In the Hope of Rising Again

This is a very stylish and very moving family epic that is of significant historical interest. I found myself thoroughly gripped by the fortunes of Regina Riant as we follow her life from Civil War through the Depression along with a cast of intriguing characters - most notably Regina's feckless brothers. Having never visited the South, I felt that this book evoked a very strong sense of place. Despite the historical range of the book, the reader is always stays close to the central chacarters and their story. There is a lot of depth to this story of love and loss and faith - a powerful and gripping book that I would strongly recommend and one that I believe would have appealed to the grand dame of Southern fiction, Flannery O' Connor.

I came away from this impressive first work reminded of the idea that great men seldom have great sons. _In the Hope of Rising Again_ paints a comical portrait of the idle rich in the main character's four interchangeable brothers (who apparently really existed in the author's family tree). Their formulaic letter-writing, their stale cigarette ashes left around the pool table in mostly empty glasses of whiskey, and their perfunctory late-in-life marriages to older women made them more tangible to me than any of the other characters. The second theme that stood out was the often-explored role of women in a male-dominated society. Living in a culture that tells women, "You are who you marry," our main character, Regina Riant, is different in that she inherited her station in life, as well as an unusual amount of practical education, from her benevolent father. Predating World War II and Rosie the Riveter, would Regina have been any better at running the family newspaper business than her playboy brothers? We'll never know, but we suspect the answer is yes. At the same time, her hare-brained attempts at earning an income during the Great Depression provide an example of what can happen when an intelligent, educated mind is never put to use in the workplace. Overall I found the writing pleasant to read but subdued. Certainly it's a credit to the author that I kept turning the pages, thinking that _something_ was about to happen. In fact, quite a bit happened, but each major event read more like a road hump than a crescendo. And Scully leaves us with a few stones still unturned: Why did Regina's mysterious house guest Louisa "glare" at her alleged mother's portrait? And what really became of Regina's Asian suitor? Perhaps these are loose ends to be tied up in another work. Let's "hope" so :-)

Helen Scully's "Hope" is an epic slice-of-life novel that spans three generations of a family that you get to know and enjoy. It starts with Colonel Riant, a man so industrious that he (and his resources), will carry the whole family forward almost for the whole novel. His kindness, goodness, and strength (which found their way into his daughter), also help the family face the trials and tribulations of their lives and times. I can almost forgive the old Confederate for going around with a walking stick that was partially made from the bone of a Yankee because he was such a loyal family man (a true romantic); he was also a friend to everyone, and he was just plain decent. He is the kind of man us guys would all want to be like (except for that walking stick thing). This is a family that you can really put your arms around. You are saddened by the fact that the strength of the Colonel does not find a path to his sons and the family fortunes wind down as circumstances take their toll. The Colonel's daughter is such a nice person, such a devout practicing Catholic, routinely going to Mass, but not just that, also opening her home to distant relatives, being such a loyal friend, holding everything together, whatever it takes, no matter what happens. The story takes place during an age of innocence that is delightful for us to escape to, away from our 911 world if only for as long as it takes for us to read a book. But it is also the time of the Great depression, and this book helps us to live through that along with this family, and to watch them cope through economic disaster, heart wrenching losses, and regular calamities. It is realistic too, as you can see how the depression wears down some of the people while others struggle to find better ways to cope. My Grandparents were "of age" during this period and it was fun for me to get a clear view into that time period. There is hope in the story, and when it comes to fruition, it comes as a surprise, and yet the surprise is believable because it had been masterfully foreshadowed. And, I won't give it away.

I'll dispense with the summary of the novel (others have done it justice) and proceed with my impressions. I tend to put fiction works into one of three categories. There are the greats, the classics. In southern literature, these are typified by the works of William Faulkner and his modern comparable, Cormac McCarthy. These works pierce the heart of human experience and transcend time by painting unforgettable pictures of real people failing and thriving in the face of real hardship. But it is the insights into the soul of humanity that divide the reader's mind distinctly between the time before and after absorbing the works of these masters. A step down, but only barely, we find authors like John Irving, who offer us brilliant characters in the midst of more plot-driven stories. The prose is more accessible, but not necessarily more pedestrian. We come away from these works as emotionally impacted as entertained. Readers will know of these authors long after they have expired. And then there's everything else - the works of the Kings, the Grishams, the Clancys, the Koontz, and on and on. Their books are amusement first, literature second. The plot drives the language and the pace. While there is a place for these works in the world of fiction, they are fleeting. There is no point in rereading, for there are countless others to digest. Reading these books is like going to the movies. So where does Miss Scully's novel fit into this admittedly simplified literary heirarchy? I can confidently say that "In the Hope of Rising Again" is safely exempted from membership in the latter category. Its prose is too pretty, and its characters are too real. The story gives way to the personalities that are revealed skillfully with grace and subtlety. But is it a classic? It's too soon to tell. I have only recently closed the book without a bookmark, and the impact has yet to fully sink in. My suspicion, however, is that it will not surpass the mark. But this is no cause for concern. That Scully's work is firmly installed alongside the likes of the creator of Owen Meaney is an admirable achievement. That it is the first novel of woman still in her twenties is enviable and enticing at the same time. I have high hopes for her maturity and anxiously await her next offering.

The heroine of Helen Scully's impressive debut is a conventional daughter of the aristocratic South who possesses a quiet strength, held mostly in reserve. The novel opens with Regina Riant's marriage to Charles Morrow in 1919, after her beloved father's death, and the couple's temporary removal from Mobile, Alabama, to rural Choctaw Bluff, 80 miles away, so that Charles can liquidate some of his lumber business to build them a house in Mobile. The isolation and boredom soon take their toll on Regina. She craves attention from Charles, but he's increasingly preoccupied, though he tells her nothing, saying only, " `Things might take longer than I originally thought.' ...She had heard him say this so many mornings, her worry evolved into a silent panic she tried to ignore, though not always with success." Then pregnancy gives her an excuse to send for Camilla, her black maid, who has been with the family for years. With Camilla, as with no one else, she can share her discontent, as well as the long, empty hours. These first chapters establish Regina as a woman of her time and place. Very much aware of what is expected of her, she presents a confident, cheerful demeanor to her new husband, repressing any doubts. And as the years pass, Regina remains faithful to this ideal and convention of womanhood, a pose that both sustains and hinders her. It gives her a face to present to the world in times of tragedy or embarrassment or consternation, and it leaves her utterly unprepared for her family's financial reversals or her husband's desperation. As Regina finally escapes back to Mobile (leaving Camilla behind to close up the cabin), the novel drops back in time, to the recent past; her father's long decline, and her own first crucial choice as an adult. Her father, though he had served as a lieutenant in the Civil War, is known as the Colonel, a mark of respect in a place where the glory of the Confederacy is revered without question. Grown wealthy as owner of the city's daily newspaper, he dotes on his only daughter, his gracious paternalism extending like an umbrella over the family and even the servants. As Camilla reflects: "There were good whites and there were bad whites." She recalls how the Colonel sent flowers to her daughters' weddings and paid for her doctor visits and her eyeglasses. And: "Regina and her brothers stood in the sun all dressed in black outside the funeral of her mother, Amelia, to hug and kiss her cheek as she left the church." Regina's mother upholds the family standards. "According to Mother Riant, there was to be no returning to the house at unseemly hours, no throat clearing, no voice raising, no sitting while a woman stood. There was to be no lending or borrowing, no bad breath, betting or blaspheming, no smoking in the dining room or front porch, no adjusting clothes in public, no eating while in motion. No detail of graciousness went overlooked, no chance at attentiveness went unseized, no than-you notes unwrit