This book could have been so much more!
Beginning in the 1770s as the wild and untamed territory of Louisiana is being settled by planters who were given massive land grants by King George III, this 1937 novel by Gwen Bristow is the story of Philip and Judith Larne. They begin their married life in a hovel of a shack but soon live in a large, 16-room house constructed of moss and clay on a 3,000-acre plantation indigo, tobacco, sugar cane, and cotton are cultivated. Of course, the plantation's crops only succeed financially because of the extensive slave labor. In addition to the Larnes and their four children, the story focuses on Judith's father and brother and the brother's extremely colorful Cuban-born wife, as well as old family friends who own a nearby plantation.
This is meant to be a sweeping historical and family saga, which continues in two more books, but it is more a soap opera of family crises that could happen in any time period, almost all of which the astute reader can see coming a mile away.
The greatest difficulty I had with this book is the dialogue. Most of it is so implausible that it's laughable. This is a direct result of extremely limited character development. The characters are, for the most part, one-dimensional. Once a personality is portrayed in a certain way, it stays that way; we don't see growth or change in the characters based on what happens to them in this life.
The portrayal of the slaves, including how they were treated and their living and working conditions, is completely glossed over. Most offensive of all, the author is astoundingly tone deaf to what their lives were really like. For example, when Philip Larne impregnates a slave, his wife Judith is incensed at not only Philip's infidelity, but also at the slave's betrayal of her mistress. As if the slave had a choice in the matter! The characters call the slaves everything from the "n word" to "servants." (Servants…really?) This is a historical novel, and Gwen Bristow has failed at a deep and disturbing level writing about these enslaved men, women, and children. That said, it was published in 1937 so the fault may lie in the way this horrific part of our history tended to be sugar-coated then, especially by Southern writers.
The story itself is fairly engaging—think historical ChickLit—but it could have been so much more.
I was extremely disappointed in the book. Based on other readers very high ratings, I expected more.