The Bridge of San Luis Rey

Historical novels are a tricky business.  I generally love the history part and the novel part.  My point of differentiation is the sub-topic chosen as the background for these parts.  Along side the philosophically introspective Bridge book, this month, I read a rousing, adventuresome British sea-going tale of the 17^th century titled, “A Ship for the King”, by Richard Woodman.

OK, it’s personal evaluation, but I set up several dichotomies: London, England, Charles, Cromwell versus Lima, Peru; the lengthy examinations of moral values and human ethics so popular three centuries ago, thoughts now drowned out by the hedonism of the 21^st century versus conversations on buntlines and clewlines, winds, and tides, which still evoke the macho battle between man and the elements. 

OK, yes, I was in my eighth grade “Our Town” play presentation, and even then we thought it was pretty dated.  [senility thought – if I were still in school, I’d be graduating from the 68^th grade!]  Whereas, we might see a “Pirates of the Caribean-LXVIII before I die, if anybody still teaches Latin counting.  OK, so adventure trumps religious contemplation; point for the ship.  But what about the love story in each?  The Ship book’s female scenes suck!  An undescribed loveless marriage, and an unconsumated shipboard flirtation.  That’s it, so Bridge had an open field, but it also sucked with all that old “please leave it on the pedestal” unrequited love garbage.  I mean I guess that crap was our 1950’s equivalent of twin beds for married couples and transitions to a blackened screen and then a “the next day” sign.  “Ship” didn’t even try and “Bridge” just did more ad nauseum hand-wringing.  So no points on either side for love story: still  1 – 0  for the Ship.

Now I’ve got to think hard about the historical background plotline, as this is where the historical novelist can overcome all other shortcomings and dominate the reading with fascinating, but true {maybe} vignettes and colorful depictions of characters representative of the era being described.  Of  recent books I’ve read, this is true of “On the Road to Las Cruces” by Pat Nolan, and certainly of the whole of Jason Goodwin’s “Investigator Yashim” series; and likewise Isabel Allende’s “Island Beneath the Sea”.  These are examples of what I search for in an historical novel: compelling characters; thorough research into the historical period; and a knack for telling a good story.

Russell Banks wrote the foreword to this edition and urged us, the readers, to appreciate the book as an étude in old style writing, specifically the moral fable.  Yeah, well maybe for a college student studying in the Arts, this is cute and historically interesting, but of late, I’ve seen too much published with the marketing flag of “Classic”.  The “Test of Time”: yes, books must pass the test of time.  And when looking at older historical novels, an attribute that cedes points these days is historical research.  The digital age has changed novelistic research so much in the past two decades.  Thus I give the Ship a full point, but the Bridge only a half point on its merits in telling a good story.

Overall, I would give “Bridge” a three out of ten.