Faith and Fiction Round Table: Peace Like a River

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It was a pleasure to again participate in the Faith and Fiction Roundtable with a number of other websites and bloggers. This month the subject was Leif Enger’s beautiful novel Peace Like a River (one of my favorites). The discussion is divided up among the different participating websites and blogs. Be sure to work your way around the ‘table’ to read the entire discussion.

My Friend Amy--Introduction
Devourer of Books--Expectations
Wordlily--General Impressions
A Lovely Shore Breeze--Davy Part 1
The Fiddler's Gun--Davy Part 2
Melanie's Musings--Other Characters


Davy Part 2

Hannah: This conversation about Davy (Amy, Caite) is reminding me of Bones. I've been re-viewing the show via Netflix Watch Instantly, and I'm seeing parallels between Reuben's feelings toward Davy and his situation and Brennan's feelings about her father's situation during his murder trial. Sure, she knows he's acted wrongly and deserves to be punished. But that doesn't eliminate her sorrow over the thought that her father might be taken away from her again, as Amy said. There's more to it, but the words are only coming in a jumble right now. I think another piece of this is that in the beginning of the book, Reuben's perspective is that of a child, very absolute, his big brother can do no wrong. Sure, between the lines we see he's troubled and probably not headed down the best path, but I still see him, at least a little bit, through Reuben's black and white eyes.

Melanie: Since we see Davy through Reuben's eyes, he seems like the all-knowing
older brother, but in my mind, Davy's still not quite a man, which helped
me to have more sympathy for him.

Caite: Well, he is a man at the end of the book, and he is still running, still hiding, still, let's face it, not living up to taking responsibility for what he has done. And that has come at a tremendous cost, the life of Reuben/his father. He exposed them to an even greater evil than he tried to save them from.

Gosh, I could very easily talk myself into not liking Davy at all. If it was not for the glow cast by his family's love for him...

Amy: But he also saved Sara and thus introduced Reuben to his wife...if that helps in redeeming him in your eyes. Winking And Jeremiah might not have met Roxana if not for chasing after Davy. So even the hard things people we love bring into our lives can bring unexpected good to us.

Pete: I wonder if the greater illustration isn't that we're all Davy to some extent, pursued in our folly by a father who loves us. Though the law demands satisfaction, we're all, as Francis Thompson would say 'hounded by heaven'. Part of the reason Davy's father is so extraordinary is that he is patient in his pursuit. The author is the same, he pursues his story and his reader with a humble patience that’s regrettably rare in publishing these days. Enger's second novel,
So Brave, Young, and Handsome (also highly recommended) is similar. Patience, and care, and the humble voice of the author is always present.

An appropriate excerpt from Francis Thompson's amazing poem "The Hound of Heaven":

I fled Him down the nights and down the days
I fled Him down the arches of the years
I fled Him down the labyrinthine ways
Of my own mind, and in the midst of tears
I hid from him, and under running laughter.
Up vistaed hopes I sped and shot precipitated
Adown titanic glooms of chasmed fears
From those strong feet that followed, followed after
But with unhurrying chase and unperturbed pace,
Deliberate speed, majestic instancy,
They beat, and a Voice beat,
More instant than the feet:
All things betray thee who betrayest me.

I pleaded, outlaw-wise by many a hearted casement,
curtained red, trellised with inter-twining charities,
For though I knew His love who followed,
Yet was I sore adread, lest having Him,
I should have nought beside.
But if one little casement parted wide,
The gust of his approach would clash it to.
Fear wist not to evade as Love wist to pursue.
Across the margent of the world I fled,
And troubled the gold gateways of the stars,
Smiting for shelter on their clanged bars,
Fretted to dulcet jars and silvern chatter
The pale ports of the moon.

I said to Dawn - be sudden, to Eve - be soon,
With thy young skyey blossoms heap me over
From this tremendous Lover.


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