I had been waiting eagerly for Leslie Leyland Fields' new memoir to appear. Her previous Alaskan and Christian memoir left me breathless, Surviving the Island of Grace. What new and masterful merging of her life's stories and her Christian wisdom would come from her pen? So that's the background.
Four days ago, I tore open the Amazon envelope and there was Crossing the Waters. My next two days did not belong to me. Fields held me in her grip while I streaked through her book, eagerly rejoicing, eagerly pressing on for more.
Fields uses her honestly, her forthrightness, her vulnerability, her faith, her doubt, her practicality, her bravery, her anger and her succinctness--all of which are innate to her and perhaps, at least in potential, to all of us--as the emotional foundation of her story. On this foundation, she builds her story. Her two stories, really.
One is her own story of the high and the low of everyday events during a single season of salmon fishing with her husband, children, and helpers. Her other story is of her sojourn around the shores of the Sea of Galilee, talking fishing with modern Peters and Andrews and Johns--and talking Jesus with them, too, who are Jews. An Alaskan caster of nets in 2016, Fields sails with the Israeli casters of nets and experiences a storm with them, too. She brings the earlier prototypes of those same fishermen, from 2,000 years ago, to us in her story, and she enlivens them as she does so. She humanizes them, right through from the moment they are called upon to drop their nets and to follow. She shows us their doubts and their angers, and then their joys, right up until the end.
Fields' two stories twist together on the page, like the strands of a net. It is I who am caught in Fields' net--in Fields' story's net, woven of words. Other readers may experience the same thing; I think it would be hard to read Crossing the Waters and avoid being caught in Fields' net.
This is so because Fields is not only a writer who possesses exciting skill, she is a skillful writer who possesses a poet's heart. There is a poetic and confessional cadence in the book, which brings the reader, step by step, onward and upward, through Fields' doubts about Jesus, through the apostles' doubts about Jesus, through the reader's own doubts about Jesus (at least mine), all the way to her final two pages--which are triumphant. And then--like any human still asking why despite triumph--her words come down from triumph and are real.