Duly Noted
A chronicle of small-town life in Alaska headlines our fall reading selections.
By Blair Kloman, M.A. '94
There's Speedy Joe, who actually does nothing quickly and wears only a red union suit and a wide-brimmed hat (which he won't remove, even for a haircut). There's the school principal, who is also a Roy Orbison impersonator and regales the school crowds with his rendition of "Pretty Woman" at annual fund-raisers. And then there's the local banker who wears Hawaiian shirts to his glass-walled office filled with tropical plants and lava lamps. Add to this lively mix a healthy sampling of optimistic liberals, weathered natives, and outdoor enthusiasts, and you pretty much have the endearing cast of characters who inhabit Haines, Alaska, population 2,400 (not including the moose, bear, and eagles).
One of those all-too-real characters is Heather Vuillet Lende '81, author of If You Lived Here, I'd Know Your Name: News from Small-Town Alaska. Though she's changed her neighbors' names to protect their privacy, the stories she tells are all wonderfully true. Lende is a columnist and obituary writer for her local paper, the Chilkat Valley News, as well as a regular contributor to the Anchorage Daily News, the Christian Science Monitor, and National Public Radio. She writes of her hometown with a straightforward nonchalance that makes her quirky tales seem less outlandish than simply enjoyable.
"This all came about when an editor heard my radio essays on NPR about life in Haines," explains Lende. "So she contacted me and asked if I'd be interested in writing a book. Originally it was going to be a reprint of my essays, but, as things evolved, we both thought it should be a longer book of newer pieces that used my small-town writing experiences as a foundation."
Ninety miles north of Juneau, Haines is a remote southeast Alaskan town that rests amid mountains and glaciers along one of North America's longest fjords. There are no traffic lights or fast-food joints, and all the townspeople collect their own mail at the local post office in a kind of enforced socialization. Travel in and out of Haines is by ferry—weather permitting, which means hardly ever—or by small plane, which entails weaving around cloud-covered mountains in a dangerous game of peek-a-boo. Needless to say, those who settle in Haines are often loath to leave. And yet, despite all this (or perhaps because of it), Haines is touted as a not-to-be-missed Alaskan travel gem: cruise ships visit regularly, Glacier Bay National Park is nearby, and Outside magazine recently listed it as a "dream town."
Lende, however, gives us a refreshingly non-touristy glimpse of small-town daily life. Each chapter is anchored by one of her weekly Chilkat Valley News columns—perfunctorily entitled "Duly Noted." These short and sweet around-town pieces offer a sampling of seemingly random happenings, but as chapter epigraphs they highlight the fact that no news is too weird or too banal to make the grade in Haines. The chapters include broader reflections and reminiscences of the stories and obituaries that Lende has written during her time as a reporter. As you'd expect of such a small town—where she really does know everyone—her columns often celebrate the lives and deaths of friends, so Lende infuses much of her own personal sensibilities to these expanded musings.
"My greater goal with this book, I suppose," says Lende, "is to honor the experience of daily life here in Haines—regular people living in an amazing place. Because the people who really make a difference in our lives aren't always the ones in the news. Those are the people I wanted to capture in this book.
"At the end of the day," adds Lende, "Haines is still far from most places, cold and wet, dark all winter, and hard to get in and out of. Which suits most of us here just fine."
In a masculine embodiment of the wistful lament "always a bridesmaid never a bride," Dan Elish '83 delivers unto us Henry Mann. As the beleaguered protagonist of Nine Wives, Henry's relentless fantasies of marital bliss form the foundation of the story, and each chapter is titled for the woman he pursues—nine women in nine chapters, with a surprisingly hopeful tenth to close the tale.
Henry Mann has been a lonely guest at one too many weddings. In an effort to fast-forward to his own matrimonial march, he enters the dating pool with fierce determination. So fierce, in fact, that within minutes of meeting each of his ensuing dates, he has already imagined their family tree and golden years, not to mention the typeface for their wedding invitations. Naturally, his ardent wooing hits some bumps and turns, and, in the end, Henry learns more about himself as an individual than as part of a happily-ever-after twosome.
Elish, who has published children's books in the past, embarks on this first effort at realistic adult fiction with zeal. "I feel like most modern guys are portrayed these days as anti-marriage and grudging of relationship," he says. "Yet the guys I know are all romantics in their own way. If anything, they're plagued by their own insecurities and high standards." Elish wanted to create a character that felt both honest and real as he navigated the labyrinth of 20-something dating in New York City. "Henry's a regular guy. He just happens to get a little carried away in his fantasies."
As if parents didn't have enough to worry about: Jim Taylor '81 warns that popular culture—in the form of television shows, video games, and the local multiplex—has launched a frontal assault on children's values.
In his book, Your Children Are Under Attack: How Popular Culture Is Destroying Your Kids' Values and How You Can Protect Them, Taylor gives readers a hardened perspective on the pop-culture wave that bombards young people daily in America. The culprits are widespread: video games, television shows, and movies that parade violence and sexuality with alarming nonchalance; professional athletes and celebrities whose bad behavior unfolds daily in papers and magazines; and a consistent barrage of media that value beauty over character, greed over integrity, and materialism over meaning. These are only a few of the culprits he homes in on with razor-sharp fervor as he aggressively declares that, "popular culture can no longer be trusted to act in your children's best interest."
Thankfully, Taylor does not stop there. While it certainly seems that he has ample fuel for his fire, once his key points are made, he chooses instead to focus on productive solutions. Taylor, who is nationally recognized for his work in the psychology of parenting, emphasizes the importance of conversation when introducing new ideas—especially those that involve a change of habits—to young people. He provides plenty of options for taking action, all the while stressing an immediate need to resurrect five core values for children to understand:
Respect is earnedTake responsibility for oneself rather than blame othersSuccess isn't linked to wealth or fameHappiness can't be boughtFamily strengthens America's values
While his direct delivery may feel a bit strident to some, his message seems valid and likely to appeal to a growing audience. One has only to visit the parenting section of any bookstore to find multiple shelves of missives aimed at guiding parents through a world where the impact of mass media has ballooned beyond anything we could have imagined 20 years ago.
While the chubby white-haired Santa is a ubiquitous figure for so many American children, the Snow Maiden is someone entirely new. Gail Buyske '76 hopes to change that with her enchanting children's book, How the Russian Snow Maiden Helped Santa Claus.
The story is written in English but sprinkled with easy-to-pronounce Russian phrases. It tells the tale of an overworked Santa who calls on his Russian counterpart, Father Frost, to ask if his daughter, the Snow Maiden, would come to the North Pole to help out during this busy Christmas season. Frost obliges, and Russian and American holiday customs merge in this delightful story.
Buyske studied Russian at Middlebury and has been a fan of Russian folklore since her first trip to Russia as a student in 1975. When not writing children's stories, she works as director of banks serving micro- and small-business entrepreneurs in Russian-speaking countries. Says Buyske: "Even in the idealism of my undergrad days, I never dreamed I'd be able to combine my interest in Russian language and culture with such fulfilling work."