The Thieves of Summer captures life in long ago Salt Lake City

Review by Doug Gibson

In 2014, Signature Books is released a novel, “The Thieves of Summer,” drafted by Linda Sillitoe just before her death in 2010. Sillitoe is best known for co-authoring the non-fiction crime book “Salamander: The Mormon Forgery Murders,” but also wrote novels, short stories, essays and poetry. In “Thieves of Summer,” Sillitoe combines several of her passions -- crime reporting, elephants, family, Mormonism and the culture of old Salt Lake City -- to craft a cluttered, but nevertheless entertaining summer story.

It’s 1938, and in Salt Lake City’s Liberty Park area the Flynn family is surviving the Depression as best it can. Dad Evan is a police detective, consumed with a case of missing children. His wife, Rose, stays at home and with dad raises Glenn, a new adult, troubled teen Joyce and three 11-year-old triplets, Annabelle, Bethany and Carolee. Nearby lives Princess Alice, a very independent elephant that is the main attraction at the Liberty Park zoo. 

Sillitoe has tossed a lot of ingredients into her novel’s conflict broth, and at times the reader will wonder what exactly is the main plot of “Thieves of Summer.” It probably fits into the genre of crime fiction, but there are long interludes in which the case of the missing children, and the thoroughly evil pedophile antagonist, disappear from the novel. Also, the elephant Princess Alice, tagged pretty early as a major character in the novel, makes cameo appearances until the novel approaches its climax. 

Perhaps a better title would have been “The Family Flynn” because they are the real focus of the novel, particularly the parents and the two oldest siblings. The family’s challenges, which include Glenn getting his girlfriend, Margie, in a family way, as well as emotionally maladjusted Joyce being caught stealing at work and trying to harm her new sister in law, are detailed from both secular and religious consequences. Sillitoe makes it clear that for an active Mormon family in 1938 Salt Lake City, every crisis includes a reaction from the dominant church. In one episode, in which an aunt dies of complications from mumps and pertussis, Sillitoe captures the culture well in the manner the family hustles away Glenn from the quarantined home due to the potential threat to his child-bearing future. The not-always-subtle discrimination against woman is captured in how some ecclesiastical leaders handle Glenn and Margie’s pregnancy.

The author captures the period piece of Depression-era Utah well, particularly in a family outing to Saltair, trips on the old public transportation system, horse-riding in the city, and an era of medicine that relied as much on hope as medical expertise. I particularly enjoyed the innocence of the conversations of the triplets regarding the crisis of Glenn, Margie, Joyce and even the stolen children. They are in that small pocket of life where they know something is amiss but are not actually sure what is amiss. Their ruminations comprise excellent writing.

The climax of the novel, which is the resolution of the criminal case, is easy to predict but nevertheless clever and the writing is very strong. As mentioned, the pedophile criminal is extremely evil and sociopathic. Spending several pages in his head leaves readers wondering if they need to take a shower. Sillitoe has the talent to effectively convey the emotions and thoughts of children and adults. The Flynn father, Evan, is an extremely fair-minded, patient man, and Cynthia Sillitoe, Linda Sillitoe’s daughter and an Ogden resident, notes in the novel’s forward how easy it is to see Evan in her grandfather.

After the novel’s conclusion, there are several actual newspaper articles, as well as a photo of the real Princess Alice elephant, which lived in Salt Lake City and was an attraction at the Liberty Park zoo between 1916 and 1918.

“The Thieves of Summer” is a quirky mix of family tension, crime drama and an homage to an elephant, but the writing is superb and Sillitoe has produced a tale that captures interest and provides entertainment.

-- Originally published at StandardNET

The Bishop's Wife tears at facade of normalcy

“The Bishop’s Wife,” Soho Crime, 2014, (buy it here) stands alone as a fine addition to crime fiction. It has a strong main plot, an almost-as-compelling chief secondary plot, the requisite twists and turns and an exciting climax. As a Mormon-themed novel, penned by active Mormon wife and mother Mette Ivie Harrison, the novel is unique for two reasons: It has a Mormon, stay-at-home mom as its narrator and protagonist, and it deals frankly and provocatively with discrimination, subtle and frank, that is part of a church with a male hierarchy.

The book is a great mystery read, and only the fact that I had to work the next morning kept me from finishing it with an all-night read. In a Draper LDS ward, Bishop Kurt Wallheim, and the bishop’s wife, Linda, receive an early-morning visit from ward member Jared Helm, and his daughter, Kelly, 5. Jared reports that his wife, Carrie, has abandoned the family. Jared is an immature young man, struggling with his marriage. As the author has noted, the story is inspired by the disappearance of Susan Powell several years ago. However, the developing plot does not mimic the turns of the Powell case. As Carrie Helm seems to virtually disappear, Linda Wallheim, a mother of sons, becomes protective of toddler Kelly, who seems a substitute for the daughter she lost to a stillbirth years earlier. She also becomes sympathetic to Carrie Helm’s parents, who use the media to try to indict Jared and his family as culpable in Carrie’s disappearance.

The main subplot involves the illness and death of ward member, Tobias Torstensen, who has been married 30 years to his second wife, Anna. The experience brings Linda and Anna into a close friendship. As Tobias nears death, questions about his first wife’s death — there is no grave and no one seems to know how she died, even her two sons — arise. Through a series of incriminating discoveries, Linda, Anna and even the police are convinced that mild-mannered Tobias murdered his first wife long ago and never told anyone. However, as is a theme in this novel, the story is more complex, providing new answers as layers of long-held secrets are unveiled.

The deepest relationship in the novel is between Kurt and Linda Wallheim. The author makes their relationship one of mostly mutual value, with the usual frustrations, disagreements and trials supported by the loyalty and love that binds the pair together. Linda, the bishop’s wife, is a liberal Mormon; a former atheist tempered by her husband’s more conventional beliefs. She forgives his occasional patriarchal biases, understanding that she has softened him over the years. Ivie Harrison does a good job of presenting a diverse collection of Wallheim sons, all with distinct personalities on life and spirituality. Linda is closest to the youngest, Samuel, who is a lot like his mother, with the novel having him react to many of the events.

Active Mormons will appreciate how well the usual life of a bishop and his wife are outlined. Kurt is an accountant who barely sees his family between church and tax season, as well as Sunday afternoons and evenings. Linda, as a bishop’s wife, struggles to deal with being the “ward mother” and the listening and action that requires. He deals with the ward’s secrets. While his job necessitates discreetness, he trusts his wife enough to request she visit specific families to offer friendship, kind words and baked goodies. In one scene a troubled ward member, understanding that Linda is a better ear than the bishop for his problem, confides in her.

There is another strong scene early that captures Mormon culture. Linda, helping prepare for a wedding at the ward chapel, consoles the bride’s mom over her disappointment that the wedding is not in the temple. It’s an interesting passage because there’s no scandal attached to the wedding; the pair simply want to get married as soon as possible. Active Mormon parents place a high priority on a temple wedding, and its inclusion adds authenticity. (In the years after I wrote this review I have gained more empathy with this scene.)

The disappearance of Carrie Helm carries the novel, as Linda struggles to maintain a relationship with little Kelly after the arrival of her paternal grandfather, a controlling, truly repellent character with obsolete Mormon beliefs. A strength of her character is despite her impetuous nature — which leads her to make wrong assumptions — she’s able to embrace the truth when it’s revealed. And it’s several twists, and a key discovery, that makes Linda again question her ability to discern what’s righteous and what’s evil.

And the truth doesn’t come easy in “The Bishop’s Wife.” The “normalcy” of an LDS ward is taken apart layer by layer as serious injuries and dysfunctions are revealed. And these layers can’t be peeled back in a nice manner. They are torn off the facade of the ward, with the requisite pain, bleeding and adverse consequences.

If there’s a quibble with “The Bishop’s Wife,” it’s Linda’s specific action that leads to the climax. I’m not sure Ivie Harrison’ character, while impulsive, would willingly put herself into such certain danger. But it’s an exciting scene nevertheless, and wraps up a novel that’s well worth reading, either all night long or during a particularly boring Sacrament meeting.

- Doug Gibson

Originally published at StandardNET.