Small Rocks Rising

In 1929, barely 21 years old, Ruth Farley heads west and claims a homestead in an isolated canyon in Southern California, at that time still the land of rough-and-ready miners and cowboys. What is she looking for? She doesn't quite know, but she knows what she doesn't want - a conventional woman's life of settled domesticity. To her this means she must be totally self-sufficient and independent. Ruth is stubborn, brave, strong, and subject to fits of free-ranging lust that she is not always successful at keeping under control, although she makes weak attempts at it. With 21-year-old chutzpah, she has the delusion that she can spit in the eye of conventional norms for women without paying a high price for it, and she protects this delusion with a cavalier disregard for what people think of her. Part of her delusion is that she can carve out an independent life for herself in an isolated mountain region without the help and support of neighbors, and a major early story line of the book is her stubborn insistence on moving, entirely alone, a boulder that must be removed before she can lay the foundation for her cabin. The boulder could be easily moved with the help of neighbors, or by using a couple of horses and rope to drag it to a new location, but Ruth is determined to do it herself. The story of her struggles with the boulder, and her eventual triumph over it, becomes a metaphor for Everywoman's struggle to achieve independence against overwhelming odds, and any woman who has learned from hard experience that "what doesn't kill us makes us strong" will identify deeply and emotionally with this element of the story.Unfortunately, succeeding at moving the boulder by herself reinforces Ruth's delusion that she doesn't need anybody. The rest of the book is a harrowing account of what she pays for this delusion, coming close to death at the hands of violent men and again at the hands of Nature, and seeing the first true love of her life killed because she is a white woman who has taken an Indian lover. Ultimately, of course, she has to learn to see life, Nature, and people as they really are - complicated, unpredictable, sometimes violent, and sometimes unexplainably compassionate. If the book has a weakness, it is that even though Ruth is complex and multifaceted, some of the other characters are rather flat - her Indian lover Jim, for example, is unbelievably flawless. But in the context of this compelling story, I wasn't bothered much by that. I was much more impressed by Lang's tackling of reality themes I seldom see novelists deal with: a woman struggling with the paybacks of unrestrained lust, for example.True "literary" writing expresses the universal through the particular, and in my view this book may well become a classic parable of what we pay, men as well as women, for defying cultural norms, and what we must do to come to terms with those norms without losing our truest Selves in the process.

Susan Lang does the impossible in her book, Small Rocks Rising. The story is as big, bulky, and unwieldy as the boulder her main character, Ruth Farely, encounters in Chapter One, while the writing is frequently as polished as any gemstone. Amid fast action and female lust, there is the slow revealing of Ruth's background. The complex composition of Ruth's character comes from her half-breed mother, a strong-willed aunt, two years of finishing school, training to be a nurse---and the will to be free of it all. This novel rings with the authenticity of place, and of a woman's unambiguous sexual longings. In Ruth's insightful self-talk and dreaming, there hangs the reality of a woman alone. She is impatient with life and all the people she encounters in her struggle to forge a place for herself in the wilderness. Ruth is an unconventional woman whose thoughts and actions are well ahead of her time. Her courage is matched only by her desires. As the novel reveals Ruth's story, it also reveals a parallel to the male myth of passage, initiation into adulthood. Ruth experiences the trials of being alone in the extremes of nature, life-sapping heat to freezing snowstorms. She also encounters the extremes of the nature of men---violent to tender. She loses her way in the wilderness of the mountains and her own desires to discover she has the resources not only to survive, but to overcome all that nature, and man, has to throw at her. Overall, the novel is a great read. Let's hope there is more.

A time, a place, a person, a community of settlers separated by miles of miles, a philosophy of spirit -- all flow forth in Susan Lang's quiet drama of survival in an untamed wilderness by an untamed woman.Lang obviously knows her landscape of place and soul. She risks and sustains the characterization of a woman beyond her time, yet, within it, allowing her to make the mistakes such a woman could make in the era in which she makes them. The core standard of such a character is that she is better than she has to be while being no better than she needs to be, according to her own dictates.The absolute strength of Lang's writing is her own intercourse with the mysterious and magnificent sensuality of comprehending a wilderness of land and being. She understands tiny things that, for her, and now for her readers, loom large.

The only thing I didn't love about this book is the fact that it kept me up late at night until I finished it. The writing just puts me right there, as if I'm watching it the way I would a movie, encountering bears and cowboys myself. I loved Ruth, too, the main character and enjoy her stubborn ways, even when she's finding out she has to change-which she does in some way, though not at her core. I like the way Lang has her trying to force her will on the land until she learns that the place has a spirit "stronger than that of a person." I only hope the author has another book around somewhere so I can find out what happens to Ruth next!

Susan Lang's Small Rocks Rising should take its rightful place alongside masterpieces like Mari Sandoz' Old Jules and Wallace Stegner's Angle of Repose, tales of those stubborn pioneers who were nearly beaten down by the harsh and arid plains of the West. Lang has even doubled the ordeal, and doubled the triumph, by making her homesteader a lone woman who is determined to take possession of her land on her own terms, fiercely facing down the men who would patronize or use or diminish her. The novel celebrates the courage of such a woman, liberating herself step by step by integrating her own strength of mind and her sexuality, and refusing to be crushed by the terrible violence that searches her out.