Spiritual comfort food from the latest LDS conference, from 2010

    

I wrote this piece almost 13 years ago for the now-defunct StandardBlogs and rescued it from Wayback. I found it interesting, still agree with most, although I was likely wrong that the good Elder Bednar will become the prophet. -- Doug Gibson

Since I returned from my mission; and that was 25-plus years ago, I’ve thought of LDS General Conference as LDS comfort food — far less fatty than Oreos, but often not much more nutritious than a rice cake. I figured out a long time ago — and I think the conference speakers would agree — that ultimately it’s up to me to figure out what’s best for myself, and along with my wife, what’s best for her, us, and the kids.

Let’s face it: the latest very heartfelt account from President Thomas S. Monson about someone who died tragically leaving a great testimony can provide a big dose of spiritual Jolt, but it wears off after a few hours.

These years, at conference time, I listen for talks on how to raise kids so that they’ll still want to go to church at that time near or at adulthood when my advice won’t mean as much to them. Elder L. Tom Perry and Elder David A. Bednar provided some good advice. The former stressed the need to make sure that the Gospel is taught in home as much as church. Elder Bednar, who I believe will be the prophet in my children’s formative adult years, reminds parents that if they want their beliefs to stick with their kids, they have to bear witness constantly of them. Of course, even then we may have to accept that a child will follow a different path. In the working draft of a biography of Spencer W. Kimball, “Lengthen Your Stride,” a small portion of the book reveals the late prophet’s anguish over his son, Spence, deciding Mormonism was not for him. I fear that anguish.

I was impressed with a pair of talks that President Dieter F. Uchtdorf gave. At the Priesthood session, he provided an excellent lesson on the difference between “patience” and “endurance.” The former is an active part of achieving a goal or perfection. It’s a virtue and something godly. That leads to a lesson: As God is patient with us, we should be patient with others, as well as with ourselves. It’s sad to think of how many people spoil their potential, either in a secular or religious sense — because they give up on themselves.

President Uchtdorf also offered excellent counsel on Sunday morning. He urged against pride and said that we should look beyond what may offend us personally and show the same tolerance and love that Christ shows for all of us. Condescension, or talking down to another person, is also not Christ-like. The irony, Uchtdorf explained, is that extending acceptance and love to others strengthens and refines our spirits.

Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, who headed BYU when I went there (I once met him as part of the Daily Universe editorial team) gave a strong attack on pornography and offered suggestions to combat it, such as talking to a bishop, prayer, the Church Web site. I don’t necessarily disagree — I think pornography is far more dangerous than many think. It destroys intimacy in relationships, objectifies the opposite sex, among other problems … — but I sometimes wonder about the practicality of “prevention” advice given to people who have healthy attitudes about sex but are struggling with normal urges in regards to sex.

When I was a young teen, a well-meaning adult member of the church told me that masturbation would lead to excommunication. For years I assumed that would be the penalty for what I occasionally engaged in. The guilt I felt was both overwhelming and a waste of energy. I have a young son and there is absolutely no way I am going to put him through that same kind of guilt trip. Instead, he’ll learn in several years that although dad and mom want to keep an eye on his reading and watching material, there are some things that we’ll take in stride.

And despite what he may hear from others, that is not a sin at this stage in his life.

Rarely seen 'Corianton: A Story of Unholy Love, 1931, packs BYU's Varsity Theater

 

Review/observations by Doug Gibson

For about a couple decades, I had longed to view the early sound film "based" on a segment of The Book of Mormon. It's "Corianton: A Story of Unholy Love," 1931. With artistic license, it tells of Alma's somewhat troublesome son, Corianton, and his involvement with the harlot, Isabel. This is all part of Alma's letters to Corianton in Book of Alma, chapters 39-42.

Now that's not Isabel reclining and wearing very little in the poster above. But the woman -- an extra -- is in the film, and dressed as such. Corianton ... premiered in Salt Lake City and then promptly flopped at the box office. Ultimately, more money was likely earned by lawyers litigating over the film than at the box office. It's a low-budget black and white film that once aspired to be in color. The Great Depression cut fundraising severely, and it limps to its climax, with the final scenes - a battle between the Zoramites and the Righteous -- a mixture of stock footage from the 1922 big-budget film "Sodom and Gomorrha," and the Corianton ... film actors passionately fighting, arguing, and dying on what looks like a stage.

Nevertheless, I loved this film after watching a restored version that played at BYU's Varsity Theater the last Friday of January. The BYU Motion Picture Archives hosted the event, and the Varsity Theater was packed. (Granted there was no charge, but that's still a great crowd). Panelists -- including author/historian Ardis E. Parshall, and Ben Harry, curator of BYU's Motion Picture archives, provided commentary before and after the film.

(A lot of the back history of this film mentioned in this blog post, as well as many of its artistic merits, pro and con, was also observed by the panelists and noted in a book on Corianton edited by Parshall. Here is one still from the film, below.)

Parshall, by the way recently edited a book -- The Corianton Saga -- covering the history of the Corianton story adaptations. It was first a novella by LDS General Authority B.H. Roberts, titled Corianton: A Nephite Story, then adapted into a play by an eccentric Latter-day Saint named Orestes U. Bean, who developed an obsession with the story he had appropriated from Roberts, as well as another late-19th century Book of Mormon-themed novel titled, A Ship of Hagoth, by Julia A. McDonald.

The play was titled "Corianton." It played well in what is described as the "Mormon corridor," or areas heavily populated by Latter-day Saints. When its backers took the play to parts east of the Rocky Mountain West -- including New York City -- it failed. In New York City, Bean titled it "An Aztec Romance."

A little backstory: In the late 19th century, there was an effort from LDS leaders to create art from the Scriptures, and the church's doctrine and its early struggles. Besides the aforementioned books that resulted, there was Nephi Anderson's tale that included the pre-existence, Added Upon. That book was in my family's library as I was growing up. Besides novels there were plays and short stories. I recall reading one by Anderson in which a lazy LDS teenager -- too bored to attend church -- was thrust into a dream where he experiences the pre-Utah persecution of the Saints. This sort of "'Mormon Renaissance" was the precursor of the film, "Corianton: A Story of Unholy Love."

I know I am meandering so I'll try to get to the film. In the 1920s, an entrepreneur named Lester Park, after watching impressive films like "Ben Hur" gain notice, acclaim, and box-office money, decided that the story of Corianton would be box-office gold. The project was successful early, and even the tepid resulting film has evidences of the early money. It was filmed in New Jersey. Its music composer was from "Ben Hur," The film's orchestra music was overseen by the former head of the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra of New York City. Professional dancers were in the film, and the LDS Tabernacle Choir and Great Organ is heard in the film. I mentioned that an original idea was to shoot the film in color.

But, as mentioned, the money started to dry up. And there was a second problem; the play's mercurial, eccentric, odd, creator, the aforementioned Orestes Bean. He had finagled himself a lot of control over the production, which caused headaches for director Wilfrid North and the film crew. In fact, a lot of the film was shot in a hurry while Bean was off getting married, and absent from the set.

Corianton ... starts with the trial of Korihor. Corianton is a fan of the apostate, and critic of his father Alma. His faith is re-energized once he sees Korihor struck dumb and he goes off on his mission, with his brother Shiblon. Once with the Zoramites, though, he becomes too friendly with Zoramite nobleman, Prince Seantum. Seantum conspires with his mistress, Isobel, to get Coriantumr infatuated with her. The plan, which works to perfection, lures Coriantumr to a swinging Zoramite party where he's fed lots of wine by Isobel. Once his drunkeness is publicized by Seantum and others, the reputation of the missionaries is tarnished.

Prince Seantum is not in The Book of Mormon. Nor is a woman named Relia, a pious woman who is engaged to Shiblon but actually in love with Corianton. Meanwhile, Isobel, despite her treachery, falls in love with Corianton, who feels regret at what he has done. This all really upsets Seantum, who plots not only the murder of Corianton and Isobel, but plans to lead an army and destroy the righeous Nephites. The climax of the film is that battle.

I'm conditioned not to reveal the end of movies, which is kind of unfair since Harry told the audience at the Varsity Theater that there are no plans to release this film, as a DVD, or on YouTube, or on TV. However, interested readers can purchase the book Parshall edited, as it contains the entire film script.

This is not a traditionally good movie. I would give it 1.5 stars out of 4. But it's still so interesting to watch. If I could, I'd buy 40 copies and give them to likeminded friends. As Harry noted, "(the film) is a holdover from an earlier era." Pomp and majesty, and drama, and very loud talking is how the film conveys its religious message. It's not like films today which focus on emotion and deep spirituality to convey a religious message. As Harry noted, it's a lot like "Ben Hur" was in its religious delivery.

"We need to watch with one eye in 1931 and one eye in 2023," Harry added. (See another still from the film below.)

My opinion of the film is that it mixes three different artistic styles, the creaky, still under-developed sound technology of 1931, the pantomime, emotional style of silent cinema, and the loud, let's-project-our-voice-through-the-auditorium of the traditional stage. (Harry also noted a couple of these observations.)

Much of the overly emotional, tragedian (particularly from the actor who played Shiblon) acting in the film is risible today, and there were a dozen-plus incidents in the film that evoked respectful laughter.

As was noted by Parshall, an unhealthy influence of too much Orestes Bean found itself into the script as the film progresses. Suddenly, the actors started to talk in a Shakespearean manner. "(Bean liked) thees and thous," Parshall told the audience. Parshall does note that these were talented artists, on both sides of the camera.

Much of the film's faults are due to the lack of money as filming progressed. The "Beanish" script didn't help, and the normal-for-the-times overly dramatic, tragedy-like lamenting over-acting doesn't go over well today, and invites giggles from the audience. Those who have read The Book of Mormon, I feel comfortable saying, won't see "Korihor," or "Alma," in the actors on the screen.

One favorable note for this film is it underscores the progressive nature of Mormonism when it comes to salvation. During the climax, actors express their confidence that God will forgive them of their sins, accept their repentence, and welcome them to heaven. In fact, one character claims that he received revelation that Korihor had been saved.

Also, the two leads, Eric Alden as Corianton, and Theo Pennington, as Zoan Ze Isabel, are great in their roles. (In what strikes me as humorous, I learned at the film showing that Bean's wife eventually changed her name to Zoan Ze Isabel. Bean, by the way, in the latter years of his life, lectured on his play/movie extensively in southern California, to large crowds. He had a missionary zeal for it.)

Finally, I want to mention one more interesting fact about "Corianton: A Story of Unholy Love." It's a fairly racy film, although that was not uncommon in that film era. There are many dancers dressed like the woman in the above poster. And there is a scene, where an angry Corianton is confronting a penitent Isobel, where Theo Pennington is visibly nude under a thin negligee. One panelist, I cannot recall which, did opine that box office receipts likely dropped after parents had second thoughts about children attending. Frankly, the film would probably garner a PG or PG-13 today, or soft R if the MPAA was in a prudish mood.

I am so glad I saw this historical gemstone. It has so much much value, particular for the cultural history of Mormonism. I appreciate Parshall, Terry and others for publicizing the film and restoring it. It played a decade or so ago at BYU but I missed it. This newer restored version include subtitles, which was helpful. The audience clearly appreciated the film. Harry promised the film will eventually get another showing, and said that a new print has been discovered in California, under a different title. 

(Below, one more still/poster, with the leads "Corianton" and "Isobel.")

Utah County Dream Mine still attracts LDS apocalyptic faithful

 

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This blog post was originally published in January 2011 on the now-defunct StandardBlogs. To my knowledge there are still many invested in the Dream Mine, although no work searching for riches goes on at the site. According to Wikipedia, there was an investors meeting in 2018. 

One of the more fascinating nuggets in Utah Mormon history sits at the foot of a mountain in southern Utah County. Its official name is the Relief Mine, but most know of it as the “Dream Mine.” A long-used white mill building sits next to the mine, mostly inactive for decades. Nevertheless, the Relief Mine is a public company with assets of about $3.5 million. Stock in the mine is traded and there’s a waiting list to buy shares.

As Payson, Utah, writer/historian Kevin Cantera writes in the most recent Sunstone, “investors seeking to purchase a stake in the mine happily place their names on a waiting list for the chance to pay $30 to $35 for a single share — shares with a real value, by the most generous accounting, of less than $10 each.”

Cantera’s piece, “Fully Invested: Taking Stock in Utah County’s Dream Mine,” is as much a history lesson as it is a glimpse into the first 80 or so years of the LDS Church, where visions and prophecies from higher, celestial powers, whether from dad, your bishop or a general authority, were common. That’s a lost era. If a ward member gets up today and claims to have seen Christ or the Angel Moroni, we’re apt to trade concerned glances with our seat neighbors and look embarrassed. The bishop might call a regional rep if the claim is repeated. Can anyone imagine one of today’s apostles recounting experiences that early apostle Parley P. Pratt records in his diary?

The shareholders in the Dream Mine are a throwback to the 19th century. They believe that deep into the Utah County mine there are piles and piles of gold and other precious artifacts, collected by the Nephites of Book of Mormon times. As Cantera recounts, some believe that perhaps the Sword of Laban, or even The Golden Plates, are hidden deep in the earth. The Relief Mine stockholders of the early 21st century aren’t looking for a return that will prompt a hefty capital gains tax. They expect their mine to pay off when the United States is on the brink of collapse and the dollar and other secular monetary systems have fallen.

The precious metals from the mine, and its relation to the Gospel, they believe, will save our nation from destruction in the last days. It’s an apocalyptic desire, one that was much more common 100-plus years ago, when a healthy percentage of blessings and priesthood ordinances promised the recipient that he or she would see the second coming of the Savior.

The prophet who launched the dream mine was Mormon bishop John Hyrum Koyle, who in 1894 claimed a nightime visit from the Angel Moroni, who showed him inside a mountain where there was a rich vein of gold. Lower down were nine caverns filled with Book of Mormon treasures, including the Urim and Thummim.

Koyle spent a long life preaching the doctrine of the Dream Mine and receiving revelations. He had some prominent LDS shareholders, including general authority J. Golden Kimball. The fact that there are still more than 1,000 faithful Latter-day Saints who believe Koyle’s claims underscores faithful Mormons’ strong belief of personal revelation from God. What was shouted from the pulpit long ago is regarded as best kept as a secret today, but there are enough apocalyptic Latter-day Saints out there to follow Koyle’s dream 117 years later.

And, although Koyle — after taking his spiritual mine public — was eventually repudiated by church leaders in 1913, and finally excommunicated in 1947, there are still mine stockholders, including Ogden’s Fred Naisbitt, who is quoted by Cantera as saying, “Koyle is second only to Joseph Smith in the number and accuracy of his prophecies.”

The white mill, which only gleaned 100 dollars worth of ore one year, still sits by the mountain near Spanish Fork, which draws more subdivision neighbors each year it seems. As Cantera reports, the Internet has strengthened the faith of the Dream Mine believers. The Web site is http://www.reliefmine.com but doresn't seem to work now. It had featured a glowing testimony of Koyle and links to other primitive LDS beliefs such as the White Horse Prophecy as well as notices that “the dollar will be utterly destroyed.” There is a Facebook page with contact information.

Who knows? Maybe the dollar will be destroyed. But to most Mormons, even in Utah County, the longer odds are on the Dream Mine one day paying off.

-- Doug Gibson

Lost Apostles a fascinating look into the early years of the LDS Church

 

Signature has a Mormon history book, "The Lost Apostles: Forgotten Members of Mormonism's Original Quorum of Twelve," that provides a valuable look at the early years of Mormonism. Authors William Shepard and H. Michael Marquardt outline characteristics of the original apostles. They were mostly frontier men, chosen for their candor, stamina, independence, testimonies and personalities. These 12 were not administrators; they were young action-oriented men, sent out with virtually no assistance to study during the day, preach at night and try to baptize enough new members to form a small branch. If they were rejected, they left the "unbelievers" with a curse. If an apostle encountered a comely, unattached young woman, it was not uncommon for him to marry her, enjoy a quick honeymoon, and then go back to the mission, with a young wife waiting for his return.

The "Lost Apostles" are John Boynton, Lyman Johnson, his brother Luke Johnson, Thomas Marsh, the first president of the 12, William Smith, brother to the church's founder, and William McLellin. To those with at least an acquaintance of Mormon history, perhaps only Boynton and Lyman Johnson are historical strangers, no more than pictures in a church almanac. They are the two who managed to divorce themselves emotionally from Mormonism. Of the others, two -- Marsh and Luke Johnson -- returned to the now-Utah church, one, McLellin, skipped from Mormon offshoot to offshoot, never content, and William Smith, the legitimate rogue of the outfit, was finally allowed into the reorganized LDS church led by his nephew, ... so long as he behaved himself.

"Lost Apostles," is most interesting when it details the passions, strife, successes, setbacks, celebrations and violence that characterized Mormonism's growth in the 1830s, prior to the emigration to Nauvoo. As Joseph Smith moved the Mormons into the frontier, there were inevitable clashes between the unified newcomers and the older settlers, who didn't cotton to a large new voting bloc roiling the land. A lack of tact and propensity toward violence from both sides inevitably led to outnumbered Mormons being forced out. These exoduses were conducted under duress, in dangerous situations, and innocents died. Although the apostles were supposed to be separate from administrative duties, in reality they were not. They were often caught in the conflicts, internal and external, that roiled Mormonism.

What led most of the "lost apostles" from Mormonism was the 1838-1839 years in Ohio and Missouri. Besides the increasing violence, which became deadly, church leaders made the common mistake of wanting to get rich quick. They started an "anti-bank," due to not being able to get a charter, and created their own money (this could be done 180 years ago). During a brief real estate bubble, investors imagined themselves rich. The bubble broke, sellers and investors wanted their money, and the "currency" of the financial institution became worthless. As the authors detail, there's nothing like disputes over money to destroy harmony. Boynton, the Johnson brothers, McLellin, and later Marsh, left the church during this period. Other prominent church leaders who left were Oliver Cowdery, Martin Harris and David Whitmer. Others who came close to long-time estrangement include apostles Parley P. Pratt, his brother Orson Pratt, and Orson Hyde. William Smith, a product of nepotism, clung to the quorum due to his familial relationship. However, after Joseph Smith was murdered in 1844, his thuggish behavior was not tolerated much longer.

There is a paradox in this account. All of these men witnessed what they believed were heavenly manifestations, they believed that Jesus Christ had blessed them through revelation and assigned them to be apostles.So why was the quorum shattered by greed and violence in only several years? The authors do note that despite disagreements that flared into violence, all of the men were either cordial to, or even confidantes toward one another for the rest of their lives. They were generally kind to the members of the faith they had left. Even John Boynton, who became a celebrated physician and inventor in the mid-1800s, took time out of a tour to visit his old friends in Salt Lake City. Boynton was a man who made pains to avoid mention of his youthful adventure with Mormonism, but decades later, was drawn to reminiscing with his old companions. The short answer to the paradox is that most of the early leaders of the "Mormonites" retained their belief in the Book of Mormon, as well as the early appeal that it was a book designed to usher in the return of Christ, within a generation. Their reasons for leaving, or being forced out via excommunication, were probably close to what the loquacious McLellin often said; in their opinion, the leaders, Joseph Smith, etc., became corrupted, and fell short of the principles they believed the church required.

The "Lost Apostles" is a sympathetic account of the six, but not hagiographies. The commitment to Mormonism that drove these men to be early-Mormon historical figures is acknowledged. Most of the book covers various episodes of Mormon history as the apostles related to them. Late in the book the apostles' lives post-1844 (Smith's death) are covered. As a scholarly offering of Mormon history, it's another of a series of books, including biographies of Parley P. Pratt and Brigham Young, that are part of an ongoing process of shedding "teddy bear" accounts of Mormon history with more detailed, accurate, and fulfilling, "grizzly bear" accounts. The book contains a few 1830s' journalistic accounts of the apostles' missionary efforts that are fascinating to read.

I'll conclude the review with brief recaps of the six apostles and how their lives ended:

John Boynton: Like Lyman Johnson, he was one of two apostles able to shed Mormonism. He became a legitimate celebrity of the 19th century, with inventions, 4,000 lectures and fame as a naturalist doctor. His ultimately unsuccessful marriage to a much younger woman in 1865 was illustrated in Harper's Weekly. He died in 1879 in Syracuse, N.Y.

Lyman Johnson: He stayed close to the roots of Mormonism, and was involved in legal cases of interest to the church in the 1840s. Cordial to his former apostles, he never returned to the LDS church. Tragically, he died Dec. 20, 1859, when the frozen Mississippi River broke while he and another man were crossing on a sled. He had just rented a nearby hotel to run.

Luke Johnson: Even as an excommunicated member, Johnson, as a marshal, helped the Smiths escape from lawmen seeking the Mormon prophet. In 1846, he returned to membership in the church. He emigrated to Utah, where his skills as a dentist helped the pioneers. In Utah, he assumed a respected standing west of Salt Lake City, but was passed over when a spot in the Quorum of the Twelve opened. He died in July 1861, somewhat broken by the recent murder of his son. His younger wife, America, outlived him by 39 years and is buried in Ogden.

Thomas Marsh: Many Mormons know Marsh through the myth of him "leaving the church due to his wife's fight with another sister member over milk strippings." That is nonsense. Marsh left the church in Far West, Mo., because he opposed the violence of some church members' retaliation against anti-Mormons. He testified against the church in hearings. Some blame Marsh's testimony for the extermination order against Mormons issued by Missouri Gov. Lilburn W. Boggs. When, almost 20 years later, Marsh, poverty-stricken, in ill health, abandoned by his wife, and virtually friendless, requested to be admitted to the Utah church, it was granted. Marsh died in Ogden, a pauper, on Jan. 25, 1865. Despite his return to Mormonism, Brigham Young and other church leaders frequently mocked Marsh in his last years, even when he was on the stand with them preparing to deliver a penitent lecture. This cruel behavior indicates that the circumstances of Marsh's apostasy must have had bitter roots.

William McLellin: Thanks to his legacy of diaries, McLellin is a well-traveled figure in Mormon history. Considered a learned but temperamental man, McLellin, perhaps engaging in historical license, created a history of himself joining a church of pure christianity, anchored by the Book of Mormon, without priesthood, apostles, etc. The mercurial McLellin, who lived a very long life, stayed in contact with his former colleagues, frequently reproving them. He joined several offshoots of Mormonism, often as a leader, but eventually became disenchanted and would leave each, usually within several months. He died in 1883.

William Smith: As the authors note, Smith was a legacy apostle, chosen over Phineas Young because brother Joseph Smith requested William. Although the authors note that William Smith was devoted to his brother's church, he was a scoundrel. He was a lecher, a chronic adulterer, a man who enjoyed the company of criminals, and was easily capable of abandoning a wife and young children. He skipped to many offshoots of Mormonism, only to be thrown out of the groups as soon as his character was revealed. In the later years of his life, Joseph Smith III, first president of the Reorganized LDS Church, allowed a chastened William to lecture about his father's early years, but kept his uncle on a very tight leash. William Smith died on Nov. 13, 1893, a few days after catching cold during an RLDS speaking engagement.

-- Doug Gibson

This post was originally published at StandardNET

Remembering Mr. Krueger's Christmas

 

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    Most of the world associates the actor Jimmy Stewart and Christmas with the marvelous Frank Capra film, “It’s a Wonderful Life.”  And that is a classic tale, with everyman George Bailey learning, at his most depressed hour, how much a town needs him.

     But there is another Jimmy Stewart Christmas movie, “Mr. Krueger’s Christmas,” made by the Mormon Church in 1980. (Watch the film herehttps://youtu.be/m7TfY7aK9R4?si=tty5LJi3fuEUiPyz.) It used to be a fixture on TV stations across the nation during the holidays.  It is not an advertisement for the Mormon Church.  Rather, it’s a story of an elderly widower’s optimism and faith that carries him through life, particularly during times such as Christmas, when loneliness can be heightened.

     Stewart, who gives a great performance, plays Willie Krueger, an elderly widower who lives alone with a cat in the basement of an apartment house where he serves as janitor.  We don’t know anything about Mr. Krueger’s past, other than he is a widower and alone this Christmas Eve.  Mr. Krueger is a bit of a Walter Mitty character.  He likes to daydream.  His daydreams are mostly childlike.  He listens to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir on an LP and imagines conducting it.  He peers through a glass shop window at a fancy suit and imagines himself wearing it at a fancy function.  I’m sure most of us have similar daydreams.

    Just as Mr. Krueger is settling in for a lonely Christmas night, he hears carolers outside.  Pleasantly surprised, he shouts from the basement for them to join him for a cup of hot chocolate.  The carolers, who appear well off, are leery of Mr. Krueger, not in a mean way as much as a condescending “this is an odd, old guy” way.  Mr. Krueger excitedly prepares for their visit but they merely stand at his door, sing a song and leave.  All except for a little girl, Clarissa, who wanders into the small home and leaves her mittens.  This paves the way for a second encounter between Mr. Krueger and the carolers.

     I won’t give away the ending except to say that before the reunion there is a deeply moving daydream where Mr. Krueger, looking at a baby Jesus nativity piece, imagines he is at the birth of Christ.  He kneels before the baby Jesus and thanks his Savior for always loving him, no matter if he deserved it or not.  He thanks Jesus for being with him when his wife died and for reminding him to be compassionate to a lonely, cantankerous neighbor.

     This is a powerful scene that establishes Christ’s love – and its power to raise our spirits no matter what – as the main theme of Mr. Krueger’s Christmas.  In fact, it makes the final scene with the carolers seem almost an afterthought.  Mr. Krueger, we learn, can maintain his optimism, his childlike charity and love, no matter what life throws at him.

     Again, there is no proselytizing for the Mormon Church in this film.  That broadens its appeal and certainly helped more people see it.  It’s very popular on the Internet Movie Database, with an 8.0 rating out of a 10 high score.

     The 26-minute film has mostly disappeared from television.  Some people say it is hard to find, but a quick search will find many affordable copies, mostly on Ebay. In 2005, it was re-released on DVD with a remastered musical score and sent to Ensign magazine subscribers.  My copy of it comes with three other LDS-filmed shorts, including the moving four-minute short, “The Nativity,” that recounts Christ’s birth.

     If you haven’t seen this film in more than a few years, hunt it down.  It’s worth another viewing.  In a press conference when the film was released, Stewart, succinct and to the point, summed up why he did the film:

     “I liked the script.  I liked the message.  I thought it was time we needed something like this.”

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This review from long ago (10-plus years) did not even survive in Google Wayback. Glad we had a copy of the Standard Works page to transcribe and bring back Cal Grondahl's wonderful cartoon. (In the early Standard Works days, the cartoons were black and white.) Happy 40th anniversary for this iconic film. I last recall Mr. Krueger's Christmas being promoted at least 15 years ago. We were handed DVDs at church during a Christmas service. But today, I'm sure a healthy number of people watch the film during December.

--- Doug Gibson

--- Originally published at StandardBlogs

The Darkest Abyss is a fascinating, offbeat journey through stories related to Mormonism

 

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Review by Doug Gibson

BCC Press released "The Darkest Abyss: Strange Mormon Stories," near Halloween or so of this year and that really wasn't a bad choice. A lot of the tales provided by author William Morris are curious -- but satisfying -- reads. They all tend to have a little something of fantasy, sinister, otherwordly, -- take your pick. There's even a "witch" in one tale, and a grown-up dryad who's definitely a bigger threat than the "witch."

 Let me start with the dryad tale, "Wild Branches." In it a conventionally eccentric Latter-day Saint mom is very attuned to nature. Her daughter, speaking to a professor, explains that mom was brought by dad from his mission in Finland, in a trunk, and eventually planted in the U.S. The parents are a bit nomadic, traveling a lot, moving often. Dad likes archeaological digs, but as daughter relates, mom was always better at discovering things in the earth.

This story takes a twist at the end that the author, in a podcast, notes veers toward "cozy horror," although it's certainly not a traditional horror tale. I was caught surprised by the ending, which is sinister. However, re-reading the story, focusing on the mom, her likes, dislikes, talents, it makes perfect sense.

"Proof Sister Greeley is a Witch (Even though Mormons Don't Believe in Witches)" is one of my favorites in this book. Morris crafts it in numbered paragraphs, each one supporting the premise of the title. I like the story because I think most Latter-day Saints have a "Sister Greeley" in their ward or branch, eccentric, kind of scary to youngers, misunderstood by members lacking depth, and highly skilled in often underappreciated talents, such as cooking or home nursing. The "Sister Greeleys" of the world also get it that there are "some things the brethren of the priesthood just can't understand," as Morris writes in the tale. 

To me the whole story had the type of pleasant vibe I get from reading the late John D. Fitzgerald, author of "Papa Married a Mormon" and "The Great Brain" books.

Let me interrupt to say what's obvious. Morris is a very talented storyteller who manages to create unique situations and plots within the culture of Mormonism. This is whether he writes about things that can happen daily in this world, or when he constructs alternative universes and supernatural characters. In a review I published years ago for his short story anthology, "Dark Watch," I wrote that "his prose reflects the uncomfortable situations, the struggling to find the right words to persuade, the inclination to rely on a convenient Scripture to try to sway, and the realization from most of those talking that they won't change the minds of those listening to them."

That brings me to another story in "Darkest Abyss," "A Mormon Writer Visits Spirit Prison." I love this fantasy story because, admit it, all of us Mormons wonder what it will be like doing missionary work in the afterlife. How many times do your hear members of the ward insist that their departed ones are busy as bees doing missionary work for their fellow dead? It's an iconic visual in the church's culture.

Morris provides a spin on that scenario that reminds of C.S. Lewis' wonderful novella, "The Great Divorce." In Morris' tale, a post-life missionary gets an earful from a man penned in spirit prison. The man provides solid reasons as to why he's not receptive to this after-the-fact attempt to save his soil. The Mormon Writer prostlyting engages in mostly platitudes. Morris provides superb dialogue that will remind us -- uncomfortably or not -- of the pabulum we sometimes hear in wards, homes, firesides and some literature. Here's an example:

- I am not God. But I am a representative of the Lord Jesus Christ.

- Yes, you are. I don't know why that matters to my situation at all.

- It matters a great deal.

-So you say.

-- Oh, so I'm a lion now. Or am I the politician?

-- You certainly aren't the lover.

-- And yet I do love you. That's why I keep visiting.

-- And do you enjoy your visits to Arkham, Mr. Wayne?

The story ends with the "missionary realizing" he has little empathy or understanding of the man he's trying to convert. It's a fun, uniquely crafted story.

There's 18 stories in the anthology. "Emma Travels West" is an alternative-universe 19th century tale with Emma Smith visiting wary Utahns and pitching her version of plural marriage. I enjoyed how Morris handled media reaction to her visit. "There Wrestled a Man in Parowan" reminds me of reading a great Levi S. Peterson story. (When I mention other authors, please don't think it's an insinuation of Morris being derivative. He is a unique valuable talent in the genre. Many of his stories remind me of books and stories I have enjoyed.)

"A Sword Bathed in Heaven," and "Uncle Porter's Revolver," are excellent reads that deal, in a supernatural manner, with contemporary topics of the last days, or final battles, and firearms for protection. In 'Uncle Porter's Revolver," a young city man is harshly influenced by the unwelcome gift of a firearm. 

What I enjoy about Morris's writing is in these stories, and others, I have heard people in my life talk like the people in the stories. And that's a strength of "The Darkest Abyss," no matter how out there in the "multiverse" some of these stories venture to, the characters are often people you would meet today.

Read this anthology. It's worth readers' time and investments. A few other stories that are must reads include "With All Our Dead, "The Only 15," After the Fast," and "A Ring Set Not with Garnet but Sardius."

About that other Parley P. Pratt biography

Note: I found this review of Reva Stanley's long-ago published biography of the Apostle Parley Pratt in Wayback, dated May 29, 2009. I had been looking for it. I examined its value compared with other sources of Pratt's life, mostly the still well-read "The Autobiography of Parley P. Pratt." Of course, several years later, the world was blessed with a better-researched biography, "Parley P. Pratt: The Apostle Paul of Mormonism," by Terryl L. Givens and Matthew J. Grow. (review here)

Few people, even Latter-day Saints today, understand how very popular the early Mormon apostle Parley Parker Pratt was in the first several decades of the LDS Church. His books, such as “Key to the Science of Theology,” were as common in Mormon households as “Jesus the Christ” or “The Articles of Faith” are today.

Pratt, who was murdered in 1857 in Arkansas by a man whose wife he had married and ran away with, still maintains high popularity among Latter-day Saints. That is due largely to his autobiography, which is still published and available from multiple sources, including free on the Internet.

Also, Pratt was a fascinating, charismatic man, and the “Autobiography of Parley P. Pratt” is an important read. However, sections have been edited, particularly his murder and the events leading up to his death, a result of Pratt marrying a woman under her husband’s nose.

Pratt should be a biographer’s dream. His life cries out for in-depth treatment. Although few know this, there is a biography of Parley P. Pratt out there. It’s the obscure 1937 out-of-print “The Archer of Paradise,” written by Pratt’s great-granddaughter, Reva Stanley.

It was published by The Caxton Printers in Caldwell, Idaho. I found a copy several years ago for $100-plus and have read it many times. It’s a mediocre biography, but complements Pratt’s autobiography very well.

“The Archer of Paradise” relies way too much on the autobiography. Large sections of the book, while properly sourced, are rehashes of the autobiography. However, there is historical value in Stanley’s recount of Pratt’s marriage to Elenore McClean and the subsequent murder of Pratt by her estranged husband, Hector McLean.

Stanley’s account supports the belief that McClean was a violent man, who abused Elenore. It was doubtless imprudent, though, of Pratt to marry her without legal sanction. There is an extensive afterward that includes recounts of the events by Ms. McClean.

Author Stanley is quite critical of early Mormon President Brigham Young. She feels Pratt was mistreated by Young and that Young was a lustful, hypoctitical man with a grandiose complex. Here is how Stanley describes Young in “Archer.”. “It was Brigham’s wont to travel with a huge calvacade. He loved pomp and display and the feeling that he was some sort of king.”

Opinions are mixed freely in “Archer.” Example: Stanley says that the early Mormon church was exciting and progressive. She then laments that the church in the 1930s is run by scared old men living in the past.

One must assume author Stanley was estranged from the LDS Church when she wrote “The Archer of Paradise.” The critical comments, especially those about Young, are probably why this historically important biography has not been re-published by the LDS Church.

That’s a pity. One doesn’t have to agree with Stanley’s grudges to find historical value in “The Archer of Paradise.”  We can hope that there is a well-researched biography of Pratt in the future. (Note: And of course there was one published; the aforementioned, Parley P. Pratt: The Apostle Paul of Mormonism.)

-- Doug Gibson