The Orchardist – April CC Book Club Selection

[Mary13]

<p>

@sylvan8798

Plate glass windows in a rustic cabin in Washington would have been unlikely in 1900.

</p>

<p>Unlikely, but at least possible:</p>

<p>

Plate glass, that wickedly expensive French product, also became commonplace by the end of the 19th century. Water power, then steam and then electricity made the grinding and polishing of heavy glass plates faster and easier. By the 1860s, smart stores and office buildings in Europe and North America glistened with plate glass…the Pittsburgh Plate Glass Company became the first successful manufacturer of the product in the United States. By 1895, the company could produce 20 million square feet of plate glass a year, and imports from Europe fell sharply.
[Glass</a> History from PPG](<a href=“http://www.glasslinks.com/newsinfo/histppg.htm]Glass”>http://www.glasslinks.com/newsinfo/histppg.htm)

</p>

<p>Amanda Coplin says in a few of her interviews that she was a huge fan of Little House on the Prairie as a child, and that the series influenced her writing. I still remember the chapter in which Pa installs glass windows in their cabin (yes, also a fan :o) and that setting was the late 1860s. (That was smaller window glass, though, not plate glass.)</p>

<p>I quoted Coplin earlier re the fact that she was only regretful of historical inaccuracies to the point that they distracted the reader. I was sufficiently immersed in the story (and/or sufficiently unknowledgeable) that they didn’t bother me. Only once was I distracted enough to “jump” out of the story and that was when the warden told Talmadge disapprovingly that Della had “acted out.” That struck me as such a modern expression that I stopped to look it up. The term appears to have been coined by Freud, but would not have been in common parlance by 1900, especially by a rural prison warden.</p>

[sylvan8798]

<p>Something I find interesting to observe is the differences in a story written contemporaneously with the time in which it is set, and a story written many years later than the setting. It was clear that this was a modern writer, although I didn’t feel that it detracted from the story itself, other than a few blips like the “acted out” line, which I also took note of when I read it.</p>

[mathmom]

<p>As it happens I am currently (belatedly) reading The Secret Garden and it is just sooooo 19th century! Something that I was considerably less aware of as a kid. It’s interesting to think how that story might have been written by a contemporary author.</p>

[NJTheatreMOM]

<p>

Something I find interesting to observe is the differences in a story written contemporaneously with the time in which it is set, and a story written many years later than the setting.

</p>

<p>I can’t resist putting in a plug for a fantastic book I just finished reading – To the Ends of the Earth by William Golding, author of Lord of the Flies. </p>

<p>To the Ends of the Earth is a trilogy of novels published between 1980 and 1989; the first volume won the Man Booker Prize. Most of the content consists of a “journal” kept by a fictitious character who lived in the early 19th century. These books are deliciously entertaining and witty, with satisfyingly character-driven plots, lots and lots of fascinating historical detail, and a very convincing authorial “voice.”</p>

<p>Because I had some extra time for reading in the past month, I somehow ended up gobbling up all 761 pages of To the Ends of the Earth in the two weeks immediately after I had finished The Orchardist. </p>

<p>To the Ends of the Earth was so vivid and bursting with exuberant life that I’m afraid The Orchardist pretty much faded away to nothing in comparison.</p>

[SouthJerseyChessMom]

<p>Hello all. I’ve been a lurker these last few days, enjoying the conversation from the sideline.
I feel a bit like NJ theaterMom-I’ve forgotten much of the story. I read the Orchardist weeks ago. I agree with Mary,and others,it was a page turner for sure.
I kept trying to figure out where the book was going, how would it all end!</p>

<p>Should we give credit to the author for surprising most of us, for not giving us a happily ever after story?
I share Mary’s view that something was just off about this book, and I needed this book discussion to help me make up my mind about the book. BU &BC posted that she wanted convincing that this was an uplifting story, which I Believed it was, while I read it, but it’s been haunting me since, It morphed, even before the discussion. The brutal dark parts overshadowed my love for Talmadge, and especially Caroline Middey my favorite character,</p>

<p>Last year, I visited Leadville, colorado, a colorful mining town, which had its hey day in the late 1800’s , early 1900s. It’s remote, and known as the highest city in the country.( and that is about altitude, not about the legalization of pot in colorado) </p>

<p>I’ve also lived in Billings and Missoula, Montana, and had the opportunity to travel around the Northwest a bit.</p>

<p>While, Coplin’s book may contain some incorrect historical details, unimportant to me, for me this book was about the WEST, and the pioneering spirit of those who endured harsh conditions to survive.
And, Coplin, did this with an entirely feminine mindset. She painted a broad picture of STRONG female characters !
Starting with Talmadge’s widowed mother, the feral twins, Jane ended things on her tragic, sad terms, Della manifested Clee’s decree that she had survival in her soul, ( or as Mary stated she withered away, worn out from life) and finally Caroline Middey, the rock, the mother goddess of this story.
Even Sweet Talmadge, was so feminine his mannerisms, his nurturing character, his gentleness, which endeared him to me.</p>

<p>But, despite all this pastoral, feminine lyricism, there is a streak of blackness so deep with this story, that it resonants with me long after.</p>

<p>I recently, heard an NPR, interview, conducted a year ago with Coplin, she said that when researching the book, she didn’t find any brothels, or places like the one she created, and that she wanted to put the girls in the most horrid situation she could imagine, and therefore, created that dungeon of horror. ( and what is more horrific are the child sex slaves who really do exist in today’s world) </p>

<p>I guess, that was Coplin’s point, to portray reality, and the WEST as a brutal place, where happily ever after doesn’t always exist. Q</p>

<p>PS- As a former mountain trail hiker, I assumed the sister was attacked by a bear, always a concern in the mountains.</p>

[Mary13]

<p>SJCM, we’ve missed you. :)</p>

<p>

@SouthJerseyChessMom

While Coplin’s book may contain some incorrect historical details, unimportant to me, for me this book was about the WEST, and the pioneering spirit of those who endured harsh conditions to survive.</p>

<p>And, Coplin, did this with an entirely feminine mindset. She painted a broad picture of STRONG female characters !

</p>

<p>I agree. The women were solid, with backbones of steel—even Angelene for all her gentle obedience. Your comments made me think about Larry McMurtry’s Lonesome Dove, another portrait of the West that shows how brutal that life really was. It was a joyless existence for many: battling the elements and facing early death, with violence and hardship part of everyday life. In that sense, Angelene’s story really does have a happy ending—she is spared the suffering experienced by the other women in the novel: Talmadge’s mother, Elsbeth, Jane, Della, the woman in the snowstorm who miscarried (twins!) and Caroline Middey, too (although the details of her loss are only hinted at).</p>

<p>I also appreciated the male characters (Talmadge, Clee and the wrangler) – how hard they tried to undo the damage caused by one evil man, and how their support of and commitment to each other lasted a lifetime (“there was no deficit in their relationship, no lack”). Those were the things that made the story uplifting for me.</p>

[ignatius]

<p>

@sylvan

I felt that the fall was an accident, but an ironic one, given the earlier events in the orchard.

</p>

<p>Yes, though I’m not sure Della wouldn’t have committed suicide had she been capable of it. I think Clee nails it when he thinks that Della can’t kill and I think that includes killing herself. I think she has little regard for safety though because she has little regard for her own life, increasingly so as time goes by. </p>

<p>

But she would not kill Michaelson, he wanted to tell Talmadge. She might have indicated her desire to do otherwise, but she would not do it. He recalled the time she had traveled with the men, her wariness at killing any animal for food. […] … Clee watched her closely and saw she hardly used her rifle, of which she had been so proud at first, at all. But, he thought, she was proud of it as an object that signified her independence, and not necessarily of its destructive use as a weapon.</p>

<p>[…]</p>

<p>She had stabbed this man Michaelson so superficially and embarrassingly in the jail, he thought, because she had not the stomach for close physical violence. That was the simplest answer–or one answer–to why she would not kill him. She might think she wanted to kill him; but finally, she was incapable of it.

</p>

<p>SJCM: Excellent post. I particularly like</p>

<p>

While, Coplin’s book may contain some incorrect historical details, unimportant to me, for me this book was about the WEST, and the pioneering spirit of those who endured harsh conditions to survive.</p>

<p>And, Coplin, did this with an entirely feminine mindset. She painted a broad picture of STRONG female characters !</p>

<p>Starting with Talmadge’s widowed mother, the feral twins, Jane ended things on her tragic, sad terms, Della manifested Clee’s decree that she had survival in her soul, ( or as Mary stated she withered away, worn out from life) and finally Caroline Middey, the rock, the mother goddess of this story.</p>

<p>Even Sweet Talmadge, was so feminine his mannerisms, his nurturing character, his gentleness, which endeared him to me.

</p>

<p>I also agree with Mary when she includes Angelene in the group of women with backbones of steel. Angelene does not allow Talmadge to go alone on that ill-fated trip to rescue Della. Defiantly she travels by herself, arriving in Chelan before Talmadge does. And despite her youth, Angelene takes care of Talmadge - alone - till he passes.</p>

[SouthJerseyChessMom]

<p>

In that sense, Angelene’s story really does have a happy ending—she is spared the suffering experienced by the other women in the novel: Talmadge’s mother, Elsbeth, Jane, Della, the woman in the snowstorm who miscarried (twins!) and Caroline Middey, too (although the details of her loss are only hinted at).

</p>

<p>Exactly, I agree.</p>

<p>** Ignatiius **

Angelene does not allow Talmadge to go alone on that ill-fated trip to rescue Della. Defiantly she travels by herself, arriving in Chelan before Talmadge does. And despite her youth, Angelene takes care of Talmadge - alone - till he passes.

</p>

<p>Yes, good point, I forgot those details. Angeline, another independent, determined female character.</p>

[SouthJerseyChessMom]

<p>** mathmom, sylvan and Nj TheaterMom **
I think you’ve addressed brought up some good points. NJ TheaterMom, suggests that the Orchardist, was easily forgotten, comparing it to The End s of the Earth.
mathmom and. Sylvan, are reading 19th century novels, ( as I am- Middlemarch), and in comparison, The Orchardist doesn’t fully capture the era.</p>

<p>When I read the chapter about Talmadge and Clee’s attempt to rescue Della, from prison, I thought it was the equivalent of a " car chase" scene in a movie. It didn’t work for me, and now I realize, perhaps it was a modern plot device?</p>

[sylvan8798]

<p>

@SJCM

When I read the chapter about Talmadge and Clee’s attempt to rescue Della, from prison, I thought it was the equivalent of a " car chase" scene in a movie. It didn’t work for me, and now I realize, perhaps it was a modern plot device?

When I read that chapter, and then the next one buzzes rather superficially through the court and legal matters I felt like I fell off a cliff. It was such a sharp change from the drama of the scene on the beach to the whole condensed aftermath.</p>

[NJTheatreMOM]

<p>Oooh, you’re reading Middlemarch, SJCM. Good for you! It’s so wonderful. </p>

<p>I started Daniel Deronda way back in December and only got 60 or so pages in before becoming massively distracted by one thing and another. I really like it though, and will get back to it soon.</p>

[Mary13]

<p>

@ignatius

I think Clee nails it when he thinks that Della can’t kill and I think that includes killing herself.

</p>

<p>That’s true. And I would never doubt Clee, who is right on so many things! Despite the ups and downs of the book, there are certain brief passages—really “glimpses”— that I liked very much. Clee’s return from prison, to the embrace of the wrangler’s family, was one of those parts. When the little girl takes him by the hand and insists on showing off her horsemanship, his mixed emotions as he boosts her up on the horse express both the past–his memories of Della–and the future–his openness to starting over: “Watch me, watch me! pleaded the girl, and he nodded, his heart beating through his body, which felt hollow with fear and joy” (p. 405).</p>

<p>

@sylvan8798

Something I find interesting to observe is the differences in a story written contemporaneously with the time in which it is set, and a story written many years later than the setting.

</p>

<p>I agree. They are just two different species, aren’t they? I mentioned during one of our past discussions that North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell, written in 1855, was one of my favorite books. But it’s nothing like any “Victorian historical fiction” that might be written today. The vocabulary, dialogue, descriptions, political and economic references—and, especially, the need to read between the lines—is so different from what today’s reader expects (and is willing to grapple with). It would be fun for us to do a “tandem” read: two books of similar plot/setting/era, one written at the actual time the story is set and the other written today. So many books, so little time…</p>

<p>NJTheatreMOM, I continue to be impressed at what a prolific reader you are. I feel like I always have a book in my hand (or purse or car or pocket), but I could never keep up with you – my pace is tortoise-like!</p>

[mathmom]

<p>I read* Middlemarch one summer in college when I was travelling alone in Europe and loved it. I tried to read it again when my kids were very small and didn’t get anywhere. I keep wondering if I should try again, or if my attention span has gotten even shorter. Well not exactly shorter - I’ve got The Secret Garden, Vol 3 of The Game of Thrones and Life *by Keith Richards all on my bedside table at the moment.</p>

<p>I agree that the part of the book after the failed rescue attempt seemed rushed.</p>

[Mary13]

<p>

@mathmom

I’ve got The Secret Garden, Vol 3 of The Game of Thrones and Life by Keith Richards all on my bedside table at the moment.

</p>

<p>Quite an eclectic collection!</p>

[SouthJerseyChessMom]

<p>Interview with Coplin-</p>

<p>She discusses the role of landscape
Della and Jane are inspired by her relationship with her cousin Lindsay.</p>

<p>She speaks about the ending- she views it as " happy" or "not “unhappy”
and, she says the point of the book, is that people “try to communicate, TRY to care and love each other, even though they may fail”</p>

<p><a href=“http://www.katu.com/amnw/segments/Interview-with-Author-Amanda-Coplin-on-The-Orchardist-179146701.html[/url]”>http://www.katu.com/amnw/segments/Interview-with-Author-Amanda-Coplin-on-The-Orchardist-179146701.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;

<p>Do you have a personal sense of landscape or location? Are you connected to a place which is filled with memories?</p>

<p>I’ve been doing some family research via ancestry.com, and many of my relatives lived in Philadlephia, and I feel so connected to them when I’m in the city.</p>

<p>I, also, grew up in a small town of 4,000 in Central NJ, and have that sense of place.</p>

<p>A Goodreads reviewer ( Named Will if you want to read his glowing review of The Orchardist) speaks about being connected to Greenwich Village, of walking there with his children, sharing his memories of growing up in the city, every corner, or store evoked strong memories.
So this “landscape”, Will claims, can be urban space.</p>

<p>My mother- in- law, moved so much when she was a a child, she doesn’t have any connections or roots in any place- sad I think.</p>

[sylvan8798]

<p>^The landscape can definitely be an urban space. We also moved a lot when I was a child, and I haven’t been back to those early places (across the country), but occasionally I find myself in one of the local neighborhoods that must have some vague resemblance to one of those childhood towns and get a weird sense of deja vu. </p>

<p>I also have spent a lot of time on the family genealogies, and hope to visit some of those areas in Maryland and Pennsylvania once the kids are on their way to see where they settled, etc.</p>

<p>I felt more of a connection with the “landscape” in The Orchardist than I did with the characters themselves.</p>

[mathmom]

<p>We moved every two or three years as a child, but the three years we spent in Somalia are my landscape. When we were in Jordan this winter I felt like I was going home. Love the red earth, the sand, the acacia trees, the camels, the wide open spaces, even the smell…</p>

<p>I felt like the ending was not exactly unhappy, but it still left me feeling sad. I wanted the landscape to live on even if the people couldn’t and of course it had changed too.</p>

[ignatius]

<p>When discussing earlier that Della does not have it in her to kill, I forgot to mention another example. Despite always following Jane’s directives, Della stops at drowning the baby Angelene. She can’t do it. </p>

<p>

@SJCM

She [Coplin] speaks about the ending- she views it as " happy" or "not “unhappy” and, she says the point of the book, is that people “try to communicate, TRY to care and love each other, even though they may fail.”

</p>

<p>I noted earlier that I must be a glass-half-full type of person (optimist) because I also view the end as happy or, at the least, not unhappy. Did I want Della to return to the orchard and find succor there? Well, I never saw that happening. Did I expect the orchard, at least as described, to be Angelene’s heritage? Maybe for a nice end to the story … but, truly, change was in the air and Angelene’s needs her own. So I ended okay with the conclusion. (Maybe I’m a pragmatist.) As for Angelene’s happiness or unhappiness, well, unhappiness never occurred to me. (Optimist again.) Talmadge and Caroline have passed and Angelene’s let the orchard go. It’s life and probably as it should be. (Oh, back to pragmatist.)</p>

<p>My husband grew up on a farm in Iowa - beautiful countryside. Both parents are now deceased and the farm divided - for all practical purposes, gone. When he visits family in Iowa, he stops by his parents’ (and grandparents and great-grandparents) gravesites much as Angelene does. Sad but not unhappy. Truly it is as it should be.</p>

[Mary13]

<p>ignatius, you had mentioned the fact that Della saves Angelene in a different context upthread (#27) when you wrote, “Jane gives birth to Angeline but Della gives the girl the gift of life.” I’ve thought about that comment several times, especially when I ponder what appears to be the waste of Della’s life—it’s of course not a waste at all – there is much redemption in that one great (and disobedient) act of hiding Angelene for Talmadge to find.</p>

<p>

@SouthJerseyChessMom

this “landscape”, Will claims, can be urban space.

</p>

<p>I agree. My daughter has said that one of her happiest feelings is the moment the skyline comes into view as she returns from an out-of-town trip. Whatever space is your home, the place where your roots are, can be your “landscape.”</p>

<p>I think Angelene’s loss of her landscape is one of the main reasons the ending feels melancholy. As ignatius wrote, that’s truly as it should be; nonetheless, letting go is sad. But what recourse did Angelene have? There was no way she was going to be able to live on that land and work it alone without a family (or money to hire many hands). </p>

<p>It’s a testament to Talmadge’s perseverance and nurturing abilities that he built so much out of what had only been “two diseased Gravenstein apple trees” (p. 9). Angelene hated when Talmadge began to cut down the trees he could no longer care for, but I wonder if he knew what was coming and this was his way of helping her begin to separate from the land, “the place that bore her.”</p>

[ignatius]

<p>^^^

Behind the cabin, in a basin before the hill, she placed the child. Covered it with sticks, but not so many that it would not be able to breathe. The baby cried, and Della shushed it. He’ll find you, she said. Be quiet. p 200

</p>

<p>The first time I read this I thought of Della’s words as a warning: if you cry, the men will find you. The second time I read it, I thought of Della’s words as reassurance: Be quiet. Talmadge will find you.</p>

<p>

How was it that she had kept there all the afternoon without crying? Or maybe it was that they could not hear her over the other racket. A blessing, he realized now. He crouched down and scooped her up, picked the debris off her, tucked her inside his jacket, near his armpit, his heart for warmth … p 90

</p>

<p>and Talmadge did find her.</p>

<p>

Della diapered the child quickly, fed her without considering when she had done it last, was slow to come if she heard the wails from the open cabin door in the afternoon, if she came at all.</p>

<p>The man was there, after all, to care for her. p 106-7

</p>

<p>and Della continued to trust that Talmadge would “find” Angelene.</p>

<p>Angelene trusts in it, too. Angelene dreams Talmadge - after his death:</p>

<p>

He will stop and look out; will watch her, she knows, until she reaches him.

</p>