'Papa Married a Mormon' a 'Mormon-loves-gentile' story

Few people really understand the fear felt by Mormons in the genesis of the faith's flight to Utah to avoid what members perceived as severe persecution in Missouri and Illinois. In the latter half of the 19th century non-Mormons, or "gentiles" were regarded as intruders in "Zion" bent on either crushing the saints or forcibly removing them from their third homeland. In “The Kingdom or Nothing,” Samuel Taylor's biography of Mormon prophet John Taylor, when settlers heard rumors of a planned U.S. military "invasion" upon the Utah territory, church settlers abandoned the new Salt Lake City and trudged south to Provo, leaving instructions to a few left behind to burn everything if the soldiers assumed command of the city.

These sentiments are nearly gone, although stronger generations ago, when Utahn John D. Fitzgerald wrote the popular novel “Papa Married a Mormon.”

Times have changed, and “Papa Married a Mormon” has been adapted to the stage many times in Utah. The novel, first published in 1955 by Prentice Hall, is easy to find at used bookstores. Two sequels followed: “Mama's Boarding House,” and “Uncle Will and the Fitzgerald Curse.”

Set in the 1880s and ’90s in the fictional southern Utah towns of Adenville and Silverlode, the most unique aspect of Fitzgerald’s novel is that only a small portion of it is true, and that’s with a healthy dose of journalistic license, no doubt. Fitzgerald is writing about his family: His Uncle Will, who leaves Pennsylvania in disgrace to seek a life as a gambler/​gunslinger; His father Tom, Sr., who obeys a deathbed wish to find Will and tracks him down, finding him a rich saloon and gambling hall owner in Silverlode, a mining town close to the Mormon settlement of Adenville, which is headed by the town’s bishop, Ephraim Aden.

Once reconciled with Will, Tom takes over the Silverlode newspaper, and gains the trust of Adenville Mormons whose subscriptions, printing and advertising provide him a means of support. All this is threatened when he meets and falls instantly in love with Tena Neilsen, the 17-year-old daughter of Mormon emigrants from Europe. After a struggle with Tena and her family, Tom wins her heart, marries her in Denver and eventually the pair return to southern Utah with Tom (and Tena) considerably less popular among the saints than they had been previously.

While the novel’s chapters feature diverse tales (there's whole chapters devoted to saloon rowdies, kids’s pranks, family genealogy, gun fights, and dog fights) in essence the rest of Fitzgerald’s novel deals with the growth of Tom and Tena's s multi-religious family in Adenville and their slow but eventual acceptance by the Mormon majority. This subject provides the most powerful writing in the novel, as Fitzgerald portrays the suffering his mother feels, outwardly as a rejected saint, and inwardly as her Mormon conscience tears at her act of rebellion in marrying a gentile.

“Papa knew that Momma’s life was very lonely. The Latter-day Saints politely ignored her because she was an apostate. They would not let her trade in Adenville; even the farmers refused to sell her eggs and vegetables. ... Two weeks before the baby was born, Papa went through a night of torture. Mama had barely spoken to him all evening. About midnight he awoke and heard Mama crying ... He put his arm around her ... Momma threw him off, ‘Don’t touch me,’ she cried piteously.”

When Tom insists that Tena explain her behavior, she admits that she doesn’t feel married to him, since Mormons are married for time and all eternity. Tom goes to Bishop Aden and asks to be baptized a Mormon. The Bishop refuses to baptize Tom to placate his wife, but marries the pair outside a temple for time and all eternity. Although this would be frowned on today, it was not unusual in 18th century Utah to conduct “time and all eternity” marriages from outside a temple or endowment house. But it was certainly unusual if the groom was a Catholic.

Papa Married a Mormon is a fun read for anyone, but also a Utah history lesson. Fitzgerald writes each chapter like a separate story, so readers can jump in anywhere. One weakness is a tendency for the author to be a bit flowery in his prose, so at times romance almost becomes farce. Also, although Fitzgerald's heart is in the right place, he exhibits a condescending attitude toward Native Americans, a vice likely widespread in 1950s literature. One more thing: The novel comes with pictures of all the family members Fitzgerald writes about. It's fun to put a face to Tom, Tena and the Fitzgerald gang.

A postscript: I did some research and discovered that the Fitzgerald lived in Price, Utah, not Southern Utah. “Papa” did marry a Mormon, but he was a local financial professional, not a journalist, and also was an elected official. Author John D. Fitzgerald lived a fascinating life, with many unique jobs. He merits a biography.

-- Doug Gibson

-- Originally published at StandardNET.

Mormon Church's snub at 1893 fair was bitter setback

Originally published at StandardBlogs/Standard-Examiner

Eighteen ninety-three was heralded as the end of the frontier era as the world gathered in Chicago to celebrate civilization. 

For the Mormon Church, still mostly hidden from America, tucked into Utah, it represented for church leaders an opportunity to garner international respect in its quest for statehood. That dream would take a few more years, but in 1893, church leaders — and its ambassador, B.H. Roberts — would find its efforts to rub shoulders with the world’s religions firmly snubbed.

It would be a bitter defeat for Roberts, and also underscore the ironic closed-mindedness of a religious hierarchy that gathered in Chicago to allegedly celebrate tolerance.

Yet, while the LDS faith was shunted aside at the Chicago gathering, the secular attractions of Utah were more warmly received. The territory was greeted with interest and admiration, and provided a coveted spot at the Chicago fair.

The secret was avoiding the still-pesky religion and its association with polygamy. Historian Konden R. Smith writes of the Columbian Exposition of 1893 and its distinct treatments of the LDS Church and the Utah territory in the Journal of Mormon History article, “The Dawning of a New Era: Mormonism and the World’s Columbian Exposition of 1893.” It’s a reminder that the church’s interest in public relations is not a recent development — it goes well back into its founding century.

The Parliament of Religions at the Chicago fair, which Smith claims “received more media attention and applause than any of the other congresses,” was designed to gather faiths with “brotherly sympathies any who are groping, blindly, after God.” Nevertheless, the Mormons — who Smith says expected to be invited — “were deliberately excluded.”

The church's connection to polygamy were considered by parliament organizers as a “disturbing element,” and not fit for the congress.

Letters from the church's First Presidency were ignored by organizers, Not giving up. Church President Wilford Woodruff sent young general authority B.H. Roberts to Chicago to lobby for inclusion.

After six weeks or so of lobbying for the October religions parliament, “the increasingly annoyed Parliament's managers” asked Roberts to pen “a statement of its (the LDS Church's) faith and achievements.”

The invitation came with no guarantee that the statement would be delivered by Roberts in Chicago, or even read by anyone, but Roberts believed that the invitation guaranteed him a prominent spot at the Parliament.

What eventually occurred was an offering for Roberts to speak in an obscure hall in the Scientific Section” of the fair. Roberts, comprehending that he was being shunted away from a chance to proclaim his religion,” was very bitter, and remained so for decades. He rejected the offer, and later called it a rejection by the Parliament.

Indeed, in September, the Mormon Church was officially rejected by the Parliament. Even its previous offer of submitting Roberts' paper was rescinded after expo-goers reacted with outrage, hissing and boos to Mohammed Alexander Russell Webb's defense of polygamy while reading his paper, “The Spirit of Islam.” As Smith writes, “Webb said: ‘Polygamy is no curse. A man can be a good, honest gentleman and yet be a polygamist. But I do not accept him as such if he be a sensualist.' At this point, the crowd erupted in hisses and cries of ‘Shame!' and ‘No, no: stop him.'”

It was clear that the Mormon Church, while “officially” having “renounced” polygamy in 1893, was still too much like the FLDS Church is regarded today to be included among the world's religions.

However, Smith points out that while the 1893 Parliament of Religions claimed to be inclusive, it championed a traditional evangelical North America Christianity viewpoint. Even without the polygamy problem, the Mormon Church's claim of being the restored true Gospel of Jesus Christ, was not a popular message to the parliament.

The Chicago Herald newspaper, in comments that were later re-published in the Deseret News, did criticize the parliament for yanking Roberts at the last minute. The Mormon historian's remarks were later published in his book, “Defense of the Faith.” Smith notes that Robert's arguments included his claim that “Mormonism had the answer for many of the current problems plaguing Christianity, including the growing disaffection toward Christianity and the challenge of growing secularism.” As Smith adds, Roberts' theme — that the Mormons were the Kingdom of God — directly contradicted the professed purpose of the parliament.

Thus ended the LDS Church effort to influence the Chicago World's Fair. As mentioned, however, the Utah territory — three years from statehood — was better received.

(The Smith paper referred to here is from his doctoral dissertation. An earlier version was published in The Journal of Mormon History.)

A review of the edgy LDS-themed novel, ‘Rift.’

(Originally published at StandardBlogs in 2009)

"You’re a salvation army of one,” a young woman tells elderly Jens Thorsen in Southern Utah University professor Todd Robert Petersen’s new novel “Rift,” published by Provo’s Zarahemla Press.

That’s a pretty apt description of Thorsen, a retired man who goes around Sanpete, Utah, with his keen, experienced eye, spotting trouble and then trying in his understated manner to help. Jens, who looks like 10,000 other Utah elderly men used to a life around a farm, picks his charity cases with an eye toward what might annoy Bishop Darrell Bunker, with whom he is enjoying, with malicious humor on Jens’ part, a longstanding feud.

Jens also exasperates his longtime wife, Lily, but there’s a still-simmering passion behind their bickering and her occasional temper tantrums at his critiques of LDS customs and impatience with his younger priesthood leader. The fact that Jens and Lily have hung together 50 or so years is enough evidence there’s love buried deep in that relationship.

Watching out for others is one way Jens handles the assumed idleness of retirement. Among those he helps is a young man in prison most of the town would prefer to forget, a dying apostate with a bitter wife who hates Mormons, a barber losing a slow battle with Parkinson’s disease and a Jewish doctor with a land problem that requires heavy machinery owned by Bishop Bunker. Naturally, the bishop did not allow the use of his equipment. Naturally, Jens borrows it and then rubs his truculent behavior in Bishop Bunker’s nose.

Petersen is a very talented LDS-themed writer — that’s why he’s writing for Zarahemla and not the Deseret Book monopoly, which wouldn’t publish fiction that involves considerate, thoughtful, non-condescending responses to harsh critiques of a dominant religion’s culture.

What I like mostly about “Rift” is Petersen allows the reader to get inside the mind of the old man we see at the barber shop, or at the store, or sitting at Sizzler, or in a church pew. Jens is an old man physically, but his mind is as alert and rascally as it was 50 years years ago. Petersen’s scenes of old men sitting in a barber shop, watching TV, gossiping and sneaking glances at a young women are a pleasure to read.

The mostly harmless feud between Jens and his bishop becomes more serious after Angie Bunker, the bishop’s rebellious daughter, returns home to her family planning to have a baby. After she stops coming to church, Angie is tossed from her house and Jens — soon after a life-changing experience of his own — makes decisions that puts him in direct conflict not only with his bishop, but much of Sanpete.

Death, both current and past, and our reactions to it, underscore much of “Rift.” As the novel progresses, and Jens finds himself with more time on his hands than he anticipated, events drive him to recall a very painful event 50 years or so in his past. Author Petersen reminds the readers that while unpleasant memories can sleep a long time, they still exist and shape our actions and decisions.

“Rift” is a compelling read. Petersen, who has a reputation as a short story writer, crafts excellent, stories-within-a-larger-story chapters. The dialogue of his characters are insightful and at times witty.

I have two quibbles with the novel. I would have liked to have seen at least one character as fully developed as Jens. Bishop Bunker, for example, almost seems shadowy for lack of insight into his character. Even Lily, Jens wife, suffers for lack of character development.

Second, although Petersen’s writing is still superb through the climax and resolution, he chooses to avoid the expected path — a final battle royale involving Angie’s welfare between Jens and Bishop Bunker — and instead shifts a surprise detour on the reader. Without giving away too much, I’ll just say I didn’t find it realistic. I just can’t see that kind of sex-on-sex anger bubbling to the surface so publicly within a Relief Society.

Nevertheless, I hope “Rift” finds a lot of readers. It’s an under-your-skin read that provides insights that impact us longer than the dust on a book long tucked away in a bookcase.

-- Doug Gibson