet, the book wins you over; the characters grow on you and the pages begin to turn much more easily. I much prefer scenes like this when they are couched within the greater artistic vision of a Hemingway or a Steinbeck, a Betty Smith or a Cormac McCarthy (for that, indeed, is where you would find scenes of this manner and quality). But seeing them in isolation is not only instructive, but also surprisingly enjoyable. Plainsong endears itself to us with its quiet composure, modest ambition and its old-fashioned American goodness. show less

One of my favourite literary quotes is 'Atticus told me to delete the adjectives and I'd have the facts' from To Kill A Mockingbird; Kent Haruf seemingly took that line to extremes, trimming speech marks and introspection alike from his writing. When reading comparisons with Hemingway and Faulkner in the introduction, two of my least favourite authors, I took fright but I'm glad I persevered. Yes, the prose is stripped bare and no, not many of the characters are very sympathetic, but the pace of the narrative and the timeless setting really grew on me.

In Holt, Colorado, a small town surrounded by cattle ranches and farms, high school student Victoria realises she is pregnant and her mother throws her out. She turns to one of her show more teachers, Maggie Jones, who lives with her elderly father. Another teacher, Tom Guthrie, is raising his two young sons after his troubled wife moves out and eventually leaves town. Both Maggie and Tom find help with their problems from two old farmers, the McPherons, on their ranch miles out of town: the brothers become the unlikely guardians of Victoria and the young Guthrie boys seek solace from the harsh realities of life with the crotchety old cattle men.

And that's the book - the connecting lives of a mother to be, two sets of brothers and two teachers in a rather bleak setting. I didn't like Tom Guthrie at all - or the disturbing shades of Stoner - and his sons were a bit creepy too, but all of the characters are painfully human and relatable in different ways. The McPheron brothers and their awkward affection for Victoria made my heart ache and I appreciated Maggie's common sense until she fell for Stoner, sorry Guthrie. I know Holt is a small town but come on!

Holt is the kind of fictional town I would love to visit for the scenery but would hate to live in, and Haruf perfectly captures the claustrophobia of a small community in hard times. I'm still not sure exactly when that time is supposed to be, however - probably the 1980s, but Stephen King and his kink for the good old 50s would probably feel at home in Holt! There are two more books in the series, which I think I will read, but only after a vacation in a livelier, friendlier story or two! show less

I loved this book’s humanity, its characters, and the author’s craft.

This is a story about kindness and decency triumphing over selfishness and cruelty. This is not a story about characters placed in exceptional situations like in wars or battles but about ordinary people with real-life difficulties exhibiting attributes or defects of character with which readers readily identify.

Plainsong takes place in a small-town rural Colorado community probably in the 1960s. Tom Guthrie is an American history teacher with eight and nine-year-old sons to raise. He and his mentally ill wife are estranged. Victoria Roubideaux is a pregnant seventeen-year-old high school student whose mother has banished her from their house. Harold and Raymond show more McPheron are two aged bachelor cow farmers who are asked by Maggie Jones, a sympathetic teacher at the high school, to take Victoria in. Russell Beckman is a selfish, nasty, indolent student in one of Guthrie’s classes. He and his vicious parents cause Guthrie considerable grief. Complicating Victoria’s life is the young man who has gotten her pregnant. Over the course of nine months the lives of these characters change, for better or worse, realistically, inexorably.

Kent Haruf writes beautifully. He places his characters in particular situations and, using third-person narration, tells their stories revealing only their conversations and their actions. He rarely interjects their thoughts. We, the readers, are left to hear and witness and judge these characters as we do actual people. Part of the appeal of this book is the not-immediately-knowing and, consequently, the craving to know why specific characters are in the situations we find them in so that we can project what they might do to rectify them.

I especially enjoyed the author’s terse dialogue and frequent use of sensory detail. You will read no empty dialogue here. What each character says is to the point and fits. Haruf has an excellent eye for sensory detail. He makes use of it without being ostentatious. What he uses goes beyond what we writers more often than not just make up. Here is an example:

“Guthrie ordered a beer and Monroe drew it and set it down in front of him. He wiped at a spot on the polished wood but it was something in the grain of the wood itself.”

The setting of the novel is as authentic as the characters and their conflicts. The school has the feel that I knew as a public school teacher. The activities of the McPheron brothers working their cow farm were detailed and instructive.

If you are looking for affirmation that goodness can overcome the meanness of life, if you care about people, you will enjoy this book. show less

I first heard of this novel on LT way back when, and I'm not sure why I waited so long to read it. I knew I would love it - in fact, I collected hardcovers of all three books in the trilogy because I knew it would be just my thing. And the first volume did not disappoint. It follows several denizens of Holt, a small town on the eastern plains of Colorado. Nothing hugely momentous happens, but the various perspectives give us a complete picture of life and struggle in a small town. Haruf treats his characters with such respect, imbuing them with dignity and worth, that one understands the inherent value of the Everyman, not the larger-than-life Doer of Great Deeds, but the average person trying to achieve nothing more than a good life. show more There is conflict and death and ugliness, but what stands out more are the tenderness and quiet moments that constitute the best parts of life.

A lovely, gentle novel with unforgettable characters. show less