The End of Good Intentions

by David Borofka

“History Is a funny thing,” Michael Wayte says in The End of Good Intentions. “We don’t always know what’s significant. We hardly ever know what’s significant. What was important then might not be so now; what’s important now might not be later.” Beginning with a fire and a gruesome incident of self-sacrifice, the novel presents a Christian college in transition, from its midcentury Presbyterian origins to a more strident and politicized Evangelicalism.

Set between the mid-1970s and today, the novel moves back and forth through the turbulence of recent American history, charting the course of characters such as Michael Wayte, the pre-ministerial student who becomes the owner of a foothill bar; Leah Green, the Jewish student who finds herself a stranger in a strange Christian environment; Walter Book, the gay English professor, who doesn’t know he’s gay; and Eivar Mortenson, whose actions at the beginning of the novel become the catalyst for all that is to come.

In The End of Good Intentions, David Borofka examines the gap between desire and emptiness, conviction and extremism, those who believe absolutely in the certitude of their perspective and those who live on the outer margins of doubt and uncertainty.

391 pages, Kindle Edition

Published September 15, 2023

Reviews

[Janet Lynch · Rating 5 out of 5]

David Borofka’s funny-serious novel The End of Good Intentions is centered on the students, faculty, and affiliations of a small Christian college, nestled in the Sierra above the San Joaquin Valley. Originally, the college is named Sierra Presbyterian College, steeped in traditional dogma. Cousins Gilbert and Victor self-immolate on two of three crosses on campus, horrifying the students exiting the SPC chapel. Carl explains, “They died as evidence of their faith” since merely singing “Silent Night” is just not doing enough for the Lord. Eventually, SPC morphs into Liberty Christian College, run by white evangelicals, their team the Prospectors becoming the Patriots.

For most of Borofka’s characters, coming to Jesus derails their lives. After the 911 Attacks, Liberty Christian’s star football player, Dalvin-Demarius Phillipi Jenkins (DDP) encourages the Patriots team to spend more time in prayer meetings than practicing on the grid while DDP’s own strength dissipates in stringent fasting, which leads to the demise of his football career and the only chance of LCC reveling in a winning season. Michael’s devout girlfriend Emily is not impressed with his aspirations of becoming a minister because, she explains, “That’s just church,” not the ecstasy of speaking in tongues, the laying on of hands, the crying and sweating for Jesus. A talented harpist, Emily gives up music and drops out of school to help Latin American refugees, taking a stray bullet for Jesus in Honduras. At least one character is not having any of it. “These people are nuts,” Gil announces one morning as he makes his mother Elisa breakfast. To her bitter disappointment, Gil turns his back on his cushy full scholarship and joins the Marines, preferring to take his chances on some far-off battlefield rather than placing his education in the hands of Christian radicals, although this is not the end of Gil’s story in the novel.

Borofka is a master of the short story, illustrated by his award-winning collections, A Longing for Impossible Things (John Hopkins UP, 2022, American Book Award for the Short Story) and Hints of his Mortality (University of Iowa Press, 1996, Iowa Short Fiction Award) and numerous publications in literary journals such as Missouri Review, Southern Review, and Glimmer Train. Each of the chapters in The End of Good Intentions can stand alone as a short story, but they are also interwoven to form a cohesive whole, much like Any Tan’s The Joy Luck Club. Borofka makes dramatic use of a historical backdrop, including the Vietnam War, Watergate, the 911 Attacks, the Iraq War, the Afghanistan War, and the Trump Inauguration as the narrative deftly zigzags forward and backward in time. The author skillfully employs his setting from the majestic sequoias of King Canyon National Park to the dusty cottonfields of the valley, including well-timed, unnerving roars of the tigers at Cat Haven and the vulnerability of the area to devastating wildfire. His descriptive detail, especially of characters’ physical appearances is hilarious—“Walter’s bow tie now lay flat atop his man boobs” and Dorothy “wore sensible shoes instead of anything attractive and uncomfortable” as well as thoughtful visuals such as when Leah Green confronts her chaplain counselor—“her eyes, no longer darting this way and that, had now zeroed in on him in an expression that signaled distrust and anger, as well as an anxious optimism.” Characters behave outrageously and speak in snappy dialogue which sometimes catches a reader by surprise, barking a loud guffaw. Borofka, after all, is sardonically witty and loads of fun to read.

In all seriousness, The End of Good Intentions, reflects the times we live in when white Evangelical Christians choose a thieving, mean-spirited, ignorant insurrectionist as their preferred choice of President and one Supreme Court justice at her Congressional hearing lies about her intentions to uphold the law and instead forces American women and their bodies to bend to the regulations of her far-right crackpot brand of Christianity. Poor Jesus! Never has He been so misunderstood as in current American politics and David Borofka’s brilliant novel, The End of Good Intentions.

[A Look Inside: Reviews and Interviews · Rating 5 out of 5]

"The End of Good Intentions" by David Borofka is a thought-provoking and beautifully layered exploration of the ebb and flow of history, faith, and human connection. Borofka's narrative transcends time and space, offering readers a glimpse into the evolution of a Christian college from its midcentury Presbyterian roots to the complexities of modern Evangelicalism.

At the heart of this novel are the richly drawn characters who navigate the shifting landscapes of belief and identity. Michael Wayte's poignant reflection on the significance of history sets the stage for a narrative that skillfully weaves together multiple perspectives, spanning from the mid-1970s to the present day. Each character, from the pre-ministerial student turned bar owner to the Jewish student Leah Green, is a testament to the depth of human experience and the complexities of faith.

Walter Book's exploration of his own identity as a gay English professor adds a layer of depth and authenticity to the narrative, as the characters grapple with questions of desire, conviction, and self-discovery. Eivar Mortenson's actions at the outset of the novel serve as a catalyst for the unfolding drama, highlighting the profound impact of individual choices on the collective narrative.

Borofka's writing is both lyrical and incisive, inviting readers to contemplate the interplay between faith and doubt, certainty and uncertainty. The novel's exploration of extremism and the quest for absolute conviction resonates deeply in today's complex world.

"The End of Good Intentions" is a masterful work that encourages readers to reflect on the ever-changing nature of belief and the intricate web of human connections. David Borofka's storytelling is a testament to the enduring power of literature to illuminate the nuances of the human experience. This novel is a compelling and timely examination of the intersection between faith, history, and the enduring search for meaning in an ever-evolving world.

[James Jr. · Rating 5 out of 5]

Full disclosure: I was a student of Mr. Borofka's a very long time ago. We reconnected recently at an event and he gifted me a signed copy of his brilliant novel, The End of Good Intentions. I was tickled by this, but set the book down in my library, unsure when and if I would ever pick it up to read it. I read and write paranormal and horror mostly, and read literary fiction very rarely. Little did I know. Once I did pick it up, I found myself riveted by the quality of the work. Not since Pat Conroy have I read such prose. It was moving and witty and hilarious, and not full of itself - like some writers who seem intent on dazzling readers with their mastery of language. This just flows like water. Every drop is meant to be there. The book isn't easy to describe, but the way he wove the characters together as separate, but yet entwined was amazing. Although we do not write the same subject matter, Mr. Borofka compels me to want to write better. It turns out he's still teaching me a thing or two.