Sunday, April 15, 2012

The Brothers K

For the first third of David James Duncan's gigantic, 650 page book, I was in love. I could not get enough of The Brothers K and I don't even like baseball which features prominently in this book. Still, it's about baseball the way Friday Night Lights was about football. Really, the story is about the Chance family and their collective and separate journeys through the 20 ugly years that start in the late 50s. I say ugly because, remember that the bulk of this period involves the Vietnam War. I also say ugly because, hey, it includes the 1970s.

Papa Toe Chance (though he gets this nickname late in life when, yes, his mangled thumb is replaced by his big toe in what must have been cutting edge surgery back then) is a pitching wonder. Life has intervened (even before the mangled thumb) and he has a growing family, an adored religious zealot for a wife, and fading dreams of pitching. Drink is more appealing to him, though the Seventh Day Adventist spirit in the house often precludes that option.

The religion is tough to take, perhaps tougher than the baseball jargon. Sure, I glided over a few descriptions of long innings, but I devoured young Kincaid's description of two announcers and their patter. "Call us Diz and Pee, for short!" Enthuses the more entertaining of the two. Poor Pee Wee Reese has to play straight man to this guy, but it makes for entertaining exchanges. Kincaid says, "[Dizzy] tells you things you hadn't notice, and things that have nothing to do with what's happening, and he gets mad at umps, makes fun of bad plays and players, calls errors 'eras' and basemen 'sackers,' tells lies, brags, invents fake statistics to win arguments, and generally grates on Pee Wee's nerves till you feel you're really living through a flesh-and-blood ballgame instead of sitting in your house staring at a box."

That kind of patter might make even me pay attention to a game. The problem with this particular game is that it's taking place on the Adventists' sabbath day and Kincaid and his father--he of the still-mangled thumb-- are breaking all sorts of rules set by their mother. Laura is so devout (and devoted to Elder Babcock) that it eventually causes a rift in the family, with the non-believer children doomed to hell in her mind (and therefore no longer destined to be under her earthly care) and the three who still believe. The father gets a pass. Sure, later--at the very end, we find out the source of Laura Chance's blind, determined devotion to her faith. Though it falls a little flat and comes a little late, it all makes sense in the end, and this is after the most devout and kind and thoughtful of her children has been mangled by the Vietnam War, abandoned by his church, and cast out for his very beliefs.

The rescue of Irwin from the clutches of those who thought they could best help him could have been a joke. Picture the scene: A motley assortment of Chance family members, Adventists, including a visiting Korean elder, and some hangers-on arriving at a military psych ward in a couple of Winnebagoes. Throw in a dash of the terrible fashions of the 1970s and Duncan could have just made fun of everyone and called it a day. Instead, the scene becomes quite moving and heals a rift among believers and non-believers, drinkers and academics, baseball-lovers and those who have abandoned the sport, draft dodgers and those damaged more directly by war. Those who want to sing Adventist songs and those who want to storm the place to rescue the lost son. This episode is what won me back. Zealotry of any kind--religious, political, academic, spiritual, is never the answer, Duncan seems to say, but family is. Family matters and never mind how crazy that family turns out to be, you shouldn't let go. Even if it takes 650 pages to sort out what the heck is going on in the Chance family. As one brother's political college paper column is called, "Give Chance a Peace." Give this book a go, just be ready to commit yourself.

*You do not have to have intimate knowledge of either The Brothers Karamazov or Russian literature in general, but it might add a level of enjoyment or understanding.

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