<p>You’re right, that’s the problem not having the book in front of me. Your comments make much more sense now! I’ll be at the library later today, I should see if it’s back!</p>
<p>Yes, I would have liked to see more of Maggie. Over and over again Della seems to abandon the people who are a positive influence in her life (Talmadge, Cree, Maggie and even Angelene’s apricots.)</p>
<p>I agree, and Della’s relationship with Maggie illustrates this point so well. Della bonds with one person, Jane, and that relationship is terminated with the suicide. Della is abused early and seemingly left with an inability to form lasting bonds in the way that kittens separated from their mother, orphaned too young, or improperly weaned, do not become fully domesticated pets. I just think she is permanently damaged, and not capable, psychologically, likely because of the trauma and abuse of her childhood, of forming a normal human bond. She’s locked in a frozen zone. But does she grasp this? I think there are hints of a slight thaw at the end in her attempts at a conversation with Angelene, but ultimately her death puts an end to the whole Della story. </p>
<p>Contrast with Talmadge, who also suffers the early traumatic loss but without the abuse. He’s able to reach out to a small but definite few people to carry on with his life as a loving person. Same with Angelene. She has an even smaller circle of human contact than Talmadge, even isolation, but has no direct experience with abuse or the trauma Della saw; rather, she’s got the love of Caroline and Talmadge. </p>
<p>Poor Della is permanently scarred, and her interaction with every character shows this.</p>
<p>mathmom:“… and even Angelene’s apricots.” LOL</p>
<p>I don’t know that Della understands the concept “friend” … she has never had one. Michaelson’s girls can not be trusted as friends - a basic need to survive and cope with horrors precludes friendship. Della has Jane for support and, in some small way, protection in that evil setting. She can be considered fortunate, which says something about how hard life must be for the other girls. Later, Della has Caroline Middey and Angelene - one too old for friendship and one, too young. Both place demands on her that she can’t meet: Angelene needs care and Caroline Middey hopes Della will provide it. </p>
<p>Maggie P offers Della female companionship, the first since Jane died. Della used to sleep next to Jane. Reserved and baffled by Maggie P during the day, Della relaxes her guard when asleep. (Certainly she can’t do the same on the trail with unknown men or alone in the woods.)</p>
<p>I think maybe Maggie P plays a part in Della’s story to allow a time of respite from her hardships and as a glimpse at a failed opportunity. We learn from each of Della’s encounters that she’s missing something that allows her to move in a positive direction.</p>
<p>I think it’s sad, and truthfully somewhat uncomfortable, to reflect that of all Della’s relationships, at the end, the one cord she can’t cut ties her to Michaelson.</p>
<p>*I just took time to read the posts from yesterday. Interesting the different “landscapes” represented.</p>
<p>I read several places online that sexual abuse involving a father figure generally causes more long-term damage than any other kind (such as, for example, an isolated incident of abuse by a stranger). From one website:</p>
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<p>The little girls in Michaelson’s house called him “Pa” (<strong>shudder</strong>). The relationship between survivor and perpetrator must have been complex indeed. Also—this may sound strange, but I hope not offensive—Michaelson’s attitude toward Della is one more rejection for her. It is Jane that he is obsessed with; he doesn’t care for Della and scarcely remembers her:</p>
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<p>She is infuriated. She wants to be remembered by this monster, but her identity is one more things he robs from her.</p>
<p>I think I’m explaining myself poorly and need an expert. psychmom, where are you??</p>
<p>Mary, I think you explained yourself well. I agree. Michaelson’s abuse haunted Della and defined her. He robbed her of her identity and her life.</p>
I kept hoping there was some way to reach Della, but basically she was broken. Nothing could fix her. So ultimately I was left pretty depressed by the book, even if Angelene seems to have a fine life (though we hear little about it). </p>
<p>The title implies the story is about Talmadge, and perhaps it is, but Della was such a vivid character, and Talmadge was in comparison so lifeless, and Angelene was barely filled out at all, that I invested my interest in Della and so it was particularly hard when she did not get her happy ending, but remained haunted by her childhood experiences.</p>
I felt that her later encounter with Michaelson was one opportunity in her life where her self-destructive trajectory could have been changed. If he had recognized her, acknowledged her, been sorry or repentant. </p>
<p>That said, I think where Talmadge failed in fathering the girls was in not really addressing the Michaelson issue with them. Obviously they needed therapy, which would not have been forthcoming in 1900, but he and Caroline could have worked with them to stress the need to live a life in repudiation of Michaelson and to help them find that path. It seems as if they were almost just observers of the course of the girl’s lives rather than active participants.</p>
<p>I have a question about Caroline. What was the story of the young girl who lived with her? We never heard the whole story, unless I snoozed through it… Was it a child, a partner, an apprentice? It was another untold story of many in the Orchardist.</p>
<p>I agree, but I think the concept of therapy would have been so alien in those days, and the issue of child sexual abuse so taboo, that they wouldn’t know the first thing about how to address the subject. So I can’t really blame Talmadge or Caroline Middey on that score. I also think the hard life of the West led to a fatalist approach toward life. Early on in the book, Caroline Middey says, “Who has a childhood, she often said, in these parts? When one was born, death was right there waiting for you, right there in the room” (p. 21).</p>
<p>No, we never do hear the whole story of Caroline Middey’s apprentice—only a suggestion that she loved her deeply. I don’t think there is much doubt that Caroline Middey was gay: “…Caroline Middey felt herself too old for Talmadge, romatically speaking, and was totally uninterested in his sex” (p. 23).</p>
<p>The author writes “At one time people thought they were courting, but that was never the case.” I wouldn’t expect any great scandal as a result of Talmadge’s overnight visits. My sense is that the West did not have the Victorian sensibilities of the “civilized” East. So much of the settling of the West was about survival: finding food, shelter, companionship–and letting certain conventions go by the board.</p>
<p>I was really rooting for Della. I found myself really emotionally invested in what happend to her. I admired Talmadge but wasn’t as interested in his story. I think he and Caroline went way above and beyond what would be expected of them in regard to Della and Angelene. They took on the role of parents when they were really not required to.
I still have the question if Della and Jane were Talmadge’s nieces though. How was it that they chose him and the orchard-observation of his kindness or some knowledge passed down by their mother?</p>
<p>PATheaterMom, the clues that you and sylvan8798 have found about the possibility of Della and Jane being Talmadge’s nieces are very intriguing: their destination of the orchard; the emphasis on dark hair; twins running in families; the choice of Angelene for the baby’s name…it does make you wonder. </p>
<p>If the timing had been right, I would have hypothesized that Elsbeth ran away because she was pregnant (with Jane)—that’s the only reason I can think of that she might feel she needed to leave Talmadge without a word. However, the dates don’t line up at all for that scenario. Elsbeth disappeared in 1865 at age 17. Della and Jane are approximately 15 and 16 in 1900. That would put their birth dates around 1884-85, when Elsbeth would have been 36 or 37 – pretty old to be bearing children back in those days, but not impossible.</p>
<p>^^^ I think the girls get lucky with Talmadge. It has nothing to do with his sister, who I believe met an early and untimely death. The orchards (food) draw the girls, not the man. They recognize a safe haven in Talmadge and his orchard, at least Jane does:</p>
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<p>Talmadge is one of the few willing to give whatever and expect nothing in return. </p>
<p>I wonder if readers who invest in Della and “root for” her - as PATM did - find the book more melancholy than readers who don’t. I might have liked an end to the story in which Della returns to live in the orchard not-unhappily-ever-after but I never, ever believed it would happen. I think the modicum of awareness and safety/contentment Della finds while in prison and after the death of Michaelson is at good as it gets. I quoted a line - post #26 - that sums up why I somehow bypassed the sorrows in the book: “Angeline’s happy upbringing represents an end to the line of damaged lives.” At the end, even Della recognizes the good that’s come into their lives: </p>
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<p>Not a sad or melancholy ending really for me.</p>
<p>^ ignatius, your post made me think of BUandBC82’s earlier comment:</p>
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<p>Della does see Jane in Angelene, but only up to a point:</p>
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<p>That’s how the book felt to me—a happy ending, but only up to a point. There is understanding, redemption, love, but no tidy solutions or exuberant over-the-moon happiness. That’s okay. Life is often like that.</p>
<p>The importance of identity seems to be a major theme in the novel. Jane and Della really have no surname—Della says to Michaelson: “I’m named after you. You gave me your name! I can’t even remember my other name!” (p. 295).</p>
<p>Although we know Tallmadge’s first name (William), he is known only as “Tallmadge” throughout the entire book. It’s as if those who are haunted or broken by the past have only one name, reflecting how a piece of them is missing. Note that Caroline Middey and Clee, probably the two most “together” characters in the novel, both have two names: “The only child constant from the beginning was the nephew of the Nez Perce leader, a boy known to Talmadge and Elsbeth as Clee; he had another, private name used only among the men” (p. 10).</p>
<p>Why do you think the wrangler had no name at all? He certainly deserved one. He acts as interpreter for Clee, helps carry the sick girls back to Talmadge, fetches Caroline Middey when needed, teaches Della to ride a horse, watches over her when she travels to auction with the men, reminds the men when it’s Angelene’s birthday, and plays a key role in the misguided plan to free Della. It’s as if he is some sort of nameless guardian angel, who shadows and assists the other characters.</p>
<p>good question ** Mary ** ? I’m curious what others have to say about unnamed " wrangler".</p>
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<p>Clearly, Michaelson’s abuse affected Della, but I wonder if Della felt betrayed by Jane, when Jane planned their double suicides. For Jane that act was one of " empowerment" in a tragic, sad way, but that act was not one of empowerment for Della. It wasn’t her choice. </p>
<p>Della’s dependence on Jane, made me question Della’s " mental competency" at times.
So, perhaps, Della, could never trust anyone, if even her beloved protector,Jane, couldn’t be trusted. </p>
<p>I agree, that Caroline, may have been gay, and also, wonder about Della. When she cut her hair, she " looked more like a boy than ever" and there was a comment about her small,but manlike hands. </p>
<p>regarding the first and last name comments, made above, I forgot who Maggie was, and recently reread that chapter, and therefore remember this.
Maggie’s last name was Peabody, was referred to as Maggie P. ( no idea of significance just pointing that out)</p>
<p>I have been trying to figure out why this novel didn’t resonate with me…the lack of “happy” events doesn’t explain it. In fact, I just finished reading a very sad book (*Afterwards, * by Rosamund Lupton) which I enjoyed. I think my lack of passion has to do with the level of emotional disconnection…while it is interesting to have flawed characters, the communication (between characters and within) felt stilted to me. I guess I wanted to know more and kept wanting the book to go in a different direction (for example, I wanted the interaction between Jane and Della to continue). I agree Talmadge’s death was done beautifully and there were many touching moments.</p>
<p>Psychmom, I agree. I feel bad that I have had so little to say about this book. I didn’t hate it, it just left me feeling very “blah” and unengaged.</p>
<p>The Orchardist is certainly not a bad book. Bad books are fun to rag on! So are very adept and ambitious books that are not without flaws. But somehow this book…with its wordy but often vague imagery, and its laconic (or even mute) characters…just muzzled me.</p>
<p>^ I am rarely muzzled, which perhaps you’ve noticed :). I would never expect each book we read to have the same level of appeal for everyone. Some discussions take off and some don’t; that’s not a problem.</p>
<p>Generally, I avoid reading the negative Amazon reviews, but I glanced through them and enjoyed this one: </p>
<p>“One of the first reviews I read about this book likened it to an old folk song. I find that to be accurate and now I know that I don’t like old folk songs.”</p>
<p>LOL, fair enough! Although I really liked the book, I will agree it is not for everyone. However, I do think that The Orchardist was a valuable addition to our repertoire because it was yet another style for us to explore. I love how different our selections have been.</p>
<p>On that note, feel free to put those wide-ranging tastes to work and come up with suggestions for our next book.</p>