The third book in Jane Smiley’s one hundred year trilogy takes the reader from 1987 to 2018, again a chapter devoted to each year, unpacking the lives of the Langdon family, now into the fifth generation. With the exception of Jesse and Jen Langdon, the remaining family members have flung themselves far away from the farm in Denby, Iowa, light years away from weather worries, the cost of endless repairs, the price of seed and fertilizer, and the relentless, back-breaking work.
The Langdon family requires two pages in the front of the book to illustrate the family tree. I thought I would have difficulty remembering the names and connections from the first two books, but Smiley’s description is so vivid, I was able to place them for the most part and follow them through the years.
When one considers the events reflected in this part of the trilogy, the years since 1987: GMO’s, Iran, Afghanistan, Bush, Cheney, Halliburton, 9/11, the Wall Street bailout, global warming just for a few, significant skepticism about these years being our “golden age” is inevitable. So many secrets and so many lies haunted our national leaders during this time as well as the Langdons. “And it wasn’t just because secrets led to lies and lies led to chaos; it was because secrets led to the assumption, on the part of those not in on the secrets, that there were many more secrets than there really were.” Some believed some things really needed to remain a secret despite the harm caused.
One might continue to believe this when considering the heinous behavior of some of the characters. Michael Langdon, amoral in my opinion, the bond trader who steals from his own mother, whose investment company takes the family farm away from his cousin based on an ancient resentment, whose offshore accounts are safe long after his arrest in 2008 for his shady dealings, whose “small cruelties” over his lifetime define him as criminal. His twin brother, Richie, a New York Congressman who loses his position based on his relationship with his brother, questions, “Did he feel regret or shame? Richie had no idea. He himself alternated, understanding that regret was a desire to have lived your life differently, whereas shame was a much more basic, and honorable, emotion.”
Then there are those family members who seem stuck, damaged by their childhoods, the lack of nurturing, blaming others for lost opportunities, misperceiving family relationships and sometimes, reality. Despite their whining and pettiness, they are still trying to live intentionally, carve out a life.
But then, in an extended family this large, living all over the Unites States, seeking non-farm experiences, there are many wonderful, complicated and unique characters, taking care of one another, growing older and old together, holding this proud family together. “What was it like for the firstborn or the second? Claire could not imagine. But for the fifth and last, it was like walking onto a stage where the lights were up and the play was beginning the third act, gloriously permanent, soon to close, but always a lost world…maybe for entirely coincidental socioeconomic reasons, people these days didn’t have those Greek choruses of relatives, freely offering their opinions about everything that happened.”
Henry, the academic, a good and honorable man, researching topics few might care about in the 21st century, develops a unique relationship with Charlie, the son of his nephew, Tim, killed in the Viet Nam War, a son about whom no one knew until he was almost an adult. He tutors Charlie, serves as a compass to his unfocused life and later becomes a surrogate parent to his daughter, Alexis. “If your life remained in your mind, complex and busy, full of what you had read as well as what you had done and whom you had met, you could carry it into the future, and it would all, somehow, flow together.”
In 2006, Guthrie, a nephew who understands there is no life for him on his father’s farm, joins the military and is deployed twice. He soberly summarizes the difference between WWII and the Iraq War as armies going after other armies vs. subduing the population. Further, he takes the time to know the difference between Shia Muslims and Sunni Muslims. “He kept to himself the thought that farm families in Iowa would understand the bitterness of this antagonism over issues of inheritance perfectly well; you said it was about principles, but really it was about loyalties and property.” Interesting insight, one of many of Smiley’s quiet, thoughtful perspectives on our history imbedded in the novel.
I admired so many of the Langdons, silently cheered for the younger ones charting new territory and trying new careers, smiled at unexpected happiness for older family members, mourned for their heartbreaking losses. I carefully tracked the ages of those whom I liked best as the novel progressed, pleased they were flourishing in their 60’s and 70’s and 80’s and Andy, at almost 100. The wisdom of a few who lived long lives, survived the judgment or lack of understanding of others, and comforted by a lifetime of memories known only to them, resonated with me, helping me to understand the peace of some of the elderly people in my own life. Andy, the widow of WW II war-time hero, Frank, comments, “I always thought my dear friend Arthur’s great tragedy was that he knew what love was better than anyone else in the world, and he could feel it wavering and swelling or dissipating and flowing away as no one else could. It was a terrible burden for him…but we all slipped away from him, because that’s what life really is.”
Toward the very end of the book, one character asks of another, “Do you think that we’ve lived through a golden age?” She thinks, “A golden age, though…in comparison with what’s to come. Golden ages are always in the past…No one would ever know that her father, Carl, the endless Iowa horizon, a pan of shortbread emerging from the oven, and her grandchildren laughing in the next room had indeed made her life a golden age.” And that, in the end, is what Jane Smiley convinced me of in this wonderful saga. We are indeed better than some of the darkest moments in our recent history, better than the reprehensible behaviors depicted in this novel, filled more with good and decent people who choose to live a meaningful, honorable life whatever the obstacles.