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

The novel Brother Brigham gets an updated release

"Brother Brigham," a novel by D. Michael Martindale, was first published in 2007. The Zarahemla Press release told the story of C.H. Young, his wife Dani, and two small boys; a faithful Mormon family with parents who despite loving each other, are living an impoverished life that both exhausts them and leaves them feeling spiritually guilty that they can't devote enough time to ward activities, church attendance, temple session visitations. 

C.H. is related to the famous LDS prophet Brigham Young, "Brother Brigham," and harbors a belief that he'll one day have a calling of great importance. One day C.H. is amazed to have the spirit of Brigham Young appear to him and tell him he'll soon be the LDS prophet. This leads to a series of increasingly unsettling events that captures readers' interests and imagination.

Latter-day Saint young families, with one earner, can identify with the protagonists as they are introduced in the tale. A still-young marriage, even younger children, an exhausted wife, a husband frustrated with a low salary and deferred personal dreams that he suspects may never be realized. 

Last November, Martindale published an updated version of the novel. The plot has not changed but he's brought it into the Internet, smart phone, Blu-Ray, digital world we have in 2019. An example is where the Youngs, provided some money courtesy of Brother Brigham, switch from an old VHS to a Blu-Ray player and finally shed themselves of the once ubiquitous Disney VHS cassettes. (Many a reader, myself included, with small kids almost a generation ago, remembers those Disney VHS tapes). It underscores the very limited means of the family that they passed the DVD era without money to upgrade from VHS.

Readers can order the updated "Brother Brigham" (and other fiction) at Wordsmithstories.com (here) and purchase the updated paperback also via amazon here. It can also be purchased here via Kindle.

The following interview with the author contains spoilers.

Below is 2010 review of "Brother Brigham" that I wrote for the Standard-Examiner newspaper in 2010. Afterwards there is an interview this month with Martindale. I also share a cartoon from the great Cal Grondahl, published in 2010.

-- Doug Gibson
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HEADLINE: Brother Brigham forces the LDS reader to ponder some uncomfortable thoughts

One of the quirkiest, and enjoyable edgy Mormon fiction out there remains “Brother Brigham,” (2007, Zarahemla Books) It’s a pity that probably only a few hundred people have read the novel. Utah Author D. Michael Martindale’s bizarre, at times sexy tale prompts the attentive LDS reader to really wonder if they’re faith is as strong as they might like to think it is.

“Brother Brigham,” set in Salt Lake County, involves Cory Horace “C.H.” Young, descendant of Brigham Young, married in the temple to Danielle. A BYU “marriage” dropout with dreams of being a violinist, he works in a bookstore and lives in a tiny duplex with his wife and two sons, Petey and Glenn. At the bookstore there’s a cute bohemian girl named Sheila who dabbles in satanism.

One day, out of the blue, “Brigham Young” appears to C.H. and tells him that the LDS Church has slipped into apostasy and that he, C.H., has been called of God to restore the Gospel. “Brigham” informs C.H. that polygamy must also be restored. “Brigham” leads C.H. to hidden away money in the desert west of Salt Lake City.

The angel, using the same type of language as the Prophet Joseph Smith records in Mormon accounts, pushes C.H. to get things rolling. C.H. reluctantly agrees. He manages to convince his skeptical wife, and then follows the angel’s commandment to marry Satan-dabbler Sheila, who perhaps not surprisingly given her personality, accepts C.H.’s offer. Things start to spiral more out of control when “Brigham” commands C.H. to take an underage ward teen, Cyndy, as a second plural wife.

“Brother Brigham” is a lighter novel than may appear from the brief partial synopsis. C.H. is very reluctant to take on what he’s been commanded to do despite promises from “Brigham” that he will be successful. There’s a lot of sex in Martindale’s prose. This will never be a novel found on the virgin shelves of Deseret Book. One funny, sexy sequence involves C.H. and Sheila’s wedding night where, at least for the groom, “plural love” turns into solo lust.

I won’t give away the ending of "Brother Brigham," although a turn in the plot and the climax are quite clever. Mormon lore abounds in “Brother Brigham.” A promise in C.H.’s patriarchal blessing seems to hint at what will occur to him. When “Brigham” appears to C.H., he follows Mormon lore by asking the angel to shake hands with him. The plot also includes references to the Book of Mormon and wrestling with demons and raging theological debates Parley P. Pratt-style.

“Brother Brigham” is not a book critical of the LDS faith, but its very plot forces the honest Mormon reader to confront two uncomfortable thoughts. How many of us, if we had lived in the time of Joseph Smith, would have believed a 14-year-old boy had been visted by Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ? And, a question perhaps even more difficult to answer, is: Had we been members of the early LDS Church, how many of us would have agreed to ditch our matrimonial covenants and pursue wives half our age? Would we have thought that was of God, or a product of lust?

These are not questions that today’s Mormons ponder often. In fact, most of us have become quite comfortable scorning fundamentalist polygamist Mormons for their “sinful” lifestyles.

“Brother Brigham,” besides being a great read, reminds us that we’re pretty lucky to be Mormons in 2010, where C.H’s experiences remain something that we’re not likely to have to deal with.

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Interview with D. Michael Martindale (February, 2019)

Do CH and Dani represent a certain type of Latter-day Saint who is too busy with real life to embrace a very active role in the church but retain a strong traditional role, in which a forbidding, commanding, intimidating Brigham Young would seem to be from God? How does the historical culture of the church encourage that interpretation?

MARTINDALE: I'll say right off that what all aspects of Brother Brigham represent is my effort to tell a compelling story. At the time (early 2000's), I looked around and couldn't find any quality LDS novels, so I decided to write what I wanted to read.

I can't say I was ever consciously aware of any thematic motivation  other than trying to write as authentic and engrossing a story as I could. In fact, it's against my literary principles to do so. They too easily become message stories. My main goal is to write as honestly as I can--honest to the plot, honest to the characters. I put my own biases in neutral as much as any human can and let the characters be who they are, no matter how much I may agree or disagree with them.

This means I'm actually in the same position as any student of literature. I have no idea what was in my (subconscious) mind when I wrote this, so I have to analyze it and come to conclusions like everyone else.

Having said all that, I can tell you what C.H. and Dani as a couple represent to me. First and foremost, they represent the kind of relationship I wish I could have had in marriage. Second, their faithfulness but mediocre commitment was purely a literary device, because I was walking a treacherous tightrope trying to make their deception believable. When you think about it, the whole story is preposterous in spite of the fact that theoretically, according to Mormon theology, it could happen. Would someone who was visited by a devil really take that long to figure it out?

That's why I put them in circumstances that challenged their commitment and spiritual state. That's why I set things up with this vision of a special mission for C.H. that would feed his pride and be his downfall. That's why C.H. interprets the negative spiritual feelings emanating from the evil spirit as guilt and unworthiness--a very Mormon thing to do! I wrestled with trying to hit the perfect balance to make it believable, and was never sure I was succeeding as I wrote.

So C.H. and Dani represent the kind of LDS member who would believably be deceived by the demon so it could drive the plot.

The church's culture feeds into that in a few ways, the concept of continuing revelation, including personal revelation, the literal visitations from angels in its history, the lingering nostalgia for the days of polygamy that seems to persist, coupled with a "what if" question that can only be asked within the context of Mormondom, thereby generating a thoroughly Mormon story: What if an angel visited a contemporary Mormon husband like with Joseph Smith and commanded him to practice polygamy?

That question hints that I wasn't thinking of it being a devil when I first conceived the idea. That came out of story development.

I love the passage where a flustered Dani at the library is helped by a woman who scares her due to her appearance? Is this a deliberate effort to underscore how often we discriminate against people due to their appearance? 

MARTINDALE: It was a DELIBERATE effort to make a bland scene dramatic. SUBCONSCIOUSLY I'm sure there was some element of that involved, once I conceived of how the scene would play out. I certainly looked back on it when finished pleased with myself for having organically placed a moving moral lesson in there, a lesson I felt applied to myself as much as any other Mormon.

I noticed the use of Blu Rays and smart phones to take the story ahead in time. I liked the idea of the Youngs being so poor they relied on old VHS tapes and a VHS player. Those Disney VHSs are memorable to anyone raising kids a generation ago? What other touches were used to move the story ahead in time?

MARTINDALE: I had them purchase a hybrid vehicle instead of the original "just a van." I can't really think of any other updated technology other than the player and the phones, the existence of which demanded acknowledgment to avoid making the story sound dated. Deep down the book's still a product of its time, early 2000s, with cosmetic changes to disguise that. I don't even know if the Satanic Bible is still in print, or if its cover had been updated since I described it, and the bookstore in Valley Fair Mall is one where I worked at which no longer exists (B. Dalton).

Talk about how the appearances of Brother Brigham prompted the Youngs to bring to reality feelings of lust, envy, materialism, regret, pride, self-grandeur, that were always under the surface. “Legion” understands that and boasts of how successful he was with Korihor, but is as successful with them. Does this underscore that perhaps we don’t understand and interpret theology and Scripture as closely as we should?

MARTINDALE: Oh, no question we're sloppy and lazy with our understanding of theology and scripture. Instead of conducting our own search for truth, we rely on what we're spoonfed in a church environment. We go to great effort to contort the reality we observe to match the approved worldview. (Channeling my previous Mormon self.)

But I didn't explore those things to serve an agenda. I used those things to try to make the story believable to Mormon readers. Always on my mind was the question, "How COULD they be so deceived?" And it felt like a real juggling act putting the pieces together.

Have any of your interpretations of the major characters changed, even a little, over the 12 plus years you have dealt with them?

MARTINDALE: I don't think so, because I write in a manner comparable to "the method" in acting. I become the characters, then write what I would do. When I go back to reading the book years later, I can readily reassume that state of mind and be back where I was when I wrote it. As I read it through again to rewrite and typeset it, it moved me in the same way it did in those earlier years. 

I very much separate my personal mindset, thoughts, and feelings when I write, and focus completely on who these characters are and what they think, say, and do, and remain as honest and fair to them as I can. I live in their paradigms when I write them. Therefore they still represent who they were when I wrote them, because they're honestly evoked characters.

If anything, I long even more to have a relationship like C.H. and Dani have.

Your novel can be erotically charged. CH’s first encounter with Sheila in her home is a strong example. Why do you think this turns away LDS adult readers, even when these types of scenes are essential to the story? No one seems to object that Coriantumr succumbs to temptation in The Book of Mormon, but later repents, as CH does?

MARTINDALE: Because brainwashing. Bean-counting morality. Nobody cares what the message is, the themes, the honesty of the story. They just want to count how many cuss words, how many sex scenes--but curiously not how much violence--and pass their judgment accordingly, ignoring the fact that many horrific things happen in the scriptures they say uplift and inspire them when they read them.

I would imagine that disconnect comes from how scripture is more surreal than real, ancient writing styles and archaic language, canonized into holy artifacts rather than seen as compelling profound stories, whereas good novelists put great effort into making it feel real like the reader is experiencing it. Plus a dash of the apologetic urge to whitewash everything associated with one's religion because they think potential converts would be turned off by imperfection. In reality, the opposite is true--imperfections are what moves and endears people to stories, as long as the reader doesn't have an agenda invested in them--message stories. Nobody likes obnoxious perfection. Nobody believes obnoxious perfection.

Is there anything else you would like to add for readers?

MARTINDALE: I was a believing, practicing Mormon when I wrote Brother Brigham. Although I knew its edginess would challenge Mormon culture, not for one minute did I entertain the idea that I was writing something evil or apostate or inappropriate within LDS standards. To this day I wonder how speaking the truth can be considered a vice, not a virtue. The notion that the book is anti-Mormon is an insulting joke.

My feelings are captured in my favorite tagline for the book: "Brother Brigham is completely faithful to the gospel--but not all its characters are."

LDS writer Carter’s essays exploit the tension between right and wrong

There’s a furtive thrill in reading honest Mormon writing because we encounter characters, or better yet, real people — who aren’t cliches or caricatures — wrestling with the same doubts that everyone experiences but is so rarely talked about in the three-hour block called church on Sunday. Part of the thrill is realizing that honest LDS writing is still frowned on by many who should know better.

Stephen Carter, the editor of Sunstone, has a book of essays published by Provo’s Zarahemla Books. “What of the Night” deals with many subjects, including death, Carter’s relationship with an inactive brother, non-member neighbors and fishing, mission experiences, and trying to come to terms with what having the priesthood means. The essays are effective because Carter doesn’t telegraph his intentions in advance. He’s not preaching to readers. He’s relating experiences to Mormonism, telling us how it went with him. Although readers will likely not have equal experiences, they will have had similar experiences that provided the same emotions. If an honest reader can stand honest writing, writer and readers can share empathy from the experiences.

I was particularly moved by Carter’s two-essay tribute on the final years of Mormon academic Eugene England’s life. My communication with England was not even as an acquaintance. As BYU newspaper editor, I used to get a lot of feedback from him and his family. The England that Carter knew well — intelligent, liberal, motivated, impulsive and with an eager knowledge of studying the Gospel — fits what I recall of the man.

Carter captures a lesson I learned from England’s example perfectly when he talks of “Gene’s commitment to Joseph Smith’s concept of ‘proving contraries.’ When one proves contraries, Gene always argued, you aren’t doing so to identify what is right and what is wrong but to experience the tension between them. It is the experience of dwelling in this tension that makes you wiser.”

The “tension” that Gospel questions provides my mind is what keeps me a believing member of the LDS Church. I fear that if I had avoided confronting the endless arguments against God or the LDS Church I would have left spirituality long ago. From England’s example, I realize that my outspoken atheist friends, or scholars such as Fawn Brodie or Will Bagley, are as important to my relationship with God and my spirituality, as The Book of Mormon, the Holy Bible, or the works of Parley P. Pratt. There’s a certain irony that a late friend of mine who spurned any independent LDS publications and took a special interest in vilifying England left the church while England himself died a faithful member. If tensions are not explored, little of value is learned, and whatever faith exists is soft.

It hurt to reads from Carter about England’s slow demise due to brain cancer, or the hateful comments he received from men he revered as representatives of Jesus Christ, but I’m glad he and many others provide us material to enrich our lives.

All of Carter’s essays are thought-provoking. I particularly enjoyed “The Weight of Priesthood,” that explores his feelings of doubt that he could provide power and testimony to others during his youth, mission, and post-mission life. Any priesthood holder who has been given the task of blessing a seriously ill person can understand the doubts and weight associated with such responsibility.

-- Doug Gibson

-- Originally published in 2010 on StandardBlogs