Danny Gospel

Because I have this perfectly good blogspot home that isn't seeing any use, I've decided to make it my new place to talk about and review books. (Also, if you notice at the bottom of my page, you'll find my book-related links; if you don't like what I have to say, at least you can read articles you might find interesting.) Enough of this. Into the first bookish post.

Over the weekend, I went to the Festival of Faith and Writing, hosted by Calvin College. It was a blast. I had never been in a place where every person, it seemed, was interested in talking about books. Several authors were at the festival, some whom I'd read, others whom I hadn't (and now want to). One of the authors I hadn't read was David Athey. After going to his session "How to Write a Novel in Eighteen Years," I bought his eighteen-year novel, Danny Gospel.

Danny Gospel tells the story of the "Gospel family," so named because of their traveling gospel band in the Midwest. Though audiences love their music and view them as an upstanding Christian family, the family members are divided on issues of faith. Danny's grandmother and father have particularly polarizing views and can be seen arguing almost every time they are together in the book.

The book follows the character Danny, a brand of "holy fool" akin to Don Quixote, Ignatius Reilly, or even Napoleon Dynamite. Essentially, he is a character at odds with the world. The world has a view of what a person should be, and Danny is completely different. He says over and over again that all he wants is a "normal happy life," but the reader is left to wonder if anything like this is possible for Danny; even if he were to have what others deem a "normal happy life," such a thing seems like it may be torture for Danny.

Danny's "foolishness" manifests itself in a number of ways: following divining mosquitos, traipsing through fields late at night, trying to faith-heal a car engine. The reader--especially the reader of faith--is in a dilemma in terms of how to feel about Danny. On the one hand, his expectations of faith seem ridiculous. But on the other hand, isn't it possible for God to work in such ways?

Complicating matters is Danny's own neuroses. His is a life beset by tragedy. Over the years, one by one (and, in some cases, more than one at a time) his family members die, those he cares about leave, and things happen that further isolate Danny from society and the "normal happy life" he wants so much. Once again, the reader feels for the character and wishes Danny the best that is possible, but the best that is possible may not be what Danny is seeking. (The tale follows Danny as he searches for a woman he envisions who kisses him in the night.)

The story ends abruptly and leaves questions unanswered, but this is not necessarily a bad thing. I was angry at first that my own expectations for Danny's life and how the novel should end were not fulfilled. Upon further reflection, I am not so upset (though I wish the novel had given more definite closure). It has me speculating on what really happens to Danny Gospel.

This leads me to talk about some of the interesting aspects of how the novel is written. The novel is told non-linearly, akin to Slaughterhouse-Five (though not as artful as Vonnegut, I would argue). This allows for a gradual revelation of facts of the situation Danny finds himself in. Also, what is interesting about Danny Gospel is that it takes the character of the fool and places him at the absolute center, so everything is viewed through him.

Let me explain: I mentioned Don Quixote and A Confederacy of Dunces earlier. In both of these works, the author uses the third-person perspective to describe the "fool." Using this method, the stark, iconoclastic attributes of the character against his environment are more clearly seen. The difference is even more poignant because the character is seemingly unaware of the social norms around him. Don Quixote, as it were, doesn't seem to get the memo that chivalry is dead. Ignatius Reilly doesn't understand that a master's in English does not hand over the keys to the Kingdom. Danny Gospel, in contrast, uses the first-person perspective. This is an interesting deviation, but the grating of the character against his culture is not quite as vivid as the other works mentioned. The first-person perspective does offer some benefits, though. It makes it easier for us to care for and sympathize with Danny Gospel. It also allows us to know what he's thinking more readily (or what he thinks he's thinking). However, since the character is a little off his rocker, the effect comes across, at times, like The Sound and the Fury, where it's hard to make any sense of what he's relating.

The quality of the writing in Danny Gospel is very good. There are a few jarring phrases here and there, but they are mostly explaining gaps that a predominately Christian-bookstore audience is unused to (e.g., in one instance a character inserts a descriptor in dialogue that would almost never be spoken [something like, "Did you hear world-famous evangelist Billy Graham on the radio?"]).

To conclude, the novel deals with themes of faith, forgiveness, and following God (three F's? there may be a sermon in this), and it treats these themes using unconventional means. There are some very powerful and poignant images that readers will remember long after they've finished the novel, which is one of the marks of a good book--it refuses to be forgotten.