CloudsplitterRussell Banks
It would perhaps take only a novel of epic proportions to even attempt to do justice to John Brown, a central figure in the American pantheon, for better or for worse. Banks does justice to the great anti-slavery martyr and, more importantly, brings him into vivid historical context by rendering his tale through the eyes of his loyal son Owen. Though the novel is a fictionalized account of Brown's life, it is obvious that Cloudsplitter is meticulously researched and Owen's voice sounds roughly appropriate for its own time and place around the turn of the century. Though Banks often references events that are yet to occur, mentioning Kansas as early as the first couple of chapters, any reader brave enough to tackle this book is likely to have a fairly good background in the general history of events. Banks's assumptions regarding his audience's familiarity with the pre-Civil War history of the abolitionist movement are a little too optimistic at times, but those times when he has Owen briefly explain background are seamlessly blended into the narrative as a whole, due often to its existence as a prolonged epistle to a historian and his assistant. Cloudsplitter is nothing if not epic in scale and thematic ambition, and though it can become a bit too grandiose for its own good, it is an interesting and vivid portrait of the anti-slavery crusade that is often forgotten and ignored in the shadow of Lincoln and the Union's victory in the Civil War. It is vitally important, and never forgotten in the novel, that John Brown was opposed to the United States government and had complete skepticism regarding his fellow whites and their willingness to go to war over the fate of what most saw as a lesser form of humanity. Banks excells when describing this viewpoint, conscious of modern readers and our own prolonged struggle with racial inequality while creating a narrator whose own feelings about slavery and race seem entirely genuine and appropriate given his upbringing.
Owen, closest son to John Brown and a perfectly placed narrator, is not without his flaws, however. The opening pages of Cloudsplitter are boring and elusive, taking too long to jump into the engaging story at the heart of the novel. The least interesting sections of Cloudsplitter are those when Owen descends into a whiny, pathetic mess; appropriate, perhaps, given the trauma he has had in his life (he was present in Kansas and Harper's Ferry and must live with his actions), but still unhelpful to the novel as a whole. These sections, while they seem to validate the narrative by remembering its existence as an epistolary memoir, are unconnected to the whole and often break up incredibly interesting points of the plot. Just as the narrative is reaching its dramatic, present-tense climax at Harper's Ferry, Banks draws back and Owen retreats into his present, jaded, and most uninteresting state. When the narrative finally picks back up, there are only a few pages left in the book and they fall back into the past tense. Banks is on to something with his use of the present to solidify Owen's own journey through his memories, a journey marked by his occasional lapses into the time of writing and one that is, sadly, only a shadow of what it could have been. In this case, it is merely a distraction and disrupts the otherwise intense climax, leaving the novel to finish not with a bang but with a whimper as it meanders off into the pointlessness and inconclusiveness of its final paragraph. It is clear that Owen examines his memories only to elicit pity and because of his whiny presence readers cannot get a firm idea of the true nature of his relationship to his enigmatic and powerful father, perhaps left ambiguous on purpose to expose the faults of first person narration; if this is the case, however, the question is misplaced as the novel has plenty of other interesting and important themes to tackle.
The main fault of the novel is its narrator and arguable main character. Owen isn't particularly likable and is just as weak as he wishes to believe he is. It becomes clear early on that his is putty in the hands of his captivating father and that he is utterly incapable of independent thought. His constant calls to his individuality, instead of being enlightening and ironic in this context, are instead annoying as they come after Owen demonstrates his inability for independent thought. Owen many times refers to certain events as turning points in his life and personality; unfortunately, the narrative he presents hardly ever even offers the possibility of change or real growth. It is ultimately impossible to get a hold on Owen, a fault I feel comfortable allotting to Banks because of his awesome portrait of John Brown. Clearly Banks is capable of rendering a rich portrait of a strong and important character; unfortunately, any talent is spent entirely on John as Owen, the novel's pivotal character, is sorely neglected and refers to events and to pieces of the book that simply don't exist (Banks leaves readers hanging on until the end to finally realize the dark deed constantly referred to as Owen's great confession without providing any sense of closure).
The book, despite these major flaws, is indeed a good one. Its passages that actually see action and movement provide a richly detailed portrait of the pre-war North, a society often ignored in light of the South's rich representation in today's popular culture. Banks does a good job representing pre-war thought, putting abolitionist views in the words of a man who has seen the Civil War and Reconstruction come and go, a man who has lived long enough to feel the effects of his actions and who is conscious of his place in history. It is true, of course, that John and Owen Brown represent the absolute extreme of the pre-war antislavery movement, but their ardent abolitionism puts the state of the nation into a far sharper resolution than a novel about more mild abolitionists ever could. Owen Brown was brought up with the sole intention of outlawing slavery and liberating the slaves by any means possible or necessary and Banks wisely makes Owen aware of the uniqueness of his views and actions, an awareness that only enriches the novel and its quite candid discussion of slavery. Banks's choice of a narrator is spot-on even if his presentation of character is a bit off, and he throws John Brown into such vivid relief that readers should leave feeling eager to dive headfirst into the actual history of the life and times of the great American martyr.
Cloudsplitter is clearly a novel on a mission, and Banks is keenly aware of his talent and of the scope of his work. Unfortunately, this often leads to a cluttered book; its 750 pages present the proper scale for the work but Banks gets confused and meanders into boring territory instead of focusing on or highlighting his incredible abilities. The story of John Brown, where it exists without Owen's presence in the plot or well after, in reflection, is utterly fascinating and provides an entirely new point of view on this most pivotal chapter in American history. Despite its flaws as a novel, Cloudsplitter will richly reward diligent readers who plow through its slow spots and concentrate their efforts on the historical world recreated before modern eyes. The book may not be a hallmark of subtlety or literary restraint, but Banks is nonetheless talented and even Owen's misplaced and misguided digressions contain their nuggets of wisdom (particularly vivid is a discussion of point of view and how it comes across in the perfectly appropriate story of Abraham and Isaac). Overall, Cloudsplitter is an intriguing fictionalization of one of history's most outlandish and interesting characters, a sweeping work of historical fiction that suffers occasional missteps but that will enrich readers seeking perspective on the vast complexities of the American Civil War or the effect of strong individuals on historical forces and those closest to them.
Grade: B