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The Bishop's Wife (Mette Ivie Harrison)
3/5. Okay. So. I thought I was going to adore this book. Then I read the first chapter. Then I thought I was going to hate and despise this book. Then I read the rest of it and decided it was okay. Its principal problem is that it's not the book I wanted it to be, which isn't its fault; a related secondary problem is that it doesn't fully engage with its (LDS) environment, which may not be the author's fault (more on that on a bit) but which I think is a flaw in the book. It's also got some other subsidiary flaws.
The book I wanted was a mystery-sleuth-esque version of Orson Scott Card's Lost Boys, which as far as I'm concerned is the book describing what it is like to be a practicing LDS living in an LDS ward. I don't know of any other book that does it nearly as well. What I wanted was for this book to do for LDS women what Lost Boys did for LDS wards as a whole: show the fabric of the cross-connections, the friendships (the feuds, for that matter), the acts of service and love binding together the women of the ward (and, heck, the acts of pettiness and obnoxiousness, and how they're dealt with) -- which is THE thing that I find most wonderful and valuable about the LDS church -- and use that as a jumping-off point to solve the mystery.
The book I got was a mystery that sort of tangentially took place in a space created by a religion that was similar to but utterly unlike the LDS Church I know, with almost nothing in the way of cross-connections between women (heck, it only barely passes Bechdel), no sense of that fabric binding the ward as a whole. Linda, the main character and titular Bishop's Wife, is some sort of brave soul all by her lonesome forging those interpersonal connections one agonizing link by link by bringing baked goods and for the first time opening up to other people who open up to her because she is The Bishop's Wife.
Okay, the baked goods might actually be pretty accurate :) I do not personally do baked goods, but it's sort of a stereotypical Mormon Woman thing to do. (The bishop's wife thing, just so you know, is not at all accurate. "If the bishop is the father of the ward, the bishop's wife is the mother." Um… no. The LDS religion is sort of wildly patriarchal, but it does not extend to making the woman's organization some unofficial one-woman wife thing. There is an actual calling for this: Relief Society President. She's responsible for the spiritual well-being of the women of the ward (not just for Checking Off Lists as this book would have you believe) — but she's supported in this by a whole hierarchy of women, not excepting the Visiting Teaching program, in which every active woman is paired with and responsible for at least one other woman. Now, the bishop's wife might step in sometimes — there was a recent incident in our ward where a woman who desperately needed help was calling everyone she could, and the RS presidency wasn't immediately available for some reason, and she called the bishop, and the bishop's wife was able to help her. But that's an exception rather than the rule, which is why I even remember it.)
But the connections? The ones Linda is making all by her lonesome? In a real ward, they're made every week, from the talks and lessons people give at church, from people's church callings, from the socialization of new mothers or old craft groups or random movie nights Just Because. The women of my ward's Relief Society have grieved with our sisters over miscarriages, infertility, the death of parents, the death of babies, the challenges of special needs children… these women have celebrated new babies and new jobs and reconciliations and children growing up — these women try to bear one another's burdens, to mourn with those who mourn, to rejoice with those who rejoice. That is what being a LDS woman is about.
(The book I wanted would have had Linda tap into that network — like an LDS Miss Marple — to get her information. I still want that book SO MUCH, darn it. Maybe Shannon Hale will write it.)
Mette Ivie Harrison is a practicing — lifelong, I think — Mormon. So this book must reflect her experience to some extent — it feels like that kind of book, the sort of book where she's writing what is true for her. I feel sorry for her, if so, because that's not the way it should be. Also, she lives in Utah, which I understand is itself a foreign country where Mormons are concerned — being a Mormon in California is a very different thing, culturally.
I mean, I get the idea that Linda — or Harrison -- might not have any best friends who are LDS. I don't have a real, true friend who understands the way I think and feel in my ward. But what I do have are a lot of people where we support and help one another even if we don't always understand one another (maybe especially when we don't understand one another — see all my posts about church music in the last five years, ha), and that is the sense that is so entirely lacking in the book.
And this was not the strongest book in general in terms of characterization anyway. In particular, the thing that bugged me most: There's a phenomenon I see sometimes in books where every character feels the need, no matter how improbable, to validate the heroine (it's usually a heroine, sadly) by telling her how awesome and great and wonderful she is, regardless of whether there is any indication in the text that way. This book suffers from that. Characters are continually telling Linda how awesome and nonjudgmental she is. This would be less annoying if it weren't for the part where she really is judgmental as all heck. She makes judgments on everyone in the freaking book, many of which are explicitly called out as incorrect! I mean, I don't hold it against her — it's a time-honored mystery tradition for the narrator of a mystery novel to jump to incorrect conclusions until the climax — but to have people then earnestly tell her how sweet and nonjudgmental she is is a little more than I can take. And then there are the judgments that never get reversed — poor Cheri Tate, condemned to be no more than a list-maker and list-checker in Linda's mind forever.
If you're not LDS, you may very well enjoy this book. Linda's journey towards forming connections is a nice, valuable one! I'm pretty sure I would have rated it higher had I known nothing of being LDS. But be aware that being LDS isn't necessarily like that. (Note: Last sentence slightly changed to reflect![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thistleingrey's well-founded point.)
The book I wanted was a mystery-sleuth-esque version of Orson Scott Card's Lost Boys, which as far as I'm concerned is the book describing what it is like to be a practicing LDS living in an LDS ward. I don't know of any other book that does it nearly as well. What I wanted was for this book to do for LDS women what Lost Boys did for LDS wards as a whole: show the fabric of the cross-connections, the friendships (the feuds, for that matter), the acts of service and love binding together the women of the ward (and, heck, the acts of pettiness and obnoxiousness, and how they're dealt with) -- which is THE thing that I find most wonderful and valuable about the LDS church -- and use that as a jumping-off point to solve the mystery.
The book I got was a mystery that sort of tangentially took place in a space created by a religion that was similar to but utterly unlike the LDS Church I know, with almost nothing in the way of cross-connections between women (heck, it only barely passes Bechdel), no sense of that fabric binding the ward as a whole. Linda, the main character and titular Bishop's Wife, is some sort of brave soul all by her lonesome forging those interpersonal connections one agonizing link by link by bringing baked goods and for the first time opening up to other people who open up to her because she is The Bishop's Wife.
Okay, the baked goods might actually be pretty accurate :) I do not personally do baked goods, but it's sort of a stereotypical Mormon Woman thing to do. (The bishop's wife thing, just so you know, is not at all accurate. "If the bishop is the father of the ward, the bishop's wife is the mother." Um… no. The LDS religion is sort of wildly patriarchal, but it does not extend to making the woman's organization some unofficial one-woman wife thing. There is an actual calling for this: Relief Society President. She's responsible for the spiritual well-being of the women of the ward (not just for Checking Off Lists as this book would have you believe) — but she's supported in this by a whole hierarchy of women, not excepting the Visiting Teaching program, in which every active woman is paired with and responsible for at least one other woman. Now, the bishop's wife might step in sometimes — there was a recent incident in our ward where a woman who desperately needed help was calling everyone she could, and the RS presidency wasn't immediately available for some reason, and she called the bishop, and the bishop's wife was able to help her. But that's an exception rather than the rule, which is why I even remember it.)
But the connections? The ones Linda is making all by her lonesome? In a real ward, they're made every week, from the talks and lessons people give at church, from people's church callings, from the socialization of new mothers or old craft groups or random movie nights Just Because. The women of my ward's Relief Society have grieved with our sisters over miscarriages, infertility, the death of parents, the death of babies, the challenges of special needs children… these women have celebrated new babies and new jobs and reconciliations and children growing up — these women try to bear one another's burdens, to mourn with those who mourn, to rejoice with those who rejoice. That is what being a LDS woman is about.
(The book I wanted would have had Linda tap into that network — like an LDS Miss Marple — to get her information. I still want that book SO MUCH, darn it. Maybe Shannon Hale will write it.)
Mette Ivie Harrison is a practicing — lifelong, I think — Mormon. So this book must reflect her experience to some extent — it feels like that kind of book, the sort of book where she's writing what is true for her. I feel sorry for her, if so, because that's not the way it should be. Also, she lives in Utah, which I understand is itself a foreign country where Mormons are concerned — being a Mormon in California is a very different thing, culturally.
I mean, I get the idea that Linda — or Harrison -- might not have any best friends who are LDS. I don't have a real, true friend who understands the way I think and feel in my ward. But what I do have are a lot of people where we support and help one another even if we don't always understand one another (maybe especially when we don't understand one another — see all my posts about church music in the last five years, ha), and that is the sense that is so entirely lacking in the book.
And this was not the strongest book in general in terms of characterization anyway. In particular, the thing that bugged me most: There's a phenomenon I see sometimes in books where every character feels the need, no matter how improbable, to validate the heroine (it's usually a heroine, sadly) by telling her how awesome and great and wonderful she is, regardless of whether there is any indication in the text that way. This book suffers from that. Characters are continually telling Linda how awesome and nonjudgmental she is. This would be less annoying if it weren't for the part where she really is judgmental as all heck. She makes judgments on everyone in the freaking book, many of which are explicitly called out as incorrect! I mean, I don't hold it against her — it's a time-honored mystery tradition for the narrator of a mystery novel to jump to incorrect conclusions until the climax — but to have people then earnestly tell her how sweet and nonjudgmental she is is a little more than I can take. And then there are the judgments that never get reversed — poor Cheri Tate, condemned to be no more than a list-maker and list-checker in Linda's mind forever.
If you're not LDS, you may very well enjoy this book. Linda's journey towards forming connections is a nice, valuable one! I'm pretty sure I would have rated it higher had I known nothing of being LDS. But be aware that being LDS isn't necessarily like that. (Note: Last sentence slightly changed to reflect
thistleingrey's well-founded point.)
no subject
(The character validation aspect seems entirely separate. I haven't read anything of hers yet, though Rose Throne is on tbr somewhere.)
no subject
I've read Mira, Mirror and didn't notice the character validation thing then, but it's something I've only started to notice in the past couple of years. (Briefly, I was one of the betas for a novel draft which also went through beta with a fairly well-established writer -- who very kindly and thoroughly pointed out all the character validation that was rampant in that draft. Since then I've been rather more sensitive to it, even though I wasn't the author of that particular book!)