Leffland is a highly regarded novelist of slender output -- five novels in thirty years, and nothing at all in more than a decade. This one, her third, has recently been republished (and marketed as a “classic”), but I discoverd it when it first appeared and I remember enjoying it very much, so when I came across a mention of he book in another review, I decided it was time for a re-read.
It’s late 1941 and Suse Hansen is just about to turn eleven when the Japanese attack Pearl Harbor. The child of Danish immigrants, she lives in a small industrial town on the east side of San Francisco Bay (as did the author), so fears of bombing or an invasion are very real, and Suse, not surprisingly, becomes terrified by the possibility. Her fear leads her to develop a reflexive hatred for all things Japanese; the Nisei of northern California should all be rounded up and shot, as far as she’s concerned. But life goes on, the invasion doesn’t come, her older sister is getting ready to go off to an art institute in San Francisco, and her older brother is working in a shoe store while playing drums and thinking about becoming an architect, and Suse gradually slides back into her routines -- but, being a literalist for whom everything is black-and-white, she doesn’t abandon her newly acquired hatred.
She meets a private school rejectee named Peggy and they soon become best friends. And Peggy has a slightly older sister named Helen Maria who is something of a genius, being already a student at Berkeley, fluent in several languages, and intent on pursuing her studies at Oxford. As the war progresses, so does Suse, more or less. She’s not at all stupid -- her favorite book is Madame Bovary -- but she gets terrible grades in school because she doesn’t care; all her best friends are in the “dumbbell class.” By modern standards, she’s an extremely late bloomer physically, but when sexual feelings begin to appear, in the form of a series of crushes on male teachers, she deals with it all in a logical and systematic way. And she gradually becomes less close to Peggy, who has strong social ambitions, and more so to Helen Maria, who encourages her to study and to think. And then, on a visit to Berkeley, she meets Helen Maria’s semi-boyfriend, Egon, in his mid-20s, a German Jewish refugee from Berlin, and he becomes the secret passion of her life. Even though she thinks he must be the enemy, being German, because she apparently has never heard the word “Jew” except for a vague memory from Sunday School. (Kristallnacht must have something to do with Christmas, right?)
But, while Suse regularly embarrasses herself through her sometimes appalling ignorance, she never loses her balance or her sense. And, by the end of the story, as she digests the news of Hiroshima in a very different frame of mind than when she heard about Pearl Harbor, only four years before, it’s clear she’s on her way to a very interesting adulthood.
Leffland’s narrative style is often lyrical and engaging and her grasp of the minutiae of adolescence is profound. (We all have gone through it but few writers are capable of remembering it for us so clearly.) And her treatment of her characters is first-rate. My favorite character, I think, is actually Helen Maria, who deals resourcefully with the impediments history has placed in her way as she tries to escape to England, and whose relationships with both her sister and with Suse are very convincingly depicted. I should also note that while I’m younger than Suse, I actually was born during the war, so perhaps I can relate to the thought processes and concerns of the time better than much younger readers to whom the 1940s are as foreign and ancient as the Periclean Greece that absorbs Helen Maria.
But I do have a problem with the unavoidable time scale. I simply wasn’t convinced that Suse could go off to a night-long party in a university rooming house and dance with international students and, apparently, be accepted as one of the group when she’s still only fourteen. Yes, the author was constrained by the span of the war, and the problem might have been mitigated if the protagonist had been about four years older throughout, . . . but that would have been a different story.