Round Blog: The Whistling Season and our longing for those simpler times

Melville: I know my comments lately have relied heavily on reader response for this blog and that trend is going to continue yet again today because, frankly, I adore this book. Ivan Doig's "The Whistling Season" was a treat to read. I love any novel that not only celebrates the art of teaching but ALSO manages to allude to Yugoslavians (some of the kids in the school were Slavs -- and frankly, this is the first book I've read in about five years that actually mentions anything remotely related to my Slovenian heritage)!

With that said, Doig is a master of regional literature. He so effortlessly captures a sense of place with turn of the century Montana -- a land of homesteads, open sky, and men with big dreams. To show us this place from a child's perspective also helps make Montana seem like a wondrous adventure -- from the daring backwards horse race to the marvels of a snow day. The older voice of the narrator effectively unmasks the unhappy truth that these small towns are slowly withering away and giving in to the pressures of a globalized (and, consequently, a homogenized) world. The narrator leads us to the conclusion that we must look back and treasure our gifts from the past.

My favorite character, and I'm sure my fellow "Bookers" will agree is Morrie -- the former crooked boxing manager who turns into a master one-room schoolteacher. His scenes in the classroom motivate me to be a better teacher and to want to bring that sense of vast possibilities of life back to my (mostly) already-worldly students. Doig cleverly set the plot of this novel as the same year as Halley's Comet appearance -- 1910. Morrie himself is like the comet, a brilliant visitor who flies through and sparks new life into the community, and disappears just as quickly. After all, what student wouldn't like a teacher who so comfortably fits in among scholars and schoolyard boys? I thought it was very clever that this Latin-spouting, Spat wearing, mustacchioed Morrie was also a man who can slip on a pair of brass knuckles to fight. What a teacher!

Anyway, before I talk about how much I wish Morrie was a flesh and blood man...I better turn this conversation over to Shelley.

Your thoughts Shelley?

Shelley: Great comparison of Morrie to the comet, which, until you so beautifully pointed out, I hadn't really put together. I also think the comet bears some significance in relation to Doig's perspective about memory, which is obviously inextricably bound with the past. Like the comet, the older Paul describes memory as being "magical" and "faithful," and exuding "radiance": "The Rembrandt light of memory, finicky and magical and faithful at the same time, as the cheaper tint of nostalgia never is. Much of the work of my life has been to sort instruction from illusion, and, in the endless picture gallery behind the eye, I have learned to rely on a certain radiance of a detail to bring back the exactitude of a moment" (152). Although viewing the comet (which I remember doing as a wee kindergartner) is vivid and impressionable, it does happen quickly and sparsely (like every 75 years). Such an experience is a memory in itself, but it also mimics the general experience we have while remembering a moment--certain parts are vivid and detailed, while most of the occurrence surrounding the details we remember are not (similar to the many dreams/nightmares Paul has growing up); at the same time, despite the more "illusive" parts of it, aspects of the experience and soon-to-be memory--essentially, our past--hugely influence the rest of our lives.

And this brings me to one of the most significant themes of The Whistling Season: the experience of our past as children growing up--and more particularly, the memory of that experience (the feelings and emotions associated with it)--greatly shape who we are for the rest of our lives, during the time in which we are "being introduced to ourselves" (5). This may seem like an obvious statement, but, as Melville mentions, Doig is a beautiful regional writer; as such, he emphasizes the importance of place--specifically, the schoolhouse--in the significance of our experience, the memory of that experience, and then the ultimate construction of who we are and how we contribute to society as adults because of that experience and memory. The happenings of the country school is not only central to the novel, but it is central to all of the students' lives: because they live so far apart on their homesteads and such, the school is not only where they learn their subjects, but it is also where they learn to socially interact, and become educated about the morals enveloped within such interaction. Take Eddie, for instance: without the aid of his experience at school, there would be no doubt he'd end up with the same destructive and selfish tendencies of his dangerous father; it would be difficult for him to know differently. Although his circumstances might not prevent Eddie from following in his father's footsteps, Doig stresses the beneficial effect the schoolhouse has had on this apparent bully: he sways his father to not beat up (kill?) Morrie because doing so would be unfair and illogical. In this way, Doig not only celebrates the actual place of the schoolhouse, but the leader within it (a leader who affects Eddie in such a way): "All points of the plains: without my ever having said a word to him about it, Morrie was conjuring paths beneath the paths that had arrived to my eyes back there at the schoolhouse pump" (127). Like Paul, the reader's eyes, or perspective, are led to the importance of the schoolhouse and the teacher within it. Consequently, Doig honors the significance of being educated at a school, as well as the monumental power and impact teachers hold; but, as older Paul's title as school inspector implies, Doig is concerned about how society is progressing, perhaps about the loss of memory in relation to a time long since past, or the loss of a simplified life and place which could shape individuals so beautifully. What do other readers of this text think? Paul is obviously remembering his education and how his beliefs were shaped, but is he worried about the future of education, progression, or a loss of place (as emphasized by the older Paul's point of view)?

Like Paul, I remember moments of my childhood schooling in extreme detail, and can see how it has contributed to my present self. Like Paul and Doig, I also remember the beautiful region that is Montana: "the pesky...whistling" (1) wind that would wake me in the summer mornings, a "homestead etiquette" (97) that most citizens abide by, the ever-present dust following fields of wildflowers and green meadows, and the starriest, clearest skies I've ever seen. Now, as someone experiencing and greatly enjoying Montana summers throughout her entire life, these memories might be more nostalgic in nature, however true they really are. One thing is for certain: Doig captures how beautiful simple homestead (family) life can be and was in the American West, with all of the Millirons' sorrows, struggles, and complications. They are intelligent, honest, mature, and caring natives of the country, not slow hillbillies or backcountry neanderthrals. Like the land they inhibit, and like the pace of the novel, the Millirons nurture and embrace their simple, faithful, magical, and radiant lives.

Your thoughts, Wollstonecraft?

Wollstonecraft: I mostly agree with my fellow bookers. My favorite character was Morrie and I found his character inspiring. Today, because we all experience so much media and so much of the world through the internet and television, it is hard to feel that wonder he created in his students for the comet. I think most teachers can agree that it seems harder and harder to get students amazed by anything because they have seen so much already. Even though the lights of the city block out the stars, they can go online and see pictures of the Milky Way. They can watch Gladiator and gain a version of history more exciting than the one I can tell them. Our visual media and wealth of information take away from our ability to give students something they’ve never seen before. And, I think this can be applied to adults as well; we all live in such a “seen it” age, it is harder to find that sense of wonder in our everyday lives. And, in this sense the book made me nostalgic for a piece of that “simple” past.

However, once I realized I like my right to vote, I like that more kids have a chance at education, and I like running water, I no longer feel nostalgic for the past.

Though, for the most part, I did enjoy reading the book, I felt torn about Doig’s longing for this era. The book champions these one-room school houses as a piece of not just the character’s past but that of America, and a piece that we need to remember. However, the problems of this nostalgia that bubble under the surface are left unexplored. Although Morrie was ultimately able to diffuse Eddie’s violence, the fact that it existed points to a problem with this kind of simple past: the lack of access to a quality education and knowledge. Before Morrie, the students were not getting that great of an education and many of the students will just be recycled through the small town. And, the lack of education produces the ignorance and violence of Eddie’s father. With the simple life of the past also come the problems of the past: ignorance, racism, inequality, etc. The only female character in the novel was the “perfect” Rose: charming, sweet, pretty, but oh so stupid. I may be taking the book too seriously, but I couldn’t help but feel annoyed that part of her charm that captured all the men in the novel was that she was a little bit stupid.

Doig also seems to vacillate between advocating the simple life of the “honest laborer” and supporting a life of the mind, or the intellectual. And, I do not think the book decides if there is a “better” way; perhaps he seems to say we need to appreciate both. (The book felt like it was written by an intellectual who wanted to find “real” life in the hard-working small town citizen.)

That said, I liked how the book criticized the education system today. Our schools are in no way perfect, and the current obsession with standards and statistics is diverting attention away from the real problems in our system (as Doig demonstrates in the novel). The book begins and ends as we enter this era of standardized testing, which comes with a different set of issues. We label all changes as "progress" without really understanding if this progression is any more effective. I also think it is interesting how he criticizes the unfortunate relationship between politics and education; the narrator is superintendent during the cold war where “science will be king, elected by panic.” And, the loss of the schoolhouse the narrator feels is all the more poignant with such a terrible setting as the McCarthy era.

However, education is only a small piece in the complex experience of Paul, our narrator. He is coming of age, and the book shows how seemingly small moments impact us and our characters forever, as Shelley has already discussed. More than anything this book is about childhood, the confusion inherent in growing up, the wonder at new adventures, the realization that adults aren’t always what they seem, the feeling that this moment will change the rest of your life—everything that comes with discovering where you fit in, which transcends the place and time of the novel. In a sense, even though times have changed, “childhood is the one story that stands by itself in every soul.”

Lastly, looking back through my notes, I wonder how nostalgic the book is meant to be about the past. I am always skeptical of hoping for the “good old days” (unless I was a white rich male), and there are moments in the text that show perhaps Doig is too. It is always dangerous to wish for previous moments in times of nostalgia because we gloss over too many of the problems and only see the good. We tend to romanticize these moments, which skews the reality of it.

Overall, I thought it was prettily written, though I wish he further explored some of his themes. For me, it is hard to long for the days Doig writes about, though I see the value of them as a piece of our history. I am too much of the information, blogging and Facebook age to really wish to live in the time and place he writes about.