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Darkness Visible: A Novel of the 1892 Homestead Strike
Tensions escalate in a wage dispute between Carnegie Steel and unionized workers in the gritty mill town of Homestead, Pennsylvania, during the spring of 1892. When the company's contract with the Amalgamated Association of Iron and Steel workers expires at the end of June, Carnegie's partner, H.C.Frick, locks out workers at the mill. This move to break the union sets the stage for a confrontation that makes headlines around the world. The story of the 1892 Homestead Strike is told primarily from the points of view of two characters living in Homestead. Disowned by his minister father, university student Emlyn Phillips has forsaken the bleak coalfields of South Wales to make a fresh start. Aided by his brother-in-law, Gwyn Jones, Emlyn finds work as a laborer at Open Hearth #2 in the Homestead Works. As Emlyn struggles to find a niche in the New World, he must wrestle with the demons that drove him from the Old. Homestead doctor William Oesterling tries to negotiate the conflicts between his Sarah, an elementary school teacher, and Carrie, the wife of an attorney for H.C. Frick of Carnegie Steel. These characters, their families, and all the residents of Homestead are forever transformed by a defining moment in American the battle between workers and company-hired Pinkertons on July 6, 1892.
520 pages, Paperback
First published March 11, 2012
123 people want to read
About the author
Trilby Busch
2 books18 followersTrilby Busch was born and raised in the Steel Valley of Homestead, Pennsylvania. Her paternal great-grandfather was killed in the Homestead Works in the immediate aftermath of the 1892 strike. She served on the Board of Contributors to the Opinion Page of the Minneapolis Star, writing about historical preservation and folklore. A longtime resident of Minneapolis, she is retired from teaching college composition and literature.
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Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews
June 25, 2012
This book took me back, not only to the Homestead Strike that it is ostensibly about, but to the first time I read George Eliot. Granted, it takes place a continent away and a few generations removed from Eliot's pastoral England, but the humanism and social justice is there.
If you don't know anything about the Homestead Strike or didn't bother to click my thoughtful link up there, let me assure you that it was ugly. People died. Union workers as well as those hired by business interests to fight them and those hired to displace them. Why? Well, I'm just painting in broad strokes here but I'd say germinating corporatism and economic expansion aside, so the rich could get richer. But don't let my lefty leanings discourage you -- this book isn't a polemic. In fact, it's a fictionalized account of a young Welshman that loses his religion, moves to America, slowly learns to meet his religion halfway, finds love, and meanwhile gets caught up in the aforementioned strike. It's artfully done and you'll come out the wiser for it. History is best acquired through historical fiction, methinks. You might think yourself sufficiently acquainted with the Homestead Strike after reading about it on Wikipedia or even after reading this paltry review, but when you get caught up in the day-to-day struggles of history's everyman and woman, you share his and her victories and defeats. This book chronicles one of those defeats, but without being pessimistic.
If you don't know anything about the Homestead Strike or didn't bother to click my thoughtful link up there, let me assure you that it was ugly. People died. Union workers as well as those hired by business interests to fight them and those hired to displace them. Why? Well, I'm just painting in broad strokes here but I'd say germinating corporatism and economic expansion aside, so the rich could get richer. But don't let my lefty leanings discourage you -- this book isn't a polemic. In fact, it's a fictionalized account of a young Welshman that loses his religion, moves to America, slowly learns to meet his religion halfway, finds love, and meanwhile gets caught up in the aforementioned strike. It's artfully done and you'll come out the wiser for it. History is best acquired through historical fiction, methinks. You might think yourself sufficiently acquainted with the Homestead Strike after reading about it on Wikipedia or even after reading this paltry review, but when you get caught up in the day-to-day struggles of history's everyman and woman, you share his and her victories and defeats. This book chronicles one of those defeats, but without being pessimistic.
July 29, 2012
This was a slow burn, explosion, and slow burn again. As you can see from the book summary, it tells the story of the Homestead Strike against Carnegie Steel and the apocalypse that followed. My high school American history teacher did his master’s thesis on the depression of 1893, so we all heard about it every once in a while, and I was not surprised about the bleak conditions in this story. At the same time, it really explored the cracks and details of the nightmare of life after the Industrial Revolution had dug its roots into the backs of the poor of the world.
I am not a girl who loves historical fiction, to be honest, and some of the dialogue, like with any historical fiction, threw me off in this one. I’m going to get out my historical fiction critique early, and then tell you later why I did really like the story. In here, for example, Thomas had a lot of “Golly gee, Mom! Do I hafta?” type of dialogue – a Leave it to Beaver or Brady Bunch sort of feeling – that I questioned as to its accuracy to the period. The only thing I can think of to compare it to is Dickens, and I feel like his urchins always speak very properly, like small adults, or they do not speak at all. It was my impression that was the norm for children in the late part of the nineteenth century, but I could easily be wrong. And, honestly, I don’t even really care, but I just wonder about it while I’m reading. Part of the point is that I don’t just let myself go with this genre, but I’m constantly wondering about accuracy. If something obviously plays fast and loose with accuracy, I’m fine, and I can let it go, but if it aims for accuracy, I get all distracted.
Still on the dialogue, in this book, and this is true for any historical fiction I have ever read, there was a lot of information to get across about the time period, and often people did it in dialogue. I always wonder about this because it assumes on some level that the characters within the story are as ignorant of the time period, or some aspect of the time period, as I am. For example, I feel like there is often something like, “That reminds me about how in France this year the most successful crop was the turnip, they made a lot of revenue from imports of spices, and there was an internal political struggle about whether men should wear leggings.” And, I’m always sitting here, whispering to other characters, “Weren’t we talking about what to have for dinner? Does this guy sound as douchey to you as he does to me?” But, no one in historical fiction thinks that guy is douchey. They’re all like, “Oh, that was very informative! I was not aware of that.” So I am alone in my distraction. And I get why that happens and that it seems like often part of the point of historical fiction, and what people like about it. You either have a character pass on info through dialogue, or you have a long exposition on the history from the narrator. I can see moving it to dialogue because otherwise it's more similar to reading historical non-fiction. It’s just my own personal hang up and preference for reading history in the form of non-fiction, I think.
So, that is my general struggle with historical fiction, and this was no exception, but this was still a lovely story. I thought the way the battle played out, where really it was the poor on both sides of the battle being manipulated by the rich, was really, really beautiful. And, oh man, I love Eirwen and Gwyn’s family a lot. And their relationship was really vivid. They totally crushed me. Also, . Particularly once this story got to the battle, I was so there with it. It was great.
Ugh, and OMG, Carrie made me so mad!
This was one of those experiences for me where there was a certain part, maybe between 20-30% and 50% on my Kindle, where I felt like a lot of the fat could be trimmed, especially from Emlyn’s angst about the ministry – like, we get it kid: you don’t want to be a preacher. Solution: just don’t preach, but you don’t have to yell at everybody about it! Flashbacks of the fifth Harry Potter book. But, then, at the end, I kind of wondered if most of that wasn’t useful. It ultimately seemed like it made the slow, crushing burn at the end more valuable. In retrospect, I think I like the angst.
Favorite parts: the horses, the battle (particularly the discussion about wealth and defense of property), and Emlyn’s dreams.
I was going to talk for a little while about how the second half of this book is such a beautiful illustration of why calculation of wealth needs to be based on more than just money, but also things like health, environment, and education. I guess I’ll just leave it at that, though. This is why calculation of wealth needs to change.
Particularly if you don’t have my distractions about historical fiction, this is a really great read. I totally cried, and I am maybe a medium-frequency crier.
___________________
This book was provided to me by the publisher. Ceridwen’s mom wrote it, and both Ceridwen and her mom are rad ladies. I tried to keep my head on my shoulders while I wrote this, but, you know, I imagine I am probably both too harsh and not harsh enough because of my personal affection for these folks. SIGH! So, I'm sorry for my unreliability all around!
I am not a girl who loves historical fiction, to be honest, and some of the dialogue, like with any historical fiction, threw me off in this one. I’m going to get out my historical fiction critique early, and then tell you later why I did really like the story. In here, for example, Thomas had a lot of “Golly gee, Mom! Do I hafta?” type of dialogue – a Leave it to Beaver or Brady Bunch sort of feeling – that I questioned as to its accuracy to the period. The only thing I can think of to compare it to is Dickens, and I feel like his urchins always speak very properly, like small adults, or they do not speak at all. It was my impression that was the norm for children in the late part of the nineteenth century, but I could easily be wrong. And, honestly, I don’t even really care, but I just wonder about it while I’m reading. Part of the point is that I don’t just let myself go with this genre, but I’m constantly wondering about accuracy. If something obviously plays fast and loose with accuracy, I’m fine, and I can let it go, but if it aims for accuracy, I get all distracted.
Still on the dialogue, in this book, and this is true for any historical fiction I have ever read, there was a lot of information to get across about the time period, and often people did it in dialogue. I always wonder about this because it assumes on some level that the characters within the story are as ignorant of the time period, or some aspect of the time period, as I am. For example, I feel like there is often something like, “That reminds me about how in France this year the most successful crop was the turnip, they made a lot of revenue from imports of spices, and there was an internal political struggle about whether men should wear leggings.” And, I’m always sitting here, whispering to other characters, “Weren’t we talking about what to have for dinner? Does this guy sound as douchey to you as he does to me?” But, no one in historical fiction thinks that guy is douchey. They’re all like, “Oh, that was very informative! I was not aware of that.” So I am alone in my distraction. And I get why that happens and that it seems like often part of the point of historical fiction, and what people like about it. You either have a character pass on info through dialogue, or you have a long exposition on the history from the narrator. I can see moving it to dialogue because otherwise it's more similar to reading historical non-fiction. It’s just my own personal hang up and preference for reading history in the form of non-fiction, I think.
So, that is my general struggle with historical fiction, and this was no exception, but this was still a lovely story. I thought the way the battle played out, where really it was the poor on both sides of the battle being manipulated by the rich, was really, really beautiful. And, oh man, I love Eirwen and Gwyn’s family a lot. And their relationship was really vivid. They totally crushed me. Also, . Particularly once this story got to the battle, I was so there with it. It was great.
Ugh, and OMG, Carrie made me so mad!
This was one of those experiences for me where there was a certain part, maybe between 20-30% and 50% on my Kindle, where I felt like a lot of the fat could be trimmed, especially from Emlyn’s angst about the ministry – like, we get it kid: you don’t want to be a preacher. Solution: just don’t preach, but you don’t have to yell at everybody about it! Flashbacks of the fifth Harry Potter book. But, then, at the end, I kind of wondered if most of that wasn’t useful. It ultimately seemed like it made the slow, crushing burn at the end more valuable. In retrospect, I think I like the angst.
Favorite parts: the horses, the battle (particularly the discussion about wealth and defense of property), and Emlyn’s dreams.
I was going to talk for a little while about how the second half of this book is such a beautiful illustration of why calculation of wealth needs to be based on more than just money, but also things like health, environment, and education. I guess I’ll just leave it at that, though. This is why calculation of wealth needs to change.
Particularly if you don’t have my distractions about historical fiction, this is a really great read. I totally cried, and I am maybe a medium-frequency crier.
___________________
This book was provided to me by the publisher. Ceridwen’s mom wrote it, and both Ceridwen and her mom are rad ladies. I tried to keep my head on my shoulders while I wrote this, but, you know, I imagine I am probably both too harsh and not harsh enough because of my personal affection for these folks. SIGH! So, I'm sorry for my unreliability all around!
March 19, 2012
Excellent novel about a big 1892 strike in the Homestead, PA steelworks, owned by Carnegie and run by Frick. The author's great-grandfather and great-great-grandfather (I hope I'm getting the right number of 'greats') appear as minor characters in the novel and their experiences, handed down by her family, are what led to her interest in these important events. Perhaps this route to the material accounts for one of the novel's most striking and successful features, the palpable sense it gives of the character of life at the time for the, mostly working, people it is about. Their life is certainly very hard, grueling in fact, but it falls a little short of the squalor portrayed in Sinclair's The Jungle. I don't know if this is owing to the difference in the respective authors' temperaments or to real differences in the conditions of the people involved.
Nor does the author attend only to the material details of the characters' lives. We get a good sense of their access to culture,religion, and politics too.
Besides its detailed attention to the fabric of ordinary life, the other great strength of the novel is its well-constructed plot, spooled out in a controlled and assured manner, with just enough twists and turns, side plots, secondary characters, etc.
There is a difficult knot at the heart of the book which the author, I think, does not attempt to untie - perhaps wisely. When Frick sends several hundred Pinkertons to try and break the strike, they meet with a reception of breathtaking savagery at the hands of the strikers and their families. I think anyone reading the book will be troubled by this, as was, we learn in an afterword, the author herself. She reports a conversation with her mother in which the latter explains that the strikers "were fighting for their lives." In some sense, clearly, they were. And yet... it is hard to stomach, or to understand. And this bewilderment is increased by the fact that the author portrays several of the Pinkertons in a sympathetic light. Many of the hundreds were simply poor folk themselves, recruited for a job the nature of which was not explained to them, and thrust into a situation from which there was, literally, no turning back.
Nor does the author attend only to the material details of the characters' lives. We get a good sense of their access to culture,religion, and politics too.
Besides its detailed attention to the fabric of ordinary life, the other great strength of the novel is its well-constructed plot, spooled out in a controlled and assured manner, with just enough twists and turns, side plots, secondary characters, etc.
There is a difficult knot at the heart of the book which the author, I think, does not attempt to untie - perhaps wisely. When Frick sends several hundred Pinkertons to try and break the strike, they meet with a reception of breathtaking savagery at the hands of the strikers and their families. I think anyone reading the book will be troubled by this, as was, we learn in an afterword, the author herself. She reports a conversation with her mother in which the latter explains that the strikers "were fighting for their lives." In some sense, clearly, they were. And yet... it is hard to stomach, or to understand. And this bewilderment is increased by the fact that the author portrays several of the Pinkertons in a sympathetic light. Many of the hundreds were simply poor folk themselves, recruited for a job the nature of which was not explained to them, and thrust into a situation from which there was, literally, no turning back.
May 17, 2012
A compelling fictionalized story of a sad (true) event in American labor history, and a believable look at several aspects of the immigrant experience. Because the author takes us into the minds of people connected with different factions of the Homestead Strike, it took some time for me to get my bearings, and at the end I was sorry not to learn more about some minor characters I had become interested in. (The compensation, however, was a section at the back that indicated what happened to the real people mentioned in the book -- including some surprises.) I appreciated having the snippets of Welsh language (with translations).
The book slowly drew me in, as I learned about the characters and the town dominated by its steel mill. As the time of crisis arrived, I was unable to put the book down, eager to know what would happen -- but with a sorrowful awareness that, although these were fictional people I had come to care about, these events had happened to real people who had lived through (or not) the violence. Along with being a look at history, it's a love story. It's also a tale of personal growth, family bonds, and moral choices.
The book slowly drew me in, as I learned about the characters and the town dominated by its steel mill. As the time of crisis arrived, I was unable to put the book down, eager to know what would happen -- but with a sorrowful awareness that, although these were fictional people I had come to care about, these events had happened to real people who had lived through (or not) the violence. Along with being a look at history, it's a love story. It's also a tale of personal growth, family bonds, and moral choices.
January 2, 2013
I truly enjoyed this book about the Homestead Strike in 1892. The novel was character-driven which can sometimes be missing in novels based on real life events, which can tend towards being rather too informative. I'll admit, when I first picked it up I was skeptical at its ability to hold my interest but it drew me in and I couldn't stop reading (supper was late, housework not done!). I was surprised where the story ended, but also thankful. While some story lines aren't fully closed, that is what life is all about and I appreciated not having a sloppy ending.
* I received this book for free from Goodreads First Reads.
* I received this book for free from Goodreads First Reads.
August 22, 2013
I won a copy of this book from the author from the Goodreads First Reads program. As an avid reader of historical fiction, I really enjoyed this novel about Emlyn Phillips, a Welsh immigrant to the town of Homestead in Pennsylvania, because, unlike a lot of historical fiction, this was a novel not about aristocracy, but about everyday people. Busch researched her family background for the premise of this novel - the story of families in Homestead leading up to and beyond the Homestead strike of 1892. As well as presenting a fictionalized account of a slice of US history, this novel was well written and the characters real and believable.
Displaying 1 - 6 of 6 reviews