The Awakening Land trilogy traces the transformation of a middle-American landscape from wilderness to farmland to the site of modern industrial civilization, all in the lifetime of one character. The trilogy earned author Conrad Richter immense acclaim, ranking him with the greatest of American mid-century novelists. It includes The Trees (1940), The Fields (1946), and The Town (1950) and follows the varied fortunes of Sayward Luckett and her family in southeastern Ohio.
The Town, the longest novel of the trilogy, won the 1951 Pulitzer Prize and received excellent reviews across the country. It tells how Sayward completes her mission and lives to see the transition of her family and her friends, American pioneers, from the ways of wilderness to the ways of civilization. Here is the tumultuous story of how the Lucketts grow to face the turmoil of the first half of the 19th century. The Town is a much bigger book than either of its predecessors, and with them comprises a great American epic.
Conrad Michael Richter (October 13, 1890 – October 30, 1968) was an American novelist whose lyrical work is concerned largely with life on the American frontier in various periods. His novel The Town (1950), the last story of his trilogy The Awakening Land about the Ohio frontier, won the 1951 Pulitzer Prize for Fiction.[1] His novel The Waters of Kronos won the 1961 National Book Award for Fiction.[2] Two collections of short stories were published posthumously during the 20th century, and several of his novels have been reissued during the 21st century by academic presses. (wikipedia.org)
The Awakening Land: The Trees, The Fields, & The Town trilogy ends with the Pulitzer Prize winning The Town. We see the culmination of Sayward Wheeler’s life story and the further building up of the place she came to as a child and a pioneer from the east. Her story and those of her family members continues in a very complex and widely character-filled story. The first two novels, The Trees and The Fields, focus on the fortitude required by those early pioneers who sought new places and the hardships that went with starting from nothing. These novels set the stage for the progression of the settlements to become a full-fledged incorporated town in Ohio.
Aging Sayward has had 10 children, 9 living, and we get to know her brood very well in this installment. The youngest, Chancey, plays a prominent role and much of the story is seen from his viewpoint. I wouldn’t consider him a very trustworthy character and one that I grew more and more dislike toward by the end of the novel. Sayward wonders how she could raise a child so different than her others, but he was coddled and not made to do the things the others did because of a childhood illness that could have taken his life. Aside from that, Chancey believed he was an “other” and not really a part of the Wheeler family. He also grew up when the Wheeler’s were coming into prominence in the town of Americus and only ever heard stories of his family’s pioneering heritage. He seems to resent this heritage and not place it as high in importance as his mother does. He becomes such an arrogant and spoiled adult who can’t see his hand before his face.
He makes a connection with another child, Rosa Tench, who has not grown up in a privileged way as he has. Rosa’s background is the instigator for the conflict that occurs in the story. Sadly, she and Chancey are unaware why they shouldn’t be connected, although everyone in the town knows what happened in the past.
With the changes and progress coming and the growth of houses, stores, schools, businesses, courthouses, railroads, etc. one of the themes that stands out to me is valuing hard, rugged work versus valuing a life of convenience and ease. Our protagonist, Sayward, would tell you that without hard work their town would never have been brought forth. And then further argue that if you take hard work away and leave nothing for the coming generations to toil at, their life will be nothing worthwhile. These arguments between mother and son symbolize the complications the pioneers experienced as the society grew more urban and civilized.
What was the world coming to and what hearty pleasures folks today missed out of life! One bag of meal her pap said, used to make a whole family rejoice. Now folks came ungrateful from the store, grumbling they had to carry such a heavy market basket. Was that the way this great new country of hers was going to go?… Well, her pap’s generation could get down on their knees and thank the Almighty they lived and died when they did. How would they ever have come and settled this wild country if they said to each other, “Ain’t you afeard?” How would her pappy have fetched them the long was out here on foot if he’d kept asking all the time, “Are ye all right! How do ye feel? Do ye reckon ye kin make it?” No, those old time folks she knew were scared of nothing, or if they were, they didn’t say so. They knew they ran bad risks moving into Indian country, but they had to die some time. They might as well live as they pleased and let others bury them when the time came. Now Libby’s generation, it seemed, lived mostly to study and fret about ailing and dying.
In the end, I found joy in Sayward’s legacy as she remembered the old times and people and that she brought some tree saplings to her yard in an effort to honor what she once despised and destroyed and now was able to find value in. Isn’t that so true about life. We toil and work hard, raise our kids, advance in our jobs and make our mark on our communities and when it comes to the realization that it is coming to an end, we look back at what made us happiest and never believing that you could be the last of your generation. I absolutely loved this trilogy and this last installment took the story to a different and more complex level but it was so very satisfying to finally get closure on this great pioneering family. I highly recommend this to anyone who loves reading about the settling of America and the pioneers who took the risk.
In her time she had looked forward to a good many things that came to pass, but never had she looked forward to outlasting her time … when you’re the last of your generation, then you can drink a draft of loneliness you never drank before.
Conrad Richter’s final book in the trilogy, The Awakening Land: The Trees, The Fields, & The Town, The Town won the 1951 Pulitzer, which no doubt springs from the fact that the first two laid such a perfect foundation for this one. What surprised me the most about this book was that we are introduced to a new character in Sayward’s youngest son, Chancey, and that so many of the revelations we have come from his point of view.
If find in him a very flawed and unreliable character, most of his thoughts and conclusions are based on too little information or ridiculously muddled thinking, and he lacks the strength of character to seek or accept the truth. But, he serves as a great vehicle to move this story forward and provide us insights into the others, particularly Portius and Sayward themselves. He is also the perfect illustration of how little the second generation appreciates the work of the first. Chancey seems to think progress and ease sprang from the earth, full-blown, and would have done so without the labors of people like Worth and Sayward who cleared the ground, planted the fields, and built the civilization others moved into.
I think this might be a universal truth. I find it in the youth of today, who throw that “Hey, Boomer” phrase around without considering that without “boomers” there would have been no interstate highway system, no Environmental Protection Agency, no space race (which gave us many of our modern conveniences), nor technology (since computers and cell phones came from the minds of “boomers”). I’m thinking my mother could have made the same kind of observations about the boomer generation not appreciating what the World War II generation handed them. But, I digress.
I found these books to be worthwhile reading, and really enjoyed the way Richter showed the development of a wilderness into a booming town, with the trappings that come along with that, including government control, rule of law, abuse of power, and deepening class distinction. There was a kind of freedom that came with the difficult and isolated pioneer life that is lost when civilization comes to call. One of the characters expressed this well,
“It hadn’t been enough for them that somewhere inside of her the dark eggs of some obscure taint had been laid to spoil and set her apart from the rest. Now they had to brand her flesh, tell her what she must do and mustn’t, and where she must never walk or pay the penalty.”
The character who says this is Rosa, and her story is one of the most interesting threads that runs through this novel. There is nothing perfect about people, and nothing perfect about the societies they establish. Unfair and hard are two things that persist, no matter how much mankind might dream of Utopia.
I needed this novel for my Pulitzer prize challenge, but I’m very glad to have made the decision to read the entire trilogy. The Pulitzer challenge is going much more slowly than I had anticipated, but always good to strike one more great novel off the list.
"The Town" is the third book of "The Awakening Land" trilogy about the growth of a small town in the Ohio frontier. Set in the 19th Century before the Civil War, this book won the Pulitzer Prize in 1951. "The Town" is a continuation of the life of Sayward, her lawyer husband Portius Wheeler, and their large family.
The town is changing with new businesses, more industry, a courthouse, a bridge, and a canal. Sayward becomes relatively wealthy as she sells off building lots of her land to new residents. Portius wants to move out of their log house into a new brick home which better reflects his importance as a judge and a civic leader. Once Sayward is residing in the new house, she feels nostalgic for the old way of life. Hard work and self-reliance were necessary attributes for the pioneers, and she sees a loss of those qualities even while life is getting easier for the next generation. Planting trees around the new home brought back memories of her childhood when the area was completely forested.
Much of the book focuses on Chancey, their youngest son. Chancey has been spoiled as a youngster due to his weak heart, and developed a self-centered fantasy world. His mother has to toughen him up with chores and walking, but he continues to resist. Chancy falls for a girl, Rosa, but the relationship is forbidden due to some past history known around the town. As he grows older, Chancey becomes more estranged from his family. He becomes a journalist, and develops values which clash with his mother's viewpoints.
As Sayward reaches her final years, it becomes more and more obvious how helpful she has been to various townspeople, escaped slaves, and her own family members with many good deeds done in secret. Sayward has retained her practical, "salt of the earth" qualities all her life. I enjoyed all three books of the trilogy, and would recommend reading them in order since they build upon each other.
A surprisingly deep and captivating story about pioneer life in early Ohio. This is the finale of the trilogy but I don’t think one needs to read the first two novels to enjoy. Although it won the 1951 Pulitzer prize I was still a bit skeptical that it was deserving of such high praise. It has an intentionally folksy feel. But the character development is really superb and a lot of drama transpires in the 300 pages.
Richter’s hyper-realism reminds me a little of the novel ‘Stoner’ but despite a few tragedies The Town is more uplifting.
A literary feast! My five stars is less for the THE TOWN (1950) alone and more for its being the culmination of THE AWAKENING LAND trilogy that included THE TREES (1940) and THE FIELDS (1946). (The three books came out separately before being joined in one volume initially during the 1960s.)
** I would not recommend reading THE TOWN without reading THE TREES and THE FIELDS first. Together they offer an astonishingly satisfying novel of the late 1700s and early 1800s in the pioneering world of the Old Northwest Territory (Ohio River country).
Readers follow the life of the unforgettably hardy fictional female Sayward Luckett from her childhood encounter with the densely forested Ohio River frontier (in TREES) to her early adulthood (in THE FIELDS) to her later life and the lives of her children in THE TOWN.
Conrad Richter received the PULITZER award in 1951 for this chronicle of ordinary pioneers and their far from ordinary lives. He researched the geography, history, folklore and language of the pioneering frontier of the newly formed American nation and transformed that research into a novel. I most admire the author's ability to inhabit the inner lives of the characters and to give their stories an authentic feel using language and dialog that emerge from a linguistic world now past.
The Town is the third installment of the The Awakening Land trilogy by Conrad Richter first published in 1950. In the first book of the trilogy, The Trees, we were introduced to the first white pioneer family to enter a wooded region that would later become part of Ohio. In the second book, The Fields, the story of the early married life of the eldest daughter is told as the family grows and the land is cleared. This third book continues to follow the life of this woman as she ages, her family moves away, and the land where she first settled grows into a bustling town.
By the time the book's end is reached the reader has been on intimate terms with this woman for about eighty years and can't help but feel with her a sense of nostalgia remembering the lifetime of hard work and many changes to the land where she first settled. Ironically, during the first half of her life she and her family worked hard to clear the trees away. Now in the twilight years of her life she is mourning the loss of the huge old trees. Her family and neighbors think she's crazy for beginning to plant new trees.
The book's protagonist spends time remembering how hard life was when she was young and thinks how spoiled this new generation is with their life being so easy. Growing old seems to place a shroud of virtue on distantly remembered years of youth. One wonders how the memories of the Shawnee, Delaware, and Wyandotte compare, for they were the people forced to leave their ancestral lands by these white settlers. And indeed the book's narrative gives us a glimpse into this question by allowing a long lost member of the family who has lived her life with the Indians to express her side of the story.
A significant portion of the book's narrative tells of a loving relationship that develops between the younger son of the family and a neighborhood girl. Legally they are unrelated. However the whole community knows that they are actually half-brother and sister. They are portrayed as fragile souls who find comfort and reassurance in their mutual love. When given strict orders to separate from both families the boy is able to lose himself in his work for the newspaper, but the poor young girl is inconsolable. This sad story combined with the overarching sense of nostalgia developed by the rest of the book makes this a melancholy reading experience.
The Town was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 1951.
Reading the 'Awakening Land' trilogy was a lesson in respect for me. When I began reading Richter's trilogy, I entered it with a level of skepticism. After all, the first installment was published eighty years ago; surely American literature has evolved to the point that a frontier novel from the forties and fifties would seem outmoded. But after reading the 'Awakening Land' trilogy, I realize that's like trying to argue that 'Moby Dick' is outdated simply because it is creeping up on 200 years of age. To be clear, I am not comparing this to Melville's masterpiece. As good as Richter's work is, it does not compare to the white whale. What I am saying, however, is that I am guilty of assumption. Assumption that a novel based on 18th century frontier life could never really be a special reading experience. An assumption that frontier life was a tired genre that had nothing left to offer the modern reader. Richter's work examines the balance between progress and the sanctity of not being caught up in the machine of said progress. Not only is it a timely read (it probably always will be), but it is also powerfully written with memorable characters.
I was impressed with 'The Trees'. 'The Fields' read like a stepping stone towards the final installment. 'The Town' is excellent in its own regard, but taken as a whole, this 'Awakening Land' trilogy is probably an American masterpiece. It also serves as a reminder that clever literary devices are not required to qualify for literary status. This is powerful writing on a simple canvas. And that style is so appropriate for the story that it tells.
Last book in "The Awakening Land" trilogy. It seems odd rating them individuality, it feels like they should just be one 600 page book, in which case I would give it 4.5 stars.
Anyway, this was good, for the most part it wrapped up the characters from the first two books and we finally find out what happened to Suli (I'm not telling, though) as well as Sayward's father and Rosa the school teacher's daughter (interesting relationship there between Rosa and Chancey).
Some things are left a mystery which I suppose is realistic but had I been Sayward I would have made it my business to find out about Portious' past.
Some reviewers complain that this book focuses too much on Chancey, Sayward's youngest rather spoiled, sickly child. I didn't really find this so. You do need some direction in a story like this and he was most representative of the next generation, wanting things easier, despising the older pioneering forefathers, thinking that the flaccid, lazy man of today was going to be the world's salvation tomorrow etc. But it wasn't all about Chancey. How could it be when the author needs to wrap up a whole community of people? And the author does this well.
I think "The Town" was a strong finale to this trilogy.
I looked forward to The Town, the culmination of The Awakening Land trilogy, as I would to a phenomenal dessert at the end of a great dinner. This trilogy has been one of my most memorable reading experiences and Sayward one of the most memorable characters I have met in a novel. Initially The Town did not grab me the way the first two books did. I was expecting more Sayward and to Conrad Richter's credit, he surprised me and impressed me by not taking the obvious approach. Much of The Town is the story of Chancey or as seen through Chancey's eyes, and Chancey is a much less attractive character than Sayward. I was impressed with how Conrad Richter used this approach to provide the reader with different ways of seeing Sayward and ultimately provided a richer, more detailed understanding of her rather than just feeding the reader more of the same. I also enjoyed how he described the differences between generations and the resulting generation gaps. It is so like us, or at least me, to think that generation gaps are a development of more recent history (20th century). I did feel the manner in which some of the subplots were wrapped up in The Town was a little too convenient. Might it not have been better to just leave those subplots hanging, representative of how families lose touch, never to reconnect?
Dessert was delicious and more than I would have guessed.
I read the first book of this trilogy, The Trees and skipped the second one, The Fields, but perhaps wrongfully so, because the protagonist really does get fleshed out in this final installment of Richter's The Awakening Land trilogy which won the 1951 Pulitzer Prize. Like the previous two books, it treats the settling of Ohio which we saw as an unbridled wilderness in the first book and now is a small, but thriving town. The writing has matured enormously since the first book and I enjoyed the intrigues far more in this book which deals with facing one's aging, the death of one's parents, the disappearance of one's children, and one's own death for our protagonist. She is more likable here and although many things that occur are tragic, she is endowed with great humanity.
One nice quote: "The spray from her whitewood slab flew high above her head, and so fast did she ply it that the fine drops hung constantly in the air. Behind them was the falling sun, before them the forest. Against the dark trees, the drops took on the bright colors of the bow in the sky. But this wasn't like any bow he had seen before, and it wasn't in the sky. It hung right here in the creek around Rosa. She seemed to be standing in it. It played on her, bathed her. The drops as they came down flashed colored fire, and the reds, greens, yellows, and violets dyed her scantily clad body." (pp. 159)
A worthy Pulitzer winner overall.
My list of Pulitzer winners (nearly finished all of them!): here
A satisfying conclusion to Conrad Richter's family saga about pioneer life in the Ohio River Valley. Nothing could top The Trees, but I was pleased with the way the series wrapped up. As the trees are finally beaten and burned into submission, as a town grows up where once all had been wilderness, the old sense of community gives way to a rush of commerce, of getting and spending. Throughout, there is a sense of melancholy for all that has been lost, rather than a triumph at what has been gained. A thought-provoking Thanksgiving Day read.
Much of the latter half of the novel revolves around Sayward's youngest son, Chancey who is something of an anomaly, a quiet young man, a bit of a loner in a large, gregarious, energetic family. I'm an outlier among my GR friends since I rather liked Chancey and, being somewhat like him myself, I appreciated his struggles. The resolution at the novel's close was touching and believable.
I'm not sure what to rate this, 3 1/2? It's a good conclusion, nearly everything is wrapped up and it's as well written as the first two. My problem with it was mainly Chancey, who if I'd liked him would have been fine. Unfortunately he made me mad. and the whole last half of the book had me glad it wasn't all about him, and wishing that he would grow up.
would I recommend you reading this? Yes, you really can't miss the concluding tale. Am I glad I read it? I wouldn't have missed it, I'd have always wondered what happened to Sulie. Would I reread it? Maybe, right now I really don't know.
That said, Sayward is as steady as ever, and I think she's my favorite character in the series. I had hoped Portius never grew on me, in fact by the end I had the feeling he had a winner in Sayward and she had drawn the short straw. Oh, well. This series is realistic. Not everything goes perfect. I'll probably revise my review later when I'm more she of my opinion on it.
This third volume of The Awakening Land gives a proper send off to Sayward Luckett/Wheeler and the story of her and her family’s role in building the Ohio settlement that ultimately becomes known as the town of Americus, Ohio. The trilogy covers the period from the 1790s to the Civil War with this volume covering from around 1830 to the beginnings of the Civil War. This volume was the best and richest of the three as, to me, each volume got better. I attribute this to better-drawn and more sympathetic characters and an increase in the number and variety of plot events. This book was chock full of chapter length vignettes that served as episodes in Sayward and her husband Portius’ family life. Besides Sayward’s family, two of the better vignettes or story arcs involve a child that may or may not have been a Wheeler and another who was Portius’ offspring. This volume was extremely readable to me. All the events made this novel flow smoothly and always enticed me to read on more than I intended, to the detriment of my reading my other books. The writing seemed to get better as the plot events got more interesting. At first read I was not satisfied with all Richter’s choices in resolving the story arcs of this novel. But I realize I don’t have to like every choice an author makes to enjoy his work. Also, after reflection, I have come to accept Richter’s chosen story arcs as useful for his overall themes. I can now understand that Richter made some plot choices to contrast the strength and bravery in Sayward’s silent integrity with his prime male characters’ cowardice and weaknesses. I am rating this novel as 5 stars. While its writing style may not seem to be 5-star level, it does reflect Richter’s attempt to use the dialect of the pioneer times and is a style that fits the book. Richter even had the characters’ dialect evolve as the town progressed. In any event, its storytelling most certainly was 5 stars. Its many events, wonderful characterization and historical progression made it one of this year’s two best reading experiences for me. Additionally, the ending scene was highly rewarding and emotional. Thus, I closed the book as an extremely satisfied reader. Please note, however, that I would not expect this book to be as satisfying to a reader who had not read the first two volumes beforehand.
This novel concludes the trilogy of pioneering family clan, Luckett-Wheeler. It has been a very long time since I have been so moved by a novel -- indeed I was enraptured by the entire series. I find myself still fading into 19th Century Ohio, and meeting Sayward's ghost out of the corner of my eye, she is still so present within me. Richter does for 19thC America what Dickens did for 19thC England: vivid, animated, theatrical; brilliantly painted. I could pull out the thesaurus at this time, and just use all the words therein to describe a scintillating read, and that might just be enough!
The Town encompasses the span of Sayward's life as she makes the move from "cabin to county seat", but we are left wondering if, after all, civilization is not a double-edged sword. When we first encounter Sayward, in the first book of the trilogy, we battle the paradox of nature with her: the cruelty and the kindness of it; the beauty, and its darkness. Similarly, we explore those themes within this last novel, but this time battling with the paradox of humanity: whether we are better off as simple citizens of the world, struggling daily for our bread; or whether the work of the mind is the nobler struggle. Richter leaves no doubt which he champions -- but I will not spoil the exploration for you!
If you are looking for a good, old fashioned read, that engages mind and soul, and demands something of you, while entertaining you beyond measure, this is a must-read!
The last of the series. The Trees have been cleared, the farms have become successful, now it is time to move to town. I highly recommed this series. I will never forget Sayward and the Wheeler family. A perfect ay to learn history and appreciate the early settlers as you will never read any better descrition of their day to day lives.
This completes the trilogy that chronicles one early 19th century pioneering woman and the transformation of a sparsely inhabited area of the mid-West into a thriving town in the newly formed state of Ohio. 3.5 stars
I was actually a little disappointed in the final book of what was otherwise a wonderful trilogy. The new character of Chancey was a major drag on the overall tone of the story. I believe Richter was doing this to make a point about how the current generation views past generations, but Chancey was so negative as to drag down the tone of the story as a whole. Additionally, the character's issues were finally resolved in literally the last three pages of the book: not quite the catharsis I was looking for from such a negative character. As a whole though, the series was very well written and researched, and paints a vivid picture of the settlement of the early frontier and America's journey from colony to nation.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Although Richter won the Pulitzer for this third book of The Awakening Land trilogy, it was my least favorite. The Town seemed to revolve around Sayward's last child, Chancey, who seemed to have an obnoxious teenager's mentality/personality his entire life.
As in all the books, the action seems to move in spurts, sometimes giving great detail and then referring back to things that have happened off-stage (things I would have liked to hear more about) with no explanation.
I liked the way Sayward came to terms with "the trees" which she hated in the first book and ended up planting around her home in the last book because she missed them once they were all cut down.
Don't understand why this third novel in the trilogy won the Pulitzer. Veering away from the admirably understated purity of the first novel, The Woods, it becomes melodramatic, ugly, and overwrought. Disappointing.
I must say that Conrad Richter’s “Awakening Land” trilogy (The Trees, The Fields, and now, The Town) has been one of my favorite reading experiences of the last six months. The books were written in the 1940s and document one fictional family’s life from 1795 through about 1870, settling in the Ohio territory.
“The Trees” saw the Luckett family settle in the midst of the heavily forested land. In “The Fields,” they cleared the land. Finally, with “The Town,” there is now a thriving town. Sayward, who we met as a girl in the first book, is now middle-aged with grown children. She and her attorney husband Portius live in a “mansion house” in the town of Americus.
This book, and indeed the series, looks at events largely as seen through Sayward’s eyes. Despite being a “woodsy” with little education, Sayward has a pretty mature take on things.
One theme in the book seemed to be change. As her setting changed from a single cabin to a settlement to now a town, Sayward observed life in general changing as well. “She recollected how Granny MacWhirter used to complain of how folks changed since the Revolution … She reckoned Granny was just getting old. The old always complained of the young. No, she hadn’t seen what Granny meant then, but she was beginning to now.”
I loved Sayward’s practical, common-sense attitudes: “The Lord had put her feet back on the ground like she expected, and she oughtn’t to complain if the ground was hard and none too clean.” “The more you cried, the less you had to pee.”
When things go well, Sayward feels she has “used up all her credit with the Lord,” while when things went badly, “She always felt she had saved up some blessing that the Lord owed her.” While I know this isn’t Biblically true, I understand her train of thought here and confess to musing on it myself. “She owed the Lord something and she better fetch her feet down to solid ground before He did it for her.”
Richter is a master of writing. Almost every chapter of this book is devastating in its understated poignance; one example being when Sayward and her sister go out looking for their long-lost sister Sulie, who disappeared as a child. They find her, living with her Indian husband, but after all the years of tears and thought they have invested in Sulie, she no longer claims to know them or even wants to acknowledge them. Then Sayward has numerous thoughts about her grown children: those she raised without much thought do fine, while the youngest, whom she has coddled and feared for his health, gives her endless grief and dislikes her heartily. Youngest son Chancey dislikes both his parents and everything they stand for, and is not shy in sharing his thoughts. What makes one child this way while another, raised similarly, turns out totally different? These are questions the book raises.
As Sayward approaches the end of her life, she ponders: “In her time she had looked forward to a good many things that came to pass, but never had she looked forward to outlasting her time … when you’re the last of your generation, then you can drink a draft of loneliness you never drank before.” I was reminded of an aging George Bush encouraging his young granddaughter to “enjoy being in the game” while she could.
Sayward ponders the changes she has seen in society over the course of her life. “Once a majority of the men got weak and soft, what weak, harmful ways would they vote the country into then? Well, her pap’s generation could get down on their knees and thank the Almighty they lived and died when they did. How would they ever have come and settled this wild country if they said to each other, ‘Ain’t you afeard?’ How would her pappy have fetched them the long way out here on foot if he’d kept asking all the time, ‘Are ye all right! How do ye feel? Do he reckon ye kin make it?’ No, those old time folks he knew were scared of nothing, or if they were, they didn’t say so. They knew they ran bad risks moving into Indian country, but they had to die some time. They might as well live as they pleased and let others bury them when the time came. Now Libby’s generation, it seemed, lived mostly to study and fret about ailing and dying.” Wow — if that doesn’t sum up the past two years of life in Covid America, I don’t know what does.
I would say that I most enjoyed The Trees, followed by The Fields, and finally The Town, although Conrad Richter won the Pulitzer Prize for The Town in 1951. Of the book, he wrote “If this novel has any other purpose … it has been to try to impart to the reader a feeling of having lived for a while in those earlier days and of having come in contact, not with the sound and fury of dramatic historical events that is the fortune of the relative and sometimes uninteresting few, but with the broader stuff of reality that was the lot of the great majority of men and women who, if they did not experience the certain incidents related in these page, lived through comparable events and circumstances, for life is endlessly resourceful and inexhaustible. It is only the author who is limited and mortal.”
Fantastic book series that I can’t recommend highly enough.
Conrad Richter won the Pulitzer Prize for his book, The Town, in1951. Sometimes when I read a novel there are certain characters that are so interesting that you think, wouldn't it be fun to actually meet them if you could. Sayward Wheeler is one of those characters. She is a mother of a large family of settlers in Ohio in the early 1800's. She is strong willed and loves her family. She gave all her children a strong root system of Christian beliefs and a solid work ethic. The story is wonderfully told by the author. I give this book 5 stars.
I would have abandoned this book but I wanted to finish the trilogy. I found the romance between Chancey and Rosa tedious and overworked, while his conflict against his family was so transparently a straw-man argument (stupid youth!). I resented having to slog through all of his point of view chapters, just as a build up for the weak conclusion. My other grievance was with Portius: they never reconciled his championing the "rogue" with his abandoning Rosa.
Third in the trilogy…. I am now best friends with Saird’ the main character. I now know how she thinks, her expressions and even her accent. I’ve gone thru hardships with her and shared her joy. I will miss her immensely. To rate the three ( even though they are all 5 star) best is The Fields, then The Trees then this one The Town. Oh how I envy those about to start this trilogy for the first time!
What distinguishes a Pulitzer Prize-winning novel from well-written novels that do not win prestigious awards? I would assert a deeper exploration into the psyche and behavior of the human species. I would also suggest an undertaking of far greater depth and scope than the attention-gaining, quick-moving, character-conflict- resolution-end of story kind of novel. I believe “The Town” meets these conditions.
I appreciated these three themes.
The accomplishments that one generation achieves and the people who achieve them are too frequently discounted by people of succeeding generations tempted to believe, because their lives have been made easier, that they are more enlightened, superior.
Every child born of the same parents is different from his/her siblings, but all, usually, adopt the broad values inculcated during their upbringing. But there can be outliers that parents may never direct.
Great harm can be done to innocent children by cruel attitudes and acts of adults who adhere to rigid moral codes.
Intertwined in the revelation of these themes are two important characters: Chancey Wheeler, the youngest of Sayward and Portius Wheeler’s ten surviving children, and Rosa Tench, Portius’s illegitimate daughter.
Chancey Wheeler is the outlier of the Wheeler children. Unlike his siblings, he is born with a delicate constitution. He is sickly, physically weak, and seemingly handicapped by a weak heart. During his first several years of life he is frequently carried to places in and close to the family house rather than be expected to walk. Deprived of normal activity, he spends most of his time inert. Much of that time he fantasizes.
He resents his siblings’ robustness. In his late teens he acknowledges the reasons for his dislike of them. "They were so sufficient to themselves, he thought. That was it. Nothing stopped them. Any one of his people could go it alone, ask for no quarter, do without your help. … If only there had been another in the family puny, lazy and cowardly like he! Just the thought of having such a brother or sister, perhaps one even worse than he was, lifted him up, made him feel better. But his mother wouldn’t admit he was puny or cowardly or anything else that wasn’t good. He was strong as anybody else, she claimed. … But nobody could make that much out of him, Chancey told himself, for none understood him save Rosa."
He believes his mother resents him. He convinces himself that Sayward and Portius are not his parents and he longs for the day when his real parents will take him away. He tells fantastic stories – for instance, he rode in to town once on the back of a red cow – and insists that they are true. As he matures, he resists doing menial work. In his middle teens he meets Rosa Tench and finds her to be an unthreatening, accepting soul. Eventually, he leaves the home and start a career as a newspaper editor. He is harshly critical of Sayward’s generation and of his oldest brother, Resolve, who has become governor of the state. He steadfastly believes that his mother is cruel to him by insisting that he not be soft and lazy. Eventually, Sayward blames herself for his shortcomings. "Where she made the mistake was letting a little sickness coddle him. Had she brought him up rough and tumble like his brothers and sisters, he’d know how to call back worse names than he got, and then the others would be glad to leave him alone."
He rejects everything Sayward values -- especially the virtue of hard work -- which he believes are old-fashioned, out-of-date. In his late teens he and Sayward have this conversation.
"This spring he tried every excuse to get out of working in the lot and garden. When she held him to it, he cried out it was a disgrace. She was thunderstruck though she tried not to show it.
'Why is honest work a disgrace?'she wanted to know.
'It’s all right for those who have to,' he told her. 'But you’re the richest woman in Americus and I’m your son and yet we have to go out and work like hired men in the field.'
It came to her mind to say, I thought you said you weren’t my son, but never would she cast that up to him.
'Work’s the best thing we can do, Chancey,' she said."
Caught up with fanciful notions of an enlightened society – justification to excuse his aversion to work -- he responds this way.
"'… progress will do away with all toil and labor in time. … There’ll be no rich people and no poor people, just brothers and sisters. And everybody will have security and happiness.' Sayward answers.
'Making a body happy by taking away what made him unhappy will never keep him happy long. The more you give him, the more he’ll want and the weaker he’ll get for not having to scratch for hisself.'"
Chancey is an unsympathetic character throughout the novel.
Rosa Tench is the consequence of Portius’s marital infidelity with the town’s school mistress, Miss Bartram, who marries a local laborer, Jake Tench, prior to Rosa’s birth. These events occur in Conrad Richter novel, “The Fields.” Neither Rosa nor Chancey know of their blood relationship. Mrs. Tench, following Rosa’s birth, becomes an isolate, never leaves her house, is slovenly, lives only to identify with characters in novels. Rosa is an entirely different child than are her brothers, who are ordinary and rather crude.
We meet Rosa initially in a fascinating scene fairly early in the novel.
Portius, suffering a high fever, is being nursed back to health. Rosa’s father, in a drunken state, wanting to prick Portius’s conscience, sends Rosa to the Wheeler house with a batch of flowers. Sayward answers a gentle knock on the front door.
"Her slender legs looked like they never belonged in that coarse gray calico dress she had on, and her white face had the singular shape of one of her blossoms. Washed and rightly dressed and combed, she would be oddly beautiful, Sayward thought. Now the little girl just stood there, not saying a word."
Sayward gets Rosa to identify herself.
"The sound of the name gave Sayward a turn. For a minute she just stood looking. So this was the child conceived in sin by the pretty school mistress who, they said, looked like a hag now, and would not set foot out of her house since the babe was born, nor would she wash or comb! Why, the girl was no bigger than Chancey, though she must be a year or two older. And now Sayward knew, with the feel of knife in her side, who the girl looked like.
Did the girl know it, too? Her face quivered.
'I brought some flowers for Mr. Wheeler,' she said, very low, holding out her handful.
'I’m sure he’ll be much obliged to you,' Sayward told her, sober as could be, taking them from her, steeling herself, hardening her hand toward the soft clinging feel of those fingers, Now how much did the child know, she wondered. 'Did you bring those your own self or did somebody tell you to?' she asked.
'My father told me.' The girl’s eyes were like the most ethereal of wide slaty gray liquid curtains that threatened to be torn down."
Sayward recognizes Jake Tench’s intent.
"… just the trick Jake would play on some highly respectable bigwig …, send a bastard child to him with flowers when he was sick, but Jake would have to be might tipsy to play it on his own foster child and Portius. Why, he had threatened death on any who told Rosa that she was not his own, or so she heard."
Sayward has to leave to tend Portius. She instructs Rosa to sit just inside the front door to wait. When Sayward returns, Rosa is gone. Her daughters Huldah and Libby are at the door.
“'Where is she?' she asked them.
'Do you know who that was?” Huldah leered at her.
“Of course I know. What did you do to her?’
'We didn’t do anything,' Libby said. 'We just looked at her, that’s all.' But her face said, 'We sent her home a flying.'
'I can imagine how you looked at her,' Sayward said sternly."
This scene foreshadows Sayward’s difficulty accepting Rosa’s existence and the Wheeler children’s and Porticus’s rejection of Rosa throughout the novel. It also foreshadows Rosa’s victimization by her mother, Jake Tench, and others in the community.
By accident Chancey and Rosa meet in town. They discover that each feels estranged from their families. Rosa takes Chancey for walks in the woods to enjoy the beautiful isolation of nature that she craves. Chancey sees in her a sanctuary from his feelings of inadequacy and the resentment he feels toward his mother and siblings. They grow older, continue to meet; their meetings become know to their families; they are forbidden by them to meet. Portius has the sheriff warn Rosa and Chancey of the consequences of their continued meetings. After a subsequent meeting, Rosa’s mother says awful things to her.
“Don’t all right me, Miss Rosa! If you don’t want to tell your own mother, I can’t make you. But don’t tell her either, when the law brings your sin out in court. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Never did I dream I would have a daughter such as you!”
Their meetings are not sexual, as the public and family members suspect. Each provides the other emotional release. Unlike Chancey, Rosa is a sympathetic, almost beloved character. We respond to her anguish when she looks through the windows of the Wheeler mansion and marvels at the advantages the Wheeler children have compared to what she must endure.
"Wasn’t it the saddest thing in this world that you always had to be yourself, that you couldn’t be somebody else, that never, never, never could you be the person you most wanted to be?"
I was furious at the outcome of her conflict.
I valued also other aspects of this novel. For instance, the story, covering many years, mirrors real life. Tragedies occur, challenges must be met, characters age, children are born, “progress” happens. At the end of the novel the town is nothing like what the land had been when Sayward, a child, was brought into the deep forest by her father and mother at the beginning of the novel “The Trees.” All three of Conrad Richter’s three novels about the Lucketts and Wheelers have an authentic feel about them that causes their readers to believe such a place existed.
4.5 stars. An interesting, engaging historical fiction novel about Sayward Luckett Wheeler and her family over a 30 to 40 year period in the 1800s, set in Ohio Valley, USA. Sayward had around ten children and was married for approximately forty years to Judge Wheeler. There is very good character development and many significant events, providing good plot momentum.
A very enjoyable, satisfying reading experience. Winner of the 1951 Pulitzer Prize for fiction.
The Town is the third installment of Conrad Richter's The Awakening Land trilogy, and won the Pulitzer Prize in 1951. Although you could read this book as a standalone, I don't recommend it. Together the three books tell the full story of one family that travels to the western frontier (now Ohio) where they were the first pioneer family in the area and found a densely forested land. The second book has the eldest daughter marrying, and as the family grows they are clearing the land, creating fields that they will sow. This third book continues to follow this woman as she ages, she says goodbye to the family that moves away, and a town grows up around her. When you read all three books you are able to watch this woman, her family, and our country age nearly 80 years. And I loved the moments of reflection that she experienced in her old age when she mourned the loss of the trees that she now missed, after working so hard to clear them for much of her life.
I love the quiet, insightful, intelligent look at life on the western frontier. I loved getting to know these characters so well. However -- and this is a big problem. The attitudes and language regarding Native Americans was extremely racist and I struggled to separate it from the author. I understand that these were the reactions and thoughts of the white settlers of the day, but at times it felt like it was the author talking rather than the characters.
As a child I read and watched Little House on the Prairie. This series was a bit of the grown up version for me.
As a stand-alone this doesn’t begin to compare to The Trees, the first book in Conrad Richter’s The Awakening Land trilogy, but it's still a satisfying conclusion to the saga of the pioneers who settled the Ohio Valley. What I liked was that it brought to life the traces of 19th century Ohio I’ve glimpsed in small towns along the Tuscarawas and the canal linking Lake Erie to the Ohio River (although I've read this is set in a fictional town along the Scioto). What I didn’t like was that it focused more on Sayward Luckett Wheeler’s youngest child Chancey than it did on Sayward and the early Ohio history she and her fellow settlers helped to shape. This did show how their self sufficiency and resilience set them apart from the generations that followed but I felt the moralizing was heavy handed and detracted from the historical feel that made the first two books so special. Still, an outstanding series and well worth rereading.
4.5 stars I loved this trilogy, and especially the heroine, Sayward Luckett, who is featured in all three books. This last book is told from several points of view, and covers 40ish years wherein the Luckett/Wheeler family and their growing town Moonshine Church change completely from a forest settlement into the County Seat, and Sayward from a woodsy to the richest woman in the area, moving from her cabin to a mansion her husband builds in town.
Sayward changes very little, even though everything around her changes tremendously. She is a great, interesting character, and I enjoyed reading her voice through all three books.
I wish there were more books about the remaining characers, I'd like to see what becomes of her children, and especially the youngest, Chancey, who is featured a lot in this book, and is nearly the polar opposite of his hard-working, simple woodsy mother.