Review: American Trinity: And Other Stories from the Mormon Corridor

 

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Review by Doug Gibson

I really enjoy reading fiction by David G. Pace. He often captures the conflict between traditional Mormonism, its cultural comfort level, and inevitable questioning and repudiation of mores necessary in a changing world. In Pace's work, this conflict, if continued, can irreparably damage a marriage, cause a general authority to want to rebel, or lead one of the Three Nephites to be fed up with Christ for giving him a never-ending gospel calling.

That leads to the signature story, "American Trinity," in this new anthology, published by BCC Press. Zed is one of the Three Nephites, and the endless stretch of time, the constant changing of environments and culture, have him burnt out, to put it mildly. He only has occasional contact with the other two Nephites, and spends a lot of time at the theater. One of the Three Nephites, Jonas, has become of the world, enjoying multiple marriages and children that he outlives. The other, Kumen, goes the other way, living nomadic and looking for little, mundane miracles he can give to Saints. They are the kind of miracles tailor made for a Fast Sunday sacrament meeting.

I was enjoying the story, Zed's history and his anguish, and expected it to just end, with Zed facing another day. And then wordsmith Pace ups the ante and provides a powerful climax that near brought me to tears. Our protagonist comes across the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire, in Greenwich Village, on May 25 1911. Zed comes to a 12-year-old girl, who jumped out to escape flames. She's dying. He can't help her. But somehow this brave soul accepts her death, and -- at least for a little while -- saves Zed. "'Don't be afraid,' she told him."

There are 12 stories in the anthology. Some I particularly enjoyed were "City of the Saints," a Babbit-esque tale of a recently called lesser LDS general authority trying to assert himself and resist conformity. Another, "Sagarmatha," involves a disaffected Latter-day Saint man escaping his crumbling marriage by traveling to Nepal on a mountain-climbing trek. While on it, he devotes considerable energy to protecting a sick dog.

"Caliban Revels Now Ended" is a well-crafted story of a missionary, with his companion, who read The Book of Mormon to a stroke victim, Ian, who cannot talk to them. "There was something about reading the verses aloud--the way they filled the old house with an authoritative cadence--that conjured for Ethan an assurance he hadn't felt before: that the book was a good one; that it was speaking to him," Pace writes. The story concludes 20 years later, with Ethan no longer an orthodox Mormon, no longer a believer in the Book of Mormon as fact. Yet Pace writes, "Still, as Ethan drove away that summer night, he hoped that someone had read one of the final passages of the Mormon's book to Ian before he passed on--a passage that, to Ethan seemed to transcend both orthodoxy and disbelief."

I see through the stories a respect for the Book of Mormon, not as a factual tome, but as a book, created by a man with talents, that can change the lives of individuals. In "American Trinity," Zed reiterates his deep affection for the Book of Mormon as a history that survived, although he is disappointed at Mormon's excessive abridgment.

A couple of others stories I particularly recommend are "Stairway to Heaven," for its take on how surprising too-soon death can be interpreted within LDS culture, and "The Mormon Moment," a lighthearted yet insightful tale -- told in quotes -- of an older LDS man trying to convince "Dot" to vote for Mitt Romney over Barack Obama. It reminded me of the culture of 2012, only 12 years ago but it seems like a long time. Frankly, I'd like to see Pace capture this subject with Donald Trump in 2024.

Buy this anthology, and also pick up Pace's novel, Dream House on Golan Drive. It's an excellent read of a Utah Mormon family in the 1970s, and the novel's narrator is "Zed" of the Three Nephites. I've no doubt Zed's still around today, hoping against hope for Christ's Second Coming, and an end to his calling.

Novel Dream House on Golan Drive, Mormon Thunder Jedediah Grant

A Mormon-themed novel, “Dream House On Golan Drive” (Signature Books), by David G. Pace, a writer of considerable talent and regional note. “Dream House” is not likely to move beyond its genre but it’s extremely well written and thought-provoking.

It involves the lives within a Mormon quasi-celebrity family, the Hartleys, living in Provo in the late 1970s through the 1990s. The dad, Nelson, is the sort, not uncommon in the faith, who is a third spiritual giant, a third motivational speaker, and a third pitchman. Mom Joan is a former Miss Utah. There’s a whole passel of kids, and the story revolves around eldest son, Riley, taking us from childhood and well into his adulthood.

In an interesting quirk, Pace allows one of the Three Nephites, “Zed,” to be a narrator. The old Nephite, who seems to play a sort of guardian angel to Riley as well, also consorts with contemporaries, including The Wandering Jew. Through Riley, most of the traditional rites of passages of growing up Mormon are observed, an we get a peek of the many dysfunctions that accompany a “perfect Mormon family” headed by a ’spiritual celebrity.’”

Pace possesses talent with his prose. For example: “The power of the word is two-edged. It can constrain you, Riley learned. A kind of reverse logos. Back home he was struck by how religion seemed to be spoken into a wide-mouthed canning jar and quickly sealed, but the most amazing permutation of toxins bean in that sterile environment. Morality turned into moralism. Couragebecame obedience. Values were edicts. Self-discipline became mental-subjugation. The WORD became simply an act of preservation, of enduring toward some kind of end.”

There’s a strong passage of mother Joan’s frequent trips to the Provo temple, where she she can sit in solitude, contemplate and grieve for her wayward children’s dysfunctions. The fate of one character, a sort of mentor to Riley, left me in tears. Be warned, this is a grim novel, more concerned with the scabs than applying any balm to the wounds. There are random moments of humor that relieve the tension.

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With the renewal of enthusiasm for Mormon history, led by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints itself, it’s about time that the historical personage of Jedediah Grant was resurrected. Possessed of looks reserved for movie matinee idols, the counselor to Brigham Young was a major player in mid-1850s Utah ... and then he died.

One reason Grant may not get the same publicity as his peers is that he was a fiercely devoted advocate of the Mormon reformation, and spoke favorably of now-taboo doctrines such as blood atonement. Nevertheless, he had a fascinating life. Soon after his conversion, he became brother in law to William Smith, prodigal brother to the Prophet Joseph Smith. He served many missions for the church, worked closely with the Mormons’ non-Mormon ally Thomas Kane, and self taught himself to becoming a powerful speaker.

More than a generation ago, Gene A. Sessions, Ogden scholar, wrote a strong biography, “Mormon Thunder: A Documentary History of Jedediah Morgan Grant” (I have a 2008 edition published by Greg Kofford Books). Sessions captures the personality of this early-Mormon leader, and how a tender familial side could go to a bowery pulpit and strike fear in the hearts of the faithful.

Session writes: “Apparently believing that the bloodstream of the body of the Saints needed purification, he (Grant) openly fought dangerous notions that Restoration had lost its way under its new leadership. The Church, he maintained, could and ought to change, but only under the laws set down by the rule of the priesthood. That must be the unchanging order of the universe.”

Many of Grant’s discourses are in “Mormon Thunder,” and they are treasures. Here’ just one excerpt I enjoyed, particularly Grant’s use of slang for a cat: “... I know some of our milk and water folks thought all the fat was in the fire. ’Brother Brigham has gone rather too far; he might have spoken a little milder than he did. I think it would have been much better,’ &c. This was the language of some hearts; and I feel to say, damn all such poor pussyism. ...”

Sessions includes a major tragedy of Grant’s life, losing his wife and infant child on the Pioneer trail. The account includes his return to gather the infant’s body, only to discover the corpse had been picked apart and scattered by wild animals. Overall, “Mormon Thunder” is an interesting account of a remarkable church leader.

-- Doug Gibson

Originally published at StandardNet.