Annual of the Association for Mormon Letters 1998 Papers from the Annual Meeting 1 February 1997 ‘Westminster College Salt Lake City, Utah Edited by Lavina Fielding Anderson Association for Mormon Letters Salt Lake City, Utah 1998©1998 by the Association for Mormon Letters. After publication herein, all rights revert to the authors. ‘The Association for Mormon Letters assumes no responsibility for contributors’ statements of fact or opinion. The AML Annual, along with a quarterly newsletter and information about readings, lectures, and other activities, is a benefit of membership, $15 per calendar year. To pay these dues of receive information, please consult: John S. Bennion, secretary 3117 JKEB Brigham Young University Provo, UT 84602 (801) 378-3419, john_bennion@byu.eduCONTENTS Introduction PRESIDENTIAL ADDRESS Maps and Addresses MaryJan Gay Munger MORMON HUMOR Jots and Titers: An Introduction to Mormon Humor Richard H. Cracroft ‘You Stole My Life and I Hate You Kathryn H. Kidd Remodeling the Tract Homes of Heaven: Observations of a Second-rate Carpenter Robert F. Smith Scaring the Hell Out of People Robert Kirby A Bibliography of Mormon Humor: or, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Eternal Life Richard H. Cracroft ‘THE BOOK OF MORMON AS LITERATURE The Book of Mormon as Epic Richard Dilworth Rust The Art of Nephite Narrative ‘Mark D. Thomas The Book of Mormon and Literature Karl C. Sandberg 12 15 19 24 30LDS SCIENCE FICTION d Mormon Buttalion: The Rise of Speculative Fiction Among Mormon Writers Scott Parkin 44 The Individual vs. the Zion Community: An Empirical Look at the Dichotomy in Mormon SE Lee Allred 47 MORMON FOLKLORE Mormon Folklore: Grammar for a Discourse Community William A. (Bert) Wilson 54 Stories of the Mormons" Move West Settlement Folk Ide; Jessie Embry and William A. (Bert) Wilson 58 Practice Makes Perfect: A Twenty-Year Overview of Creative Dates and Invitations Kristi A. Bell 69 Spirit Possession in Brazil: A Folklore Study Adam Nebeker 73 PERSONAL REFLECTIONS I Taught People—Or Should Have Marden J. Clark 84 Opening the Door: A Personal Reflection on Sunstone John Sillito 88 To a Grandmother Russell Burrows 92 Ancestral Lives Craig J. Oberg 97 Mikel Vause 100 My Mother, Poet of Experience Electric Talk: Twenty Months of AML-List Benson Parkinson 106INTRODUCTION Under the able guidance of past president Robert M. Hogge as program chair, the annual meeting of the Association for Mormon Letters for 1997 explored such popular genres of LDS literature as Mormon humor, LDS science {fiction (a first), and the ever-popular personal essay, topped off with an evening buffet and readings by the 1997 AML Award winners, hosted by Karen Moloney. The nineteen papers published in this issue do not represent a comprehensive proceedings. One panel, moderated by Valerie Holladay, refused to be reduced to print. It featured representatives from five contemporary LDS publishers: Curtis Taylor representing Asper/Gold Leaf, Cory Maxwell representing Bookcraft, JoAnn Jolley representing Covenant, Jack Lyon, representing Deseret Book, and Gary Bergera representing Signature Books. Other papers presented at this annual meeting which have not yet been submitted for publication are: J. Scott Bronson, “As Ethical As I Want to Be: Ethics and the LDS Speculative Fiction Writer,” presented in the science fiction session with Scott Parkin and Lee Allred; Harlow Sdéderborg Clark, “Light and Delight"; and two informal presentations on the Internet accompanying Benson Y. Parkinson's discussion of AML-List: Gideon Burton, “The Mormon Literature Website and the Mormon Literature Electronic Bibliography: Progress Report,” and Ben Godfrey, “Bringing LDS Literature to the Rest of the Church and the World." Terry Tempest Williams, prize-winning essayist and naturalist, was honored as the 1998 visiting writer. She spoke on the phenomenon of “The Cultural Editor” and read from her works, Her paper is scheduled for inclusion in the AML Annual, 1999. ‘At the October 1996 AML conjoint session of the Rocky Mountain Modern Language Association meetings, organized by Tessa Meyer Santiago, Levi S. Peterson made a presentation on marriage, accompanied by Paul and Elizabeth Hedengren on middle age, and Susan Miller discussing “In Search of Our Mothers, In Search of Ourselves,” none of which has yet been submitted for publication. The 1997 conjoint session, scheduled for publication in the 1999 volume, featured Mormon humor with papers by Edward A. Geary, “Sanpete County Humor: The Tales and the Tellers,” Helynne H. Hansen, “And the Bishop Only Laughed,” and Sherlene Bartholomew, “More Manic Mantic Mormon Antics: Recent Trends in Mormon Literary Humor.” —Lavina Fielding AndersonPRESIDENTIAL ADDRESS. Maps and Addresses Marylan Gay Munger T have just realized how unfair it is to have the retiring president speak at the end of a luncheon meeting, after the eloquence of people whom I have admired since I first knew there were Mor- mon letters, You are fully satisfied and likely ready for a nap and would probably like to be anywhere but here—and I'm afraid so would 1 But I have to tell you when I was elected to this office three years ago I thought the promise of a captive audience was the one perq of being presi- dent, Then too, counting up, I realized this year 1 ‘would at last be thirty—fully adult—and I looked forward to speaking with more solid authority and deeper wisdom than I've ever been capable of before, But here I am, not feeling any wiser, but only that I have less to say and less reason to say it, Three years ago I had had the backup hope that, surely by this afternoon I'd have done something impressive literarily and then it wouldn't really matter so much whatever I said. But so far, my closest claim is that I shared a carrel with Paul Rawlins our first year of graduate school. So I have fallen back on that tried and tested standard of Mormon testimony meetings—the travelogue. I am aware that this long-established genre is now being discouraged from our meeting- hhouses but I thought its revival might be safe before such a tradition-minded body as yourselves. ‘The second of last month, my first full day of being thirty, T spent reading road maps and navi- gating my family's way up through Joplin, Mis- souri, to Kansas City—actually, to Independence, Missouri, the City of Zion, Map reading is my great talent and one of my few really useful accomplishments. I never get lost; I never miss a turing. thank my parents for starting me early. While traveling through the heavy, humid heat of the Great Plains each summer between Utah and Indiana and later between Ohio and Utah, my mom would at a certain point put the gratifyingly huge road atlas in my hands. “Here is where we are and over on shis page is where we want to end up by dark. You keep your finger on the blue Tine and follow along and not another peep until then.” To find myself so explicitly in a book was fascinating. I could look back and see where we'd been and look ahead and see where we were going. A curve in the blue line of I-70 meant that we would presently bank as the sun slid around to the other windows of the car. And now I could see that the blacktop was not a relentless progression like the moving belt at the grocery store but a blue branch with white buds which were exits to other roads and at any one of them we could turn and g0 everywhere—to Alaska or down past Mexico or into little towns with strange names that had never seen us before—and really the only thing stopping us was the blind single-mindedness of my parents who had only the road in front of them and not the map. At which point I was usually parted from my Rand McNally and told to look out the window and count the reflector posts until I reached a thousand, But I became enthralled by maps and would ore over world atlases when my class was sent to the library to do research on science projects. I liked especially the atlases that showed all the roads and were colored to look like mountains and green forests and yellow deserts. I could always find the place on the map that marked where I sat that very moment hunched over a big book. That place was the center spot for all the places I'd gone and all the places I was going: the past wandering out behind me and the future rambling all around in front of me. This kind of thinking used to make my head float, making me feel as if I were up on a very high mountain where I could see everywhere at once, It reminded me of some- thing I'd read in a book I'd found hidden in thelinen closet at home, Now usually these linen closet books were Pretty interesting—one book had been full of crude stories about farting millers and a not very Tespectable young lady named Alison and some- thing about for some reason fooling an old man into thinking Noah’s flood was coming back and getting him to hang a bunch of boats to the rafters. Another book my mother took away before I got far enough—but I was sure Lady Chatterley's Lover would turn out to be just as good as Pride and Prejudice. However, the book I had most recently found had been a bust. It started out talking about moo- ‘cows and wetting the bed and two colored brushes which I gathered were meant for grooming some- one’s pet dogs, Davitt and Parnell, but I couldn't get anything else out of it except for the one thing I'd liked: a boy who must have been homesick writing inside the front cover of his school book his name, classroom, school, city, and so on up to the universe. I'd tried this myself in my diary: MaryJan Gay, Pink Bed, Basement Bedroom, and so forth until I came to Solar System, Milky Way, Infinity. My address was longer and more exact than the boy's hhad been (he hadn't even put what state he lived in, only the county) but it made me feel very small and uncovered, pinpointing where I was stuck like that, the tiniest thing in a bigger and bigger circle. On the maps, on the other hand, all the exits were the same size and even if you were in one place the road showed how easily you could go someplace else. And so a month ago I was thinking about this and worrying about talking to you today and reading the map from Joplin to Independence. And 1 was telling my husband what a good map reader 1 was and he was very wisely agreeing and I was wondering why they call it a presidential address and not a map and what difference that would make. But then how could you make a map of something that hadn't happened yet entirely? Of course I had done that very thing when I was ten years old and kept sheaves of star charts under my bed which I had drawn up myself so that someday when I became an astronaut I venture forth and find the wondrous purple desert on the planet of Zoontu in the galaxy of Shanalaloor. But I never got around to playing at going to those places, only drawing maps of galaxies n0 one had yet discovered, And I come before you today thinking that maybe the best you can ever do is to give not the address of Mormon literature but a sketchy kind of map, half imagined-recalling how it is you've gotten there so far and making space for whatever new territories are going to keep opening up and being described by other explorers. And surely all you literary experts, well- versed in reading even complex symbols, can see that I am trying to make an analogy between maps and addresses and how probably we will foster Mormon letters best by keeping an easy play between defining what these letters are and being open to new alphabetical discoveries or revisitings of all the old discoveries, But then people like Gideon Burton and Bruce Jorgensen and several others have already done a very good job making these points and even last ‘month in the privacy of my own car I couldn't see much sense in my going into it again. You can ead their papers in past issues of the conference Proceedings. Besides if you've seen my direction already, why don't we just move on to what I thought next, traveling between Joplin and Inde- pendence, Or actually what I was thinking when we pulled into a gas station just outside Independence which, by the way, doesn't really feel like a separate place from Kansas City. Kansas City is the urban center of the American heartland, in some ways the quintessential American city. Independence is its historical district, a neighborhood of preserved houses and old buildings partly refurbished. Sitting at the gas station, I was at first musing over the convenient irony of making Liberty a jail and Independence the central stake of the communal tent of Zion, But that always leads me on to Nauvoo. And I have never been able to decide if making Commerce the City Beautiful is a reestab- lishment of the American Dream or a divine joke of transformation. T’ve thought about this before; and as usual, this mild January 2nd, once again I wasn’t able to decide and so my mind wandered into thinking about the way Salt Lake City looks back to Nau-voo which looks back to Zion in Jackson County which recalls Enoch’s Zion which is Adam-ondi- ‘Ahman not far away in Daviess County which is the Garden of Eden. So from Salt Lake here today I’m only three easy steps away from the omphalos of my people’s story of the emergence of the world. Coming back to Independence was almost a restoration to that central Eden. Butreading incessantly and indiscriminately I've found can be as unsettling as making pilgrimages. Bruce R. MeConkie confidently quotes one of W. W. Phelps’s hymns, “in Adam-ondi-Ahman, Zion rose where Eden was,” as evidence that “the early brethren taught” the garden was located in “an ‘area for which Jackson County, Missouri, is the center place” (20). Which statement ought to be enough for me except that once when browsing the Journal of Discourses, {read some paragraphs from a discourse of Orson Pratt's: ‘The Lord has revealed to us that Adam dwelt there [in Missouri] toward the latter period of his proba- tion, Whether he lived in that region of country from the earliest period of his existence on the earth, we know not. He might have lived thousands of miles distant in bis early days. It might have been upon ‘what we now term the great eastem hemisphere, for in those days the. . . hemispheres were one, and were not divided asunder till the days of Peleg. ‘Adam might have migrated from the great east . . . and formed a location in the westem boundaries of ‘Missouri. This is not revealed. (16:48) I can't decide which view I prefer. There is something very tidy about the idea that Joseph's Zion was to be built neighboring Enoch's which rested on the hills of Eden and all of it safely in the American heartland. But I am also very drawn by “This is not revealed” —like those medieval maps that mark unknown regions, “Here dwell dragons,” instead of the way we do it now, leaving blank areas, pretending if we don't know what's there, nothing is. Besides just last fall I read a book of Bailey ‘White's essays which includes a trip to Torreya State Park, one mile east of Bristol, in the Florida panhandle—a spot claimed by the locals as the original site of the Garden of Bden: first, because it is the “only . . . place on earth where four rivers come together,” and second, because the endan- gered Torreya tree, or stinking cedar, which is very ancient and grows only there, is also called the gopher wood tree (159). And as we all know, even though the Gospel Doctrine class hasn't been on the Old Testament for three years, it was from gopher wood that Noah built his ark, So maybe the Garden of Eden is Florida (there are certainly plenty of snakes there) and Bristol is, by a happy chance, in Liberty County, directly south of Jackson County, Florida, so who knows? In any case this past January, I felt myself leaning most to the idea that even Adam-ondi- Ahman is not the place itself but its reflection. ‘There’s something strangely pleasing to me about this always retreating Eden, touching down here and there across the face of the earth—a garden itself, I had just remembered, patterned after another elsewhere, Like those repeating mirrors ‘meant to draw our thoughts into contemplating eternity. But, I thought, imagine not knowing which reflection was the one your real heart was beating in. And that made me remember the way Bailey White told it: “When the flood came, s0 they say, the ark floated all the way from Bristol halfway around the world to Mt, Ararat, and Noah and his dazed family climbed out into a strange and, with nothing left but stories of their lost homeland in north Florida” (160). “Stories of a lost homeland” sounds like Mor- ‘mon literature to me, Maybe that’s because Eliza Snow's “Yet ofttimes a secret something / Whis- pers, “You're a stranger here," was the first Mor- ‘mon poetry to enter my consciousness. Or maybe it's because when I was a teenager, one summer my cousin and I went on an archaeological dig for a day, The dig was down on the Fremont River, a little south of the Utah town where my dad grew up, out in the sagebrush hills. It bothered me afterwards to realize that a land I'd always thought of as empty and too new to have any history did have its ghosts and ruins. But they weren't mine, 1 was suddenly lonely in a landscape haunted by someone else’s past, lonely for a place that had known my own people. But which lost homeland was I imagining? Old Denmark? Ancestral England? Massachusetts? ‘Watson Hill in Bangor, Maine? Nauvoo before themartyrdom? Salt Lake City before the Gentiles? ‘The orchards of Utah Valley, my birthplace, before gangs and suburban sprawl? Maybe this sense of exile is universal. Maybe it is particularly American—so many of our nation’s forebears came to an America they believed was one kind of Promised Land or another, forced to leave behind tees and hills and skies that had known their people for ages, in hopes of building a new and better homeland here. But from the stories of The Giant Joshua and Sorenson's Where Nothing Is Long Ago to stories like Michael Fillerup’s Visions or Julie Nichols’s “Laughing Jesus” or Eric Sam- uelson’s Gadianton, Mormon writers seem particu- larly caught by the loss of Eden, the disjunction between Zion as it should be and the dwellings of the Saints as they are, the pang of being strangers in a strange land no matter where we g0 oF 10 what place we return. Because it matters to us where it is we go, entangled as we are in our own history and so insistent on fleshing out everything from God, on down: It was here. This was the Garden Tomb, This was the hill. It was these very stones where Joseph knelt. This is the very window frame. See the bloodstain on the floor. This is the trail. This is the place, drive on. Of course I hadn't thought all this waiting at the ‘gas station outside Independence. In fact, by now, my husband and I and our two girls had nearly finished a chilly picnic dinner at one of the tables between the true stake center and the true visitors’ center across the street from the new RLDS Temple, But I've got to go back (which you should know is an expected plot-convention of the Mor- mon testimony travelogue). Have I mentioned that we were going to Independence, Missouri, at my particular wish? Remember, it was my birthday, or nearly so. And one of the advantages of being the adult is that now whenever I want I can leave the direct route back and forth between Oklahoma (where my parents live) and Utah (where I now live once more). Have I said it was a kind of pilgrimage for me? The winter trees along the iver even looked like tees I would have dreamed—kind of smoky and elongated. I'd never truly been in Jackson County, Missouri, though I'm sure I've been driven through Kansas City several times. I wanted to see Independence for my thirtieth birthday, But I didn't want to push into Daviess County where the road map locates 2 Mormon shrine right where Adam-ondi-Ahman ought to be. I was afraid it would be disappointing, One of my friends served a mission at Liberty Jail; and while she was there, a few elders were called to “prepare ‘Adam-ondi-Ahman for the Second Coming.” The missionaries quickly set to, she's told me, planting hundreds of trees and grading roads. I'd hate to go and find a formal avenue of new trees, deep green lawns, and geometric beds of petunias, pansies, and marigolds. Very groomed, very tidy. Very un- Eden-like. Another reason to hope the Second Coming takes its time. Of course I am not going to take time today to urge the kind of literary landscape that would not faint and fade away if naked humanity were to appear among its leaves. ‘That would be superfluous breath, preaching to the converted, But I am working towards another analogy, and maybe you can get there before I do. Though 1 sometimes see promising signs of a loosening of orthodox garden design, the official horticulture (quietly repeated up and down most streets in the town where I live, repeated up and down most streets on the Wasatch Front) still reflects what the English and New English immigrants to the dry Great Basin recognized as beautiful. I call it to myself “English manor house,” a kind of imported beauty not only water-intensive but available only through the labor of domestic servants or their chemical and mechanical equivalents. Foreign to dry land, foreign to the real lives lived here. You may not think these observations have a direct relation to Mormon letters; but I have, for some time, been reading early Mormon poetry, looking for a kindred consciousness through which to imagine and revisit the Saints’ settlement in this valley. I wanted to find early poems that I could believe and, in that way, find my way in the epic sweep of the Story of the Pioneers. I had almost given up—too many brooklets babbling by, night- ingales warbling, flowery meads. The sturdy oaks, the roses’ bloom, the ivy’s twining dida’t partake of a landscape I recognized as my own irrigated Utah and so I thought these poems might be lyingabout other things, too. Then I was skimming Susa ‘Young Gates's history of the YLMIA and read: ‘Who, indeed, that once knew them can forget the simple delights of that early morning start across the grey-green valley, or up through the rugged canyon defile; so carly that even the meadow larks were barely twittering to the fledglings in the nest; the smell of pungent sagebrush, the purple shadows on the mountains that blended and merged into riotous harmony of color; the stil roads, upon which the ‘lecing night had laid fingers of motionless silence! (70) Not a poem, but evocative in a way that the conventional verses I'd been reading were not. And it pleased me in particular that she is not describing the setting for a young ladies" pleasure tip up the canyon or even early morning during the heroic westward trek but the way the presiden- cies of the women’s auxiliaries traveled from stake to stake, strengthening the Zion peculiar to them. ‘Susa sees not shadows of a more genteel past but what is there before her eyes. Her aesthetic is detailed, generous, and exact, as I saw again in her sketch of Emmeline Wells, a woman with whom she had found herself head-to-head at times: {you would know what hard work, indomitable fith and divine intelligence can do for a woman, just watch “Aunt Em” see her, for instance, as she threads her way across a crowded thoroughfare, flouting all assistance, and then see her emerge on the other side of the street to hold converse, per- chance, with some busy politician where in ten ‘minutes you will hear the fate of the Republican party in this state cooked, carved, and served, in a ‘most delectable way. (53) Susa’s is an aesthetic I admire and so I believe her. You see I’m still finding my place in the ooks I read. ‘And this brings me back to what I was wonder- ing, sitting there brushing crumbs off my lap across from the RLDS Temple for world peace. ‘Haven't you often heard that the Book of Mormon account of the 200 years of peace was cut because it was boring? “Nice to live then, but not great reading,” I heard from grownups when [ was a curious gitl. Like killing great piles of people and getting the guards repeatedly drunk is exciting? My favorite books then were the Little House series which explained exactly bow to make creamed com or how to butcher and smoke a hog, or how to braid your own straw hats. One of the most fascinating histories I've ever read is a two- volume study of European women, heavy on descriptions of field culture and textiles, education opportunities, property rights, child care solutions, and all sorts of other peacetime activities. Of course, I may not be the ideal judge to choose gripping reading. “You read the strangest things,” my husband said to me when I took to staying up late at night to finish Leonard Arrington's Great Basin Kingdom, so I may not be the ideal judge of what makes for gripping reading. But President Kimball once said we are a warlike people; maybe we're only bored in stories that seem to have no place for us. But here I am now in the temple the Reorga- nized Church has built in Independence. It's more like a visitors’ center and a grand chapel than one of our temples, but they pray every day here for peace and I like that. Also the seashell spire is very beautiful from inside, especially when the sun is setting through the windows that spiral up its sides. It looks like something by Georgia O’ Keefe. The guide, a very kind gentleman, shows us colorful, gender-balanced, racially diverse murals of the church's sacraments and a beautiful cross made out of wood from all over the world, He takes us through a large doorway bordered by intricately etched glass panels, explaining where it was made and pointing out details of its forest scene. “This is meant to represent a wood by the ‘boyhood home of our founder, Joseph Smith,” he says. “Ah, the Sacred Grove,” I think, feeling that small shiver of pleasure I’ve always had at the prospect of hearing a good story retold. “Our founder, when he was young, was wondering about religion. So one day he went to pray and while praying he had an experience that made him feel when he left the wood that he had something to do, Now if you'll follow me through these double doors . ..” ‘Thats it? No unseen terror binding his tongue? No pillar of light directly over his head? He left feeling he had something to do? Emma Lou‘Thayne may be wrong in saying, “My church owns the story” (62) but I think we tell it better. It was a comfort to cross the street to our visitors’ center, dwarfed though it was by the neighboring temple and tabernacle of the Reorganized Church. Asmall visitors’ center—unimaginative, functional architecture, paintings I'd seen too many times before—all of that is true—but a welter of dates and places and old stories, black and white photo- graphs, journal entries, old songs composed by Mormon settlers in Missouri, In the past few months I've heard on national T.V. Mormon luminaries as diverse as Terry Tempest Williams and Orrin Hatch refer to “our people, my people,” insisting on what “we know as a people” and meaning that tribal body center- ing itself in Salt Lake City. What do we know “as a people”? I’m not going to pretend that we don’t have our own rewritings of history, our own kinds of political correctness. But I am grateful for the sense of shared history and common purpose I have found among my people. And may I allow myself easy play between defining just who “my people” are and recognizing kindred eyes and ears and written voices, ‘Mormon literature is still largely Wasatch Front literature. Imagine the national, the world map of Mormon letters, each written work a bright-headed pin. For obvious and historic reasons there would be a great clustering of pinheads—and you know where they would be—just about where we are right now. At one point I had wanted to use this pulpit to urge a broader view of Mormon letters, more of an effort to include South American and Central American writings, for example, in our maps of Mormon literature. Surely with all the foreign language experience our people have, the translation barrier should not be an unscalable one, We've been promised Shakespeares and Miltons of ‘our own, When they come they may more resem- ble Nerudas, Borges and Szymborskas, Tolstoys, Murasakis and Li Pos. Regardless, though, of how they come, I think earning how to read more of the stories of our people may be a better way of preparing for the millennium than stockpiling wheat and ammuni- tion. Learning how to root ourselves in a particular history and still imagine places for ourselves in stories we'd never thought had room for us must be a better way than what the couple in my par- ents’ Oklahoma have chosen. They've been pre- paring a blimp for the day of cataclysms, its basket packed with all of life's necessities; and when the calamities come, they plan to float up into the clouds while the face of the earth is changed, setting down again only when all is Purified as if there had never been roads to other people's houses. MARYJAN MUNGER, the 1996 president of the Associa- tion for Mormon Letters, lived in Springville, Utah, where she co-directed the Springville Family Literacy Center as well and volunteered as a reading tutor. She has since moved with her husband Casey and their two daughters to Portland, Oregon. Her poems have been published in Dialogue and BYU Studies. WORKS CITED Gates, Susa Young. History of the Young Ladies’ Mutual Improvement Association. Salt Lake: Deseret News, 191, McConkie, Brice R. Mormon Doctrine, 2d ed. Salt Lake City: Bookeraft, 1966. Phelps, W. W. “This Earth Was Once a Garden Place.” Hymn No. 48. Hymns of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Salt Lake City: Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 1985, Pratt, Orson. “Discourse delivered in the Tabernacle, Ogden, Sunday Morning, May 18, 1873.” Journal of Discourses 26 vols. London and Liverpool: LDS Booksellers Depot, 1855-86. Snow, Eliza R. “O My Father.” Hymn No, 292. Hymns of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Salt Lake City: Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 198s, ‘Thayne, Emma Lou. “2. The Comet is a Darting Light” from “Meditations on the Heavens.” Things Happen: Poems of Survival. Salt Lake City: Signature Books, 1991. White, Bailey. Sleeping at the Starlite Motel, and Other ‘Adventures on the Way Back Home. Reading, MA: ‘Addison-Wesley, 1995.MORMON HUMOR Jots and Titters: An Introduction to Mormon Humor Richard H. Cracroft Dear brothers and sisters: We are met at this auspicious eight o’clock hour in much more than a meeting of men and women with a common interest. I am authorized to congratulate you “simple souls” who have overcome the world. You are herewith Sanctified, having satisfied the re~ quirements for NITBIS, the New Intellectual Test of Beatification, Inspiration, and Sanctification. ‘The longstanding Former Test was universally understood: The Second Coming of the Savior was to occur during the Sunday afternoon session of Stake Quarterly Conference—an Elijah-like test which would simplify the Last Judgment by limiting Millennial Election to about 18 percent of the Outward Church Below. Literally nodding in agreement, the Brethren did away with the after- noon session of stake conference as unduly cruel and unusual punishment with the promise of other tests—like sending in the home teachers during the last five minutes of the Cotton Bow. Since the end of the Stake Conference Ordeal, there has been no approved or adequately rigorous test of the true mettle of a Saint. However, an altemate track to heaven has now been confirmed for that rare bird, The Intellectual Mantic (often called, tongue-in-cheek, “The Preying Mantic"), it having been confirmed that, after all, “to be learned is good” if one is anxiously engaged in {the] good cause” of the Association for Mormon Letters. Worthy members of the Association who have faithfully trodden the narrow path to the Celestial City have prepared against Saturday, February 1, 1997, and the last hurdle before sanctification and translation: Just as “the day-dawn [was] breaking,” e’en “e’re [they] left (their room this morning,” after their “sweet hour {well, forty-five minutes} of prayer,” they “put {their} shoulders [at] the wheel,” and, since, “the time {was} far spent,” “hie-ed to Kolob,” even Gore Hall, in what seems like “the twinkling of an eye” and, en route, the admoni- tion, “Never be late, never be late / Children, remember the warning,” these souls/you souls fervently “try to be there / Prompily at eight in the morning.” Look about: Here we ate, a select and elite and noble band, perched on t'other side of Providence, tried, tested, and on time, and looking ‘with amazing righteousness upon the poor wanna- bees who wrongly followed Milton and “only stood and waited.” Bless us; let the tears of joy flood o'er us—and hide the offending Late-Comer from our view. What we are about this morning is another historic first for the Association for Mormon Letters. My research indicates that, worlds without end, no panel comprised of these participants has ever been assembled under the aegis of the AML for purposes of discussing the craft of bringing the Latter-day Saints to tittering on the edge of the “not with much laughter” abyss. So, unless interrupted by lightning, earthquake and tempests, which may be signs that the Lord is ‘not amused or merely that someone's breakfast is not sitting well, it will be our pleasure to listen to Robert F. Smith, Kathryn Kidd, and Robert Kirby. As all know who give a jot and titer for Mormon humor, our three panelists, Smith, Kidd, and Kirby, are the foremost writers of humor in con- temporary Oxymormondom. These three are the Jotters and titterers, or as we call them in the halls Of ivy, the Titterati, of the Restoration. Kathryn Kidd, who, we regret to announce, is home in Sterling, Virginia, no thanks to a chronic ung illness, is author of Paradise Vue, the won- derfully funny chronicle of eccentric life in Para- ise Vue Ward that has brought Diet Coke imbib-ers out of Relief Society closets everywhere, and The Alphabet Year, about “Fangs,” the perfect Mormon mother and her two less-than-perfect partners who form a madcap daycare co-op. Her paper is read by Jane Brady, office manager and editorial associate in BYU's Center for the ‘Study of Christian Values in Literature, the recipi- ent in August 1996 of an M.A. degree in English (thesis topic: “The BYU Folklore about Professor Hugh Nibley”) and the parent, with her husband, Kenneth, of three children, Robert F. Smith is a very active (as opposed to “Less Active”) LDS writer in the guise of owner of Sunrise LDS Bookstore, in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Robert is author of the very funny and well-crafted novel, Baptists at Our Barbeque, his first published novel, published in November; and the first in a series of Mormon comedy / mystery novels, For Time and All Eternity, which will appear shortly; he has completed three other comic. novels, which, he tells me, are pending publica- tion—pending your support of his first book. Finally, we will hear from Robert Kirby, of Springville, Utah, weekly columnist for the Salt Lake Tribune and several-times weekly for the Provo Daily Herald. Robert is author of Sunday of the Living Dead and Wake Me for the Resurrec- tion, funny-funny collections of his zinging news- paper columns which grab one’s human carcass with teeth of truth while breaking none of the sensitive membranes of the soul. The self-pro- claimed Mormon Bad Boy does a poor job of concealing that he is, beneath his Tough-Cop bark, Just a loyal RM, Elders Quorum single-sister ‘mover, and all-round Mormon Sweetheart. Howev- cr, he has already Iaid out his platform for changes should/whenvif he be made a bishop. You Stole My Life and I Hate You Kathryn H. Kidd I’m going to address my remarks to the writers in the audience, because I can't imagine anyone else would get up this early on a Saturday mom- ing. If you aren't a writer now, you're probably thinking you willbe in the future. And even if you never write a word, I suspect you harbor a secret conviction that you could do a much better job of writing Mormon fiction than anyone has done so far, When Orson Scott Card asked me to write a Mormon novel for Hatrack River Publications, 1 thought to myself, How hard can this be? T'll spend a couple of months writing, and then I'll sit back and collect the money and the fame. Little did I realize that writing the book would be the easiest part of the process. Ever since my first book was published, I've been hiding from people who used to be my friends. I finished Paradise Vue exactly two months after Orson Scott Card asked me to write it. I wrote it in one draft. In fact, I was so intent on impressing him by getting the novel done in two months flat that I didn't even proofread the text. Thad only a vague idea what was in the book by the time it was finished, but Orson Scott Card said he liked the manuscript, and that was good enough for me. I wasn't ashamed of Paradise Vue. It wasn't the sort of book I would have read, but I was so proud of myself for having written it that when I went to Utah to visit, I told all the people in my old ward that I was going to be a “famous arthur” soon. They were very impressed, So was 1. None of us, including myself, had expected me to do anything ambitious with my life. When the book finally reached the bookstores, 1 sat at home and waited for my friends to call me with compliments and congratulations. Instead, the fertilizer hit the fan. I started getting ominous phone calls from Salt Lake City. The people in my old ward were furious that I'd written about them, This was 2 big surprise to me, because I didn’t think I had. ‘The only reason I'm still alive is that I was safely in Virginia when my Utah friends—excuse me,in Virginia when my Utah frlends—excuse me, former Utah friends—read the book. Today, only ‘one person from my old ward is still speaking to me, When J learned this paper was going to be presented within walking distance of where I used to live, I halfway expected that people would be here to throw rotten tomatoes in my face. ‘Sad experience has taught me a few things about writing fiction for a Mormon audience. Forget the old adage that you can’t please everybody. In this business, even your mother is your enemy. ‘The basic problem with writing Mormon fiction is striking a balance between fiction and truth. If you're not authentic enough, your readers won't think you live on Planet Earth, Quite a bit of ‘Mormon fiction fits into this category. The hero- ines are little Barbie dolls, so sweet and virtuous and perfect that if somebody like that really did exist you'd want to kick her. At the end of the book, every little problem that was furrowing her pretty brow has been tied up into a neat little package, as charming as a gift under the Christmas tree. She rides off into the sunset with her returned missionary (who is as handsome as Ken but considerably more masculine), and everyone lives happily ever after. People say they want their Mormon fiction to be ‘more true to life than the Barbie and Ken scenario. Most of them are lying. If what you write is too close to home, people will think you're writing about them, And despite what your friends may tell you, they do mot want to see themselves immortalized in print, For a fictional character to be interesting, an author has to show that charac~ ter’s weaknesses as well as his strengths. Yet we live in a society where everyone is striving for perfection. We Mormons don’t like reminders that we haven't been translated yet. The polite fiction among church members is that we don't notice one another's faults. If it’s taboo for us to notice ‘one another's eccentricities in person, it’s twenty times worse if we immortalize those quirks in print. If Ermabelle Floozewhistle has a habit of sticking Raisinets up her nose to make the nostrils, bigger, and if you have a character who stuffs Raisinets into her nose to make the nostrils bigger, Ermabelle is going to be absolutely certain you were making fun of her even if you live in Bounti- ful and she’s never been west of Kalamazoo. It doesn't matter whether you change the situa- tion. You can make Ermabelle a man and say he stuffs his ears with Junior Mints to drown out the sound of his wife's snoring, and it will make no difference. Ermabelle is going to know you were making fun of her, and she’s going to be pig-bit- ing mad. Ermabelle Floozewhistle is an extreme example. Nobody in this audiences ticks Raisinets up her nose to make the nostrils bigger. At least, most of you don’t. But if one of the characters in your Mormon novel drives a Volkswagen Beetle, and if Sister Barnswoggle in your ward drives a Volks- wagen Beetle, Sister Bamswoggle is going to be absolutely certain that the character in your book is supposed to be her, and she’s going to have a ‘whole contingent of loyal friends who are furious with you for dragging her name through the literary mud. Believe me, you will lose friends over the simple choice of inserting a Volkswagen Beetle into your novel to add a little color to it. Here are some rules that must be scrupulously followed if you want to write Mormon fiction without being disowned by your family and shunned by your ward. You may think these rules are ridiculously strict. Actually, they aren't nearly strict enough. If you write fiction, you will lose friends. If you can't deal with that, throw away your word processor and paint landscapes instead. Rule #1: Do not name your characters after your friends, your family members, or even casual acquaintances. Using your ward directory to come up with character names is not a good career move. Even if your friends or family members implore you to name your characters after them, don’t do it. They may not know it, but that’s the last thing they want you to do. Any fictional character who is named after your friends will become your friends in their eyes. Unless you're writing about someone who is so saintly she'd make Mother Teresa look like a hoodlum, do not name her after your favorite aunt or your third grade teacher. I can assure you, your favorite aunt and your third grade teacher will not be amused. Don't make exceptions even when you find wonderful names—names that absolutelyfit the personality and circumstances of the charac- ters you want to portray. I can promise you, you're going to be sorely tempted to break this rule. I know a woman named Paris Goodnight, and I want to give that name to every female character I create. I'll never be able to do it. The potential for disaster is just too great. ‘A corollary of this rule is that you shouldn't give your fictional characters attributes that any of your friends would recognize as theirs. Don't describe their charming little habits. Don’t even describe the way they look. I guarantee you, if you describe a character as “brunette,” every brown- haired friend you have is going to wonder if that character is herself. The more specific you get, the ‘worse trouble you'll be in. When Paradise Vue was published, I was in trouble before anyone even opened the book. The cover illustration depicted two women gossiping in church. One of them looked quite a bit like the way I had looked when I lived in my Utah ward. ‘The other character looked suspiciously like the ‘woman who had been my best friend in that ward. It didn’t matter that neither my friend nor I had ever met the illustrator, and that all this was a terrible coincidence. After looking at that cover, everyone in that ward knew who Amy and Alex “really” were. But it wasn’t just the people in my former ward who thought I'd stolen their lives. I had people from all over the country asking me, “When did you visit my ward? I know you were writing about my ward.” Some of them went so far as to go through their ward directories and match up my fictional characters with people in their own wards. Then they wrote to me, demanding to know when I'd been to their wards in Texas or Florida or Maine. Does all this mean you can never use your friends in your fiction? Of course not. All you can write is what you know. But when you do it, you've got to make the character so foreign to the friend who's on your mind that no human being could ever make the connection. Your father may become a bag lady on the street. Your husband could be transformed into the gum-chewing phys- ed teacher at the local high school. Unless, of course, your husband is the gum-chewing phys-ed teacher at the local high school, in which case you'd be asking for trouble. Rule #2: If you write in the first person, you're doomed. This is a pity, because all you journal- keepers in the audience have had years of practice writing in the first person. Thanks to the practice of journal-keeping, most literate Mormons could ‘write first-person novels in their sleep. But the moment you name one of your charac- ters “I,” everyone you know will assume the “I” is you. It doesn't matter if you're a fluffy litte ibtonde girl from Toad Suck, Arkansas, and your protagonist is a big, black football linebacker who grew up in Brooklyn. The “I” in your novel is going to stand for you, and that’s all there is to it. ‘Once the “I” in your novel is transformed into you, all the other dominoes fall in a line behind that. Your spouse will assume that the spouse (or ‘any significant other) in your book is him; your parents will see themselves in your protagonist's parents, and your enemies will pay close attention to the enemies of any protagonist in any book you waite Tleamed this lesson the hard way. When I wrote Paradise Vue, Orson Scott Card told me I was going to be in big trouble with my husband, Clark, because the husband of my first-person protagonist, ‘was dead. Card said Clark was naturally going to think that I wanted him dead and that I'd better ‘walk on eggs any time I mentioned the protago- nist’s dead husband. 1 thought Orson Scott Card was stone cold crazy, I'd lived with Clark for fifteen years, and I knew him inside and out. He was way too smart to put himself in the place of the fictional dead husband, The two of them had nothing in common except that they were Mormon males with one-syl- lable names. But Orson Scott Card wanted me to humor him, so I made the Tim character so saintly that if he had lived, he would have been the first Mormon prophet who also would have been canonized by the Catholic Church. He probably ‘would have been president of the United States, too. ‘Clark noticed none of this. After he read Para dise Vue, he looked up at me with big round eyes ‘and asked, “Do you really want to get rid of me?” ‘At that point I realized that Orson Scott Card was 10right: A novelist uses first person at his own risk. If you're a thin-skinned writer, you shouldn't be writing fiction. But if you're thin-skinned and you must write fiction, stay away from the first person. Rule #3: No matter how you depict religion in your Mormon novel, you're going to infuriate people, There's nothing you can do about this except to know ahead of time that it’s going to happen and to prepare yourself for being hated. Although a Mormon novel isn’t a Mormon novel without religion in it, there is no one Mor- ‘mon faith, Think about it: Beyond a few basic beliefs that we all hold sacred, church members are taught to study things out in their minds and to rely on personal revelation. Because we are given our free agency, Mormonism varies so much from ‘person to person that we might as well be practic- ing different religions. We create our own individ- ual doctrines based on what brings us, as individu- als, closer to God. In any Mormon ward, for example, we have people who think it's a sin to drink Coke and go to R-rated movies. We also have people who think it's a sin to drink Coke, but R-rated movies are okay. We have people who think Coke is fine, but R-rated movies are an abomination. And we'll have a couple who think that, if Coke is bad, we shouldn't eat chocolate either, and to be on the safe side, we shouldn't go to any movie that's rated PG-13. And while we're at it, let’s throw away the television, too. ‘The problem is, each of us thinks our way of doing things is the Only True Way. Despite the ‘myth that we believe everyone has free agency to decide these things individually, we're all abso- lutely certain that anyone who puts a different spin on things than we do is on a fast train to hell, ‘There's no way any author can depict Mormonism in a Mormon novel so that every reader will experience his own brand of religion when he reads the book. Your Mormon novel will not be a ‘Mormon novel unless it has religion in it, but no matter how you illustrate that religion, some people will think you're writing blasphemy. Shortly after Paradise Vue appeared in the bookstores, I was trapped in an elevator with a woman who saw my name on a name tag and proceeded to call me to repentance. She had ul bought Paradise Vue at Deseret Book and had started to read the novel as she rode the city bus back to her house. She was appalled to see that on the first page of the book, an allegedly good Mormon was shown drinking Pepsi. From her own experience, she knew that no good Mormon drank Pepsi. Therefore, Paradise Vue was an evil book. She proudly told me she'd left that smutty book on the bus. I only hope it was picked up by a Pepsi drinker. ‘The woman in the elevator was not an isolated example. In a health discussion on a computer bulletin board for Mormons, I happened to men- tion some of my bizamre health problems. One of the women responded that God was punishing me for being a pomographer. She continued calling ‘me a pornographer in that public forum for more than a year, until it was finally pointed out to her that “pornography” is a legal definition and that my fiction didn’t come close to fitting the catego- ry. (We finally reached a compromise: She can call my books disgusting, ridiculous, and smutty, but she can’t describe them as pomography and she can't tell people I’m a pornographer. For my part, I promised not to kill her.) To this day, people who read my fiction are almost always surprised that I’m an active member of the LDS Church. Based on the experience of friends of mine who are Mormon authors, I would imagine that Church members who are not as sinful as I am have sent some of my more offen- sive works to the Church Office Building. If you write Mormon fiction, the same thing will eventually happen to you. As church members, we're so accustomed to having anti-Mormons try to harm us that we sometimes get paranoid about the motives of people who are on our side, Many of us have lost the ability to laugh at ourselves, and that’s a pity. One irate member contacted my publisher over an event I depicted in Paradise ‘Vue, where a young priest messed up the sacra- ment prayer and said, “Dammit to hell!” over the microphone, The woman was furious that I had made light of the sacrament. What she didn't know was that [hadn't made up that anecdote. I'd reported it as it happened. The only change I'd made was that, when I fictionalized the account, I cleaned up the priest's language considerably.By the same token, many church members wouldn’t appreciate hearing about the time I broke my ankle, when I screamed a four-letter word in pain and fell into the bishop's arms, And they'd be equally appalled if they knew that my greatest fear as an ordinance worker in the Washington D.C. Temple is that I'll break my ankle again and scream that same four-letter word within the temple walls. ‘These things aren’t mortal sins. They're the actions of people who are trying to live the gospel the best they can but who sometimes fail, and who ‘occasionally really screw things up. I'd be the last person to suggest making light of the Church, but I believe it’s a good thing to take ourselves and our weaknesses lightly. After all, without the Atonement, none of us is worthy of exaltation. Nobody in this room has any reason to take himself so seriously that he can’t laugh at his own mistakes. Tn summary, writing Mormon fiction is a thank- less task. You lose friends, you have strangers hating you, and you don’t even get good money for it. But occasionally you'll get that letter from someone who will tell you that your book changed her life for the better. Once at stake conference, a stranger put her arms around me and hugged me, She told me that she and her daughter had been at each other's throats for years, but when her daughter read my book The Alphabet Year, she saw herself in the homtible little girl in the book and said to her mother, “This is me.” From that day forward, ‘mother and daughter had been the best of friends. For all I know, they're still off in the sunset together. When people tell you stories like that, you'll remember why you thought writing Mor- ‘mon fiction was a good idea in the first place. KATHRYN H. KIDD, « resideat of the Algonkian Ward in the Warrenton Virginia Stake, is author of three novels published by Hatrack River Publications in Greensboro, North Carolina: Paradise Vue (1989), The Alphabet Year (1991), and Return to Paradise (forthcoming). Because she ‘was ill, her paper was read by Jane Brady, office manager and editorial associate in BYU's Center for the Study of (Christian Values in Literature. Remodeling the Tract Homes of Heaven: Observations of a Second-rate Carpenter Robert F. Smith Imagine, if you will, heaven in the morning, You wake up to blue skies, the temperature's perfect. Your wife/husband has already fixed you some wonderful meal, The smell of pancakes is drifting through the house, You go out to retrieve the Deseret News, which we all know will be the newspaper of preference in heaven. As you're picking up your perfect paper, you look across the street at your neighbor's home and realize that it ig identical to the ones on both sides of it. In fact, give or take a few shrubs and perhaps a color scheme, it is identical to every house on the street, including yours. A nice community made perfect, by the fact that everything is similar. The mansion that has been prepared for you is a cookie cutter, 1600-square foot, attractive-from-the-front, boxy- from-the-back, same-as-the-Jones tract home. Heaven? T hope not. Now I'm not suggesting that they relax the building codes and covenants of the kingdom. I'm simply taking a look at what sells in the Mormon bookstores and assuming things will be the same in the next world, And I for one think it is time to start remodeling the tract homes of heaven. ‘You see, I imagine a heaven with personality, a place where we can be divinely expressive while remaining willingly submissive to our Heavenly Father’s community plan. In my mind I see the blueprints of heaven with scribbles in every inch of the margins with notes that read, “Laugh a little here, Make this funnier. Lighten up the c joint or q joint”—whatever. A heaven where we are all together and all original, where individuality is 12divine, Not a sterile little cluster of tract homes, where off in the distance, far from the flock, you can barely see Robert Kirby Geodesic dome house, or Katherine Kidd's blue stucco home. Isee a heaven of humor. And I consider it both essential and beneficial to help ourselves to lots of laughter during this lifetime. To work on our forever funny bones. It seems, however, that ‘Mormon humor struggles to find respect among the contractors and buyers of Mormon literature. Instead of its being viewed as the aesthetically pleasing mansion which I see, Mormon humor is too often considered to be a blasphemous rickety old single wide mobile home that is blocking everyone's view of the kingdom. Well, I believe it’s time to add a heaping help- ing of humor to the big Mormon pie in the sky, to lighten up our legacy. ‘We must remodel. ‘The housing addition of humor should be a relatively easy project, or so I used to think. I ‘mean we are all so endearingly funny that the task of putting to paper something humorous about us is almost as easy as making a journal entry. But I've discovered that it can be tricky to sell Mor- ‘mon humor, both to an editor and to the reading community. It's like going to the neighborhood association and asking if it would be all right to install large bulky solar panels on my roof. While it might reduce my energy bill and help the world, it is not an idea that is easily adopted. This is too bad. ‘When it comes to humor, we have so much to offer. But a large part of our charm comes from the fact that we don't realize it. This wonderful, divine trait is imbedded into us. Yes, with the glorious restoration came not only the possibility of personal revelation, but the probability of personal humiliation. Let’s face it. It's going to take more than the second coming to stop us from viewing Jell-O as an actual salad, or to put an end to people using fast and testimony meeting to bring everyone up to speed on their lives. Or to ‘make some people realize that this part of us while nice is also funny. There is testimony therapy in talking and laughing about ourselves. Yes, there is power in putting to paper these wonderful things. ‘We are funny. The literature we put out, howev- B er, is usually not. True, there have been some exceptions, and Richard Cracroft’s bibliography contains some gems that need to be rediscovered. But the list is fairly short, and it is the same list repeated over and over again. As a bookseller I have watched some of these books crop up and make a place for themselves in an otherwise humorless neighborhood. At first they seem to bring the property value down, but with time we come to realize what an asset these books are. Sam Taylor, Katherine Kidd, Louise Plummer, Robert Kirby, Joni Hilton, Louise Plummer, Pat Bagley, and a short list of contemporary others, have all come into our celestial communities and successfully built houses, Sure we all guffawed when Katherine Kidd put in a breezeway. We'd never seen one before, and the idea of an open space between our garage and domicile frightened us, But as soon as it was finished and we were able to sit out on her deck and contemplate the new addition, we were hooked. Robert Kirby scared us to death when he knocked out his pantry and put in a huge Jacuzzi, But we came around. ‘One dip in those warm swirly waters made believ- ers out of us. These people have broken the frozen ground, and it is because of them that many people have begun to remodel. Many, but not enough. ‘The complications begin with the contractors. Like other presses, LDS publishers are simply trying to publish what they think and hope will sell, But sometimes I feel that Mormon literature, particularly Mormon fiction, has fallen into a rut, repeating the same book blueprints over and over. After hours of extensive research—well, all right. Last Tuesday I had eleven free minutes; and after I fixed myself a sandwich and unloaded the dishwasher, 1 used the remaining minutes to narrow those basic blueprints down to these three. Blueprint #1 is the Opal. A cute story, mainly ‘words filling the page, incredibly simple or com- pletely unrealistic, someone dies at the end or is converted. Safe, easy to build, and culturally sound. An interesting side note is that this model is particularly hard to heat due to thin insulation, Blueprint #2 is the Majestic Opal. Pleasant pioneer story, a litte good clean pioneer romance. ‘The enemy—be it terrain, weak testimony, orGovernor Boggs—dies at the end, This is a good, solid,three-bedroom, two-bath, large-laundry-room. type of read. Blueprint #3 is the Jade, funny in the sense that someone actually published it, takes place at some high school or in the locale of the author's mis- sion. The plot consists of a heavy romance or at least some intense emotional scenes, but the plot is secondary to the gospel principles, and it is the number one selling book for at least two months. ‘An important note here is that this model is the most popular. The large garage and airy living room make everyone feel right at home. Does everyone really need to be converted in the space of two hundred pages? Do the main characters have to anxiously await every issue of the Ensign, and if so do we really need to hear about it? ‘The buyers have determined what sells, and the publishing houses are building tract homes faster than Subway sandwich shops can pop up in strip malls. Unfortunately, people seem so comfortable with the standard blueprints that no one wants to pull the proverbial nail, and laughing seems to be on the don’t list for most buyers. We don’t mind if, someone gets shot, abused, or kidnapped, but just try and suggest that we are imeverently flawed, and people want to lynch you. To many, laughter is like the wrecking crew busting apart all that we hold sacred. This reaction is very frustrating, ‘And the solution? Why, Mormon humor must, ‘open up to include and encompass more than it now does. After all, once people step into the remodeled house of humor, few want to leave. The trick is getting them to take the first step inside. ‘This seems an impossible task at times, due to the glaring fact that humor is subjective. The plastic gnomes on my heavenly front lawn might make me and a couple of my neighbors laugh, but to a large majority they are an eyesore and an abomination before God. Sadly, we may never be ‘one heart, one mind, and one humor. Yes, most people are moved when someone in some story dies. Some are even moved to tears—and tears sell. But when that dead person is buried in a white coffin only after Memorial Day, only a few people laugh. Death is universal. Laughing about 14 it is another story. It seems as if some people view God as the origin of everything except humor. How many times have I heard this scenario: “I just lost my job, my wife left me, my kid is inactive, and I’ve just been diagnosed with eczema—but God works in mysterious ways”? This attitude may be noble, but why is it so hard for us to be as liberal with laughter as we are with misery? Just once I would like to hear someone say something like: “I was on the bus this morning and this woman’s dentures fell out of her mouth and into someone else's purse. Once she got off the bus I laughed so hard that I forgot all of my problems. God works in mysterious ways.” Ts loud laughter bad? Certainly in rampant ‘excess, it could be. But in rampant excess, ordi- narily admirable things like needlepoint and correlation can be deadly. It's like going to an all- you-can-eat salad bar and stuffing yourself only on marinated garbanzo beans. Okay, all things in moderation, but we have been way too moderate in our written humor. If Mormons were as moder- ate with humor as they are with fats and fabric we would be doing all right. “There is cause for celebration. I do believe the remodeling has begun. Some walls are coming down, and we're hanging better than standard doors these days, thanks to those renegades who decorated in puce and hot pink instead of pastel and proper. Both buyers and sellers are beginning to realize that humor can work. It will be downright heaven when we all realize just how wonderfully imperfect our Father has allowed us to be. And it will be the highest level of the celestial kingdom when we realize that we are better off when we laugh about this fact. If you ask any faithful member just what his or her favorite scripture is, chances are that some- ‘where on the short list is 2 Nephi 2:25: “Men are that they might have joy.” Well, we should be writing about it. And not just the serious joy, but the everyday joy and humor that we, as brothers and sisters, provide each other simply by going about our business. There should be no more suppressing of this major character trait. To me, there is nothing more exciting than look- ing out of my window and watching my neighborput in a skylight or knock out a wall. And though work is still needed, it is wonderful to see Mor- mon humor coming into the light, and to see our eclectic and original neighborhoods taking shape. Mormon publishers are actually beginning to seek out humor, as brave patrons boldly step up to ask for the goods. Keep stepping! Yes, it is a benefit to all of us when we realize that we don’t need to be offended by who we are. We need to celebrate, and celebrate with laughter. Is there anything more Zion-like than wanting your fellow human beings to be so touched that they laugh? I think not, Let’s rip up the dark days of deep shag carpet that has been conveniently hiding the fumbles and foibles of everyday. It's time to lay the light-colored Berber of humor. Sure it shows the stains more but it cleans up nicely and is considerably easier on the eyes. Yes, I say to heck with the pattern, Scaring the Hell T'm putting in roman columns and Victorian arches. And I'm writing down all the goofy things that happen in the process. Because we're wonderful, we're celestial, and we're human, So, here’s to Mormon bookstores with humor sections larger than their self-help sections. Here’s to a legacy of laughter. And here's to the eternal hope of humor. ROBERT F. SMITH lives in Albuquerque, New Mexico, ‘with his wife, Krista, and daughters, Kindred and Phoebe. He is the owner of Sunrise Bookstore in Albuquerque. He is also, and among other things, the author of the novel Baptists at our Barbecue (Salt Lake City: Aspen Books, 1996), The Miracle of Forgeiness (Salt Lake City: Aspen. Books, 1997), and the forthcoming For Time and All Absurdity. Out of People Robert Kirby “Its the test of a good religion whether you can joke about it." —Gilbert K. Chesterton, English author and critic, 1874-1936 Humor is very serious business, particularly when it comes to religion. This occurred to me most poignantly in 1991 while working as a humor columnist for the Utah County Journal, a small, twice-weekly advertising circular. One day an hour before deadline, the editor asked me to write an editorial. I sat down and ripped out what would later g0 down in history as “Five Kinds of Mormons.” It was a no-brainer, one of those things that came easy because it had been floating around in my head for years. Forty years of medium-regular church attendance had convinced me that all ‘Mormons could be lumped into one of five distinct categories: liberal, genuine, conservative, orthodox and Nazi, Finished, I tossed it on the editor's desk andwent home. He called later and asked if 1 really wanted to run the editorial, which he as- sured me was “not that funny.” After some discus- 15 sion, I suggested that he Kill the piece and run something else. “Five Kinds of Mormons” was in the paper when I came to work the following day. So was the publisher. While I maintained a low profile in my cubicle, the publisher ripped into the editor about me and the bad journalistic sense that al- lowed such a salacious piece to run. He predicted a deluge of letters from angry readers. ‘The first letter arrived within hours. The speed of the response was far less surprising than the source, Distraught, the publisher had gone back to his office and poured out his emotions on paper. Thus, in the next edition, Journal readers were feted with a letter to the Journal editor from the Journal publisher denouncing one of the Journal waiters, ‘The publisher castigated my heathen efforts to categorize Mormons and claimed that if not a complete child of darkness, I was at least a dim spiritual bulb. It further insisted that most Mor- mons were so busy doing good that the ministra- tions of “the Three Nephites are hardly needed.”As predicted, the letters began arriving. They were indeed hurtful, but only if you happened to be the publisher. The readers overwhelmingly suggested to the editor that the publisher was in dire need of a life. Only two letters (including the publisher's) claimed that SKM was offensive. “The public’s support of SKM brought about two very positive results. First, it sealed the fates of both the editor and myself. We were eventually discharged. Second, it sounded a clarion call in my head. Whereas I had previously assumed that most Mormons were humor impaired, reader response indicated just the opposite. There was, apparently, a large segment of active Mormons who found humor in the ironies of their own behavior. Since getting the boot from the Journal, SKM has followed me everywhere, I've seen yellowed copies stuck to reftigerators, cash registers, bulle~ tin boards, and work stations. The attention is somewhat disconcerting in that SKM isn’t all that great. What cosmic meaning lies in the fact that one of the most popular things I've ever written was accomplished more by accident than design? I don’t want to know. During the interim between SKM and my separation from the Journal, 1 continued to lam- oon certain aspects of Mormon behavior. Shortly ‘after the appearance of a column in which I likened the sound of LDS hymn singing to the noise made by an anesthetized dairy herd, I re~ ceived a call from an irate reader, When the caller identified herself, I immediately recognized her as a new member of my ward. It was perfectly clear, however, that Sister X was unaware of who I was. “{ can only assume that you aren't Mormon,” Sister X said. “Because if you knew anything at all about us Mormons, you wouldn’t have said that.” ‘When I explained that I was a Mormon, Sister X then insisted that I could only be an “inactive” Mormon or, worse, an apostate, I replied that 1 attended church regularly and wasn’t inclined toward leaving the fold. When she continued to press me regarding my status in the church, I pulled out the big gun. “Look, I go to church every Sunday, Sister X,” I said, “I'm also in the bishopric of your new ward.” 16 Stammering, Sister X hung up. She called back a few minutes later to tell me that she had read the column again “and I did find some humor in it.” She was hard pressed, however, to explain why she was able to see the humor only after discover- ing who I was, Like many Mormons, she probably needed some form of ecclesiastical endorsement before laughing at herself and the behavior of her fellow church-goers. Noted German satirist Georg Christoph Lichten- berg knew what he was talking about when he said, “A person reveals his character by nothing so clearly as the joke he resents.” One of the greatest indictments against orga- nized religion is that it more often than not instills in its followers a faith so brainless and arrogant that adherents frequently believe that mocking them is the same thing as mocking God. ‘While this ailment afflicts organized religion in general, you'd think that Mormons in specific should know better. After all, we're the ones who believe in a god of “body, parts and passion.” If God can get angry, it stands to reason that he can also laugh—and do so in equal measures. Unfortunately, most Mormons, indeed most Christians, don’t act as if God can have a good time, Church has done an excellent job of educat- ing us all as to the things that can make God mad enough to kill us, but nothing is ever said about those things that make God laugh. Organized religion is the sole culprit for this lopsided view of God. More directly, gospel bureaucrats, ancient and modern, have produced a view of God today as that of a mean-spirited bean counter who, if really possessed of a sense of humor, has one that could only be utterly superflu- ous to the natural order of things. Perhaps this occurs because of human nature. Namely that it’s far easier to scare people than to make them laugh. On a more organized level, fear has proven to be a more effective teaching too! than laughter or even love. This probably explains why the news from religious leaders is more often than not bad. For them, scaring the hell out of people appears to be something more than just @ witty turn of phrase. Niccolo Machiavelli certainly knew this in the fifteenth century when he wrote: “I conclude,therefore, with regard to being feared and loved, ‘that men love at their own free will, but fear at the will of the prince, and that a wise prince must rely ‘on what is in his power and not on what is in the power of others.” ‘Mormons have long been exhorted to refrain from light-minded behavior, a good idea when the subject is one of sacredness. Personally, I don’t think God was kidding when he said, “Remember that that which cometh from above is sacred and must be spoken with care, and by constraint of the Spirit” (D&C 63:64). If misused, humor can certainly lead to mockery and a cheapening of things holy. It can even blind us to the more spiritual and positive nature of events and people. For example, while most ‘Mormons are familiar with at least one or two ribald J. Golden Kimball anecdotes, almost none can cite the man’s deep theological contributions to the church, Uncle Golden today is known almost solely as the General Authority who “cuss- ed.” At the same time, Uncle Golden's continued popularity among Mormons is proof of our love and need for irony and even self-mockery. We hold dear leaders who are “real people,” men and women whose lives inspire us with hope because of their personal shortcomings rather than burden us with guilt by the seeming unobtainable nature of their religious stature. Using a self-deprecating wit, Uncle Golden taught us that being less than perfect is not only acceptable to God but even expected. And for that, Mormons have nearly canonized him. Sadly, our retreat from light-mindedness often leads us to stiff-neckedness. If the presence of humor in religion has its risks, the absence of humor can be disastrous. It’s no coincidence that ‘wry skeptics and humorists are rarely found at the hhead of jihads, pogroms, and crusades. It’s the Kind of mind-set that does not lend itself well to religious zealotry. Consequently, a good sense of humor is an indispensable safeguard against faith run dangerously amok. Stripping humor out of worship stands less of a chance of bringing us closer to God than it does closer to another Holo- caust or Mountain Meadows Massacre. A self-deprecating sense of humor remains the 7 best way of avoiding the excesses of religious behavior. It achieves this desirable moderation by lampooning and bursting the bubble of our belief that we are more special than God’s other chil- dren. As such, the value of humor must necessari- ly be measured by the reactions of those being Jampooned. With respect to Kathryn Kidd's remarks in which she cautioned us concerning the dangers of spoofing family and ward members, I must admit that this is precisely why I do it. A respectable Tampoonist is not on a humor crusade so much as he or she is out hunting idiots. Humor is our bait and, used appropriately, it lets us know exactly who the ward Nazis are. Frankly, that’s more important to me than knowing who smokes, drinks, doesn't pay tithing, or shops on Sunday. For many Mormons, laughter is the only way to survive in a church where boredom has been refined to the level of a spiritual experience, a church where herd instinct is an acceptable alterna- tive to informed obedience. ‘This phenomenon occurs in large part because much of what the faithful hold as dear and pre- cious is sometimes little more than their own ‘gospel ego. Personal convictions are nearly always greater enemies of the truth than outright lies. Worse, the more outlandish a conviction is, the larger amount of nerve required to protect it Lampooning those convictions and their corre- sponding behaviors is perhaps the best way of revealing them for what they are: self-importance. assert that self-importance arises because of spiritual stagnation. If the nature of being spiritual has its ultimate reward in eternal life and the power fo create, then self-importance has to be the true mark of the beast because it so handily confuses itself with spirituality or even common sense, Eric Hoffer observed, “The compulsion to take ourselves seriously is in inverse proportion to our creative capacity. When the creative flow dries up, all we have left is our importance” (52). It's stuff like this that raises for me the most important of all Mormon gospel questions, namely that if the glory of God really is intelligence, how ‘come nobody in this church ever gets excommuni- cated for being deliberately stupid?Religious humor finds its best footing in irony, in illustrating the difference between the way the faithful should behave and the way they ofttimes do. While I believe that the principles and ordi- ances themselves should be treated as sacred, idiotic human behavior with respect to them is (at least to me) fair game. For example, priesthood blessings are a gift from our Heavenly Father and shouldn't be mocked. On the other hand, the behavior of people who ask for blessings every time they stub their toes or fall prey to 2 mosquito is another matter. Which brings us to the subject of rules. When I began writing a religious humor column for the Salt Lake Tribune in 1994, the guidelines were fairly broad. I was expected to be funny while at the same being responsible. I decided to draw up some personal limits. Since religious humor isn't exactly a well-traveled road, it wasn’t possible for me to rely on the experience of others as to what was fair game. So I made a few personal commandments. With a few minor adjustments, they remain the same after three years of hard use. 1. Thou shalt not mock the religious ordinances of any faith save it be that of cannibals, militant feminists, and Republicans, 2, Thou shalt not lampoon thy neighbor's name, rather only thy neighbor's behavior. 3, ‘Thou shalt not pick fights with church lead- ers; for in the day thou doest, thou shalt surely be sent to labor in thy ward's nursery. ‘4, Thou shalt have no other gods before me, including Dave Barry, P. J. O’Rourke, and Mark ‘Twain, '5, Thou shalt not score exceedingly cheap shots off thy father and thy mother. 6. Thou shalt not plagiarize lest thou be sued, yea exceedingly. ‘The rules are pretty simple, which probably explains why they work (for me). The only time 1 ever get in trouble is when I break one or more of them, Most notably when, in response to the frequently asked question if I was afraid of Church. leaders, I said no, OK, what I actually said was that I could probably beat up President Hinckley. No angels, plagues, or Church Security, just me and the prophet out behind the temple. 18 It goes without saying that an appreciation for humor changes from person to person. In this particular case, it changed significantly from my person to the person of a certain General Authority who shall remain unnamed. The result was a very amiable but very long phone conversation about the merits of reducing the prophet of God to the evel of a roustabout o refraining from same. ‘The value of humor differs among individuals. Mercifully, it’s not even the same from prophet to prophet. Brigham Young, a man known throughout the world for his brilliant sense of humor (sorry, I couldn't resist), once claimed that the act of Jaughing out loud was something to be ashamed of: “Never give way to vain laughter. I have seldom laughed aloud for twenty or thirty years without regretting it, and I always blush for those ‘who laugh aloud without meaning.” (On the other hand, President Gordon Hinckley’s biography makes plain the current prophets delight in laughing uproariously at a good joke. “Gordon loved to hear or tell a good story and ‘would laugh so hard as he approached the punch line that he could hardly speak or breathe. Watch- ing him react was almost more fun than the joke itself, Family gatherings became laugh-fests, and at times the hilarity got out of hand” (Dew 175). ‘And why not? The benefits of humor, specifical- ly laughter, have been well documented by medi- cal researchers. Studies by Dr. Lee Beck and Dr. Stanley Tan of Loma Linda University in Califor- nia have shown that “laughing lowers blood pressure, increases muscle flexation and triggers @ flood of beta endorphins, the brain's natural ‘morphinelike compounds that can induce a sense of euphoria.” Even better, natural killer cells that destroy viruses and tumors actually increase during a state of mirth, Gamma-interferon, a disease- fighting protein, rises with laughter as do B-cells, which produce disease destroying antibodies and ‘T-cells, which orchestrate the immune system Ricks). Move over, Word of Wisdom! ROBERT KIRBY, of Springville, Utah, writes a column three times a week for the Salt Lake Tribune, He and cartoonist Pat Bagley bave teamed up to produce three best-selling books, all published by Buckaroo Books, thefirat two in Carson City, Nevada, and the last in Spring- ville, Utah: Sunday of the Living Dead (1995), Wake Me ‘for the Resurrection (1996), and Pat and Kirby Go to Helt (1997). WORKS CITED Dew, Sheri. Go Forward with Faith. Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1996, a Ricks, Delthia, Associated Press, Orlando Sentinel, as ‘printed in Daily Herald (Provo, Utah), November 6, 1996. “Thoughts of Eric Hoffer, Including ‘Absolute Faith Cor- rupts Absolutely," New York Times Magazine, April 25, 1971: $2. A Bibliography of Mormon Humor: or, A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to Eternal Life Richard H. Cracroft I G. K. Chesterton's pronouncement, “It is the test of a good religion whether you can joke about it,” is not high on LDS lists of “Top Ten Signs of the ‘True Church.” Still, as the accompanying “Anno- tated Bibliography of Mormon Humor” urges to our view, the steady increase over the past two decades of published humor by, for, and about the Latter-day Saints bespeaks a healthy fin-de-sidcle Mormon confidence in their beliefs, institutions, leaders, and themselves. ‘This bibliography, which I have desultorily collected over two decades, has been expanded, coddled, urged, and scolded into its present state by Sherlene Hall Bartholomew, a graduate student in American Studies, the likes of whom for dedi- cation, tenacity, engagement in the subject, and willingness to work long into early morning hours, T have never seen the likes of. Tempted to make this bibliography more and more inclusive, we schooled our entries to include, beside works obviously humorous in content, works which included what seemed to us significant passages of humor and wit, as well as works whose tone was predominantly or even usually humorous. The attempts at annotation, variously successful, focus ‘on the humor in the works, but we have seldom resisted the temptation to include published refer- ences to the afticle or book which treats the content in the larger context of Mormon literature. Often cartied away by our subject, we are to be commended for the editorial restraint we exercise in deleting our own quips, puns, asides, and other ‘manic responses to the literature under review. 19 n We have discovered that Mormon humor, like the humor of other religious peoples, likewise seeks to span the unbridgeable gulf between the divine and the profane. Humor reminds religious mortals how they may transform the present, ridiculous What Js into the future and sublime What Ought to Be. Humor names that gulf “ab- surd” and “ridiculous,” and laughs at human ignorance of the gulf between smooth-faced ‘Appearance and pock-marked Reality—as in “the king is wearing no clothes,” or “the bishop has ketchup stains on his tie—again.” Earthcrust-bust- ing humor assists religion by exposing the incon- gruities which sidetrack us from our religious purposes, then laughs into proper, shrunken pro- portions the potholes in our lives, our institutions, and each other as we bumble along the riddled freeway to perfection. Mark Twain, that comic seer, was right in asserting that “against the assault of laughter nothing can stand”—except plain ‘Truth, that “sum of existence” which will “weather the worst.” Which is all well and good, until we understand that humor, someone has said, is what you laugh at when it happens to someone else—an un-Chris- tian response, at very least. Humor can be danger- ‘ous because it is lawless, unpredictable, spontane- ous, and always has a point, sometimes not so fine. If that point breaks my thin skin or prods your sacred cow a bit too roughly, humor can be discomfiting, threatening to the status quo—and, above all, threatening to a church which cannot tolerate distracting or diverting blemishes on itspolished, best-foot-forward outreach to Prociaim the Gospel—to gather souls to Christ and the Restored Gospel. Still, in its other mission, Per- fecting the Saints, purifying Mormonism needs the refining and perfecting blessings of humor, which by its very nature must be about the onerous business of deflating pride and pomposity, discom- fiting the complacent and self-righteous, chasten- ing the sinner, begetting change—all the while teetering in precarious balance between conserva- tive preservation of values (“all that has been revealed”) and liberal openness to continuing revelation (all that will “yet be revealed”)—incon- sgruities that provide yawning gaps which cry out for humorous bridging While it can be distracting and frivolous, sunny-spirited humor is by-and-large good for whatever may ail us Latter-day Saints. Humor enables us to flex, offer tentative opinions, and assert our individualism in a church which favors collective nouns (quorums, societies, groups, presidencies and families, tumor provides a gentle (or caustic, if necessary) dissolving agent against the build-up of spiritual dross, pride, humbugs, hypocrisy, self-righteousness, superfi alities and bureaucracies. With Nephi (2 Ne. 4:34), humor cautions us, through panning individual and collective frailties, against leaning on “the arm of flesh.” Humor slices through the effluvia crusted on our souls, as did Presidents J. Reuben Clark ‘and Marion G, Romney's “Rule #1 for Newly Called Church Leaders”: “Don’t take yourself t00 damn seriously.” Shock, then understanding, then laughter, then restoration of perspective by release of tension, Furthermore, humor, unofficial and ‘omnipresent in LDS culture, helps to define and unify the Latter-day Saints as a people. One never knows, in foyer, chapel, or classroom, when humor will break out. But one can anticipate the pleasure it affords. mr ‘But putting humor on the page is another matter. Humor is a spontaneous art; fixing it in writing often causes it to lose verve and become strained and artificial. We attempt in the bibliography to list such few and occasional outbursts of spontane- ous humor as recorded only incidentally in such records as the Journal of Discourses, in the Nau- yoo Wasp, in those two virtually unknown early Utah journals, Vesprecula and the Keepapitchin’in. Spontaneous humor is at its liveliest in persistent Mormon folklore. Rightly fearing that written ‘humor, or humor for humor's sake, might trivialize their serious subject and intent, the Saints have, ‘until recently, shied away from publishing humor. ‘The first real out-of-closet venturer into success- fully publishing Mormon humor and abroad, at that, was Samuel Woolley Taylor, with Heaven Knows Why, published in Collier's in 1948 and arguably still the funniest Mormon book around. Set in a western Utah valley after World War TI, this hilarious novel, like Jt's a Wonderful Life, is timeless and universal, even though its true-love- never-did-run-smooth story is complicated by envelop-patterned scenes set in a bureaucratic Mormon Heaven, by well-meaning but bumbling angelic visitations, hilarious deceptions over violation of the Word of Wisdom, confusions of a bishop innocently befuddled by hard cider, and complications introduced by his meddling wife and a longstanding local feud. Happily for those who haven't read it yet, Aspen Books reissued the novel in 1994. ‘After Heaven Knows Why (1948) there was virtual silence in the comic heavens until the 1970s, when the publication of Mormon humor recommenced with Donald R. Marshall's very funny short story, “May the Good Lord Bless and You,” an epistolary exchange between “sincere” Elder Calbert Dunkley and “intent-on- matrimony” Floydene Wallup, in his milestone collection, The Rummage Sale (1972; republished by Deseret Book, 1985). Then followed Carol Lynn Pearson's Busy Bishop's Notebook (1976) — (1 don't believe I was the bishop, but Sister Pear- son in fact served ably as one of my Relief Soci- ety presidents); Eileen Gibbons Kump's warmly comic “Sayso or Sense,” in her landmark serial short-story collection, Bread é Milk (1979); Orson Scott Card’s equally remarkable and wonderfully witty Saintspeak: The Mormon Dictionary (1981); Levi S. Peterson's unforgettable Rendella Kran- pity, in “The Christianizing of Coburn Heights,” in ‘The Canyons of Grace (1982) and his numerouscomic figures in Backslider (1986) and Night Soil (1990); Calvin Grondahl’s acerbic cartoon collec tions Freeway to Perfection (1982), Sunday's Foyer (1983), and Faith Promoting Rumors (1983); and in such incidental scenes in fiction as the comic tour de force in Orson Scott Card's Saints (1984), in which rough-spoken, straight- shooting Elder Heber C. Kimball cleverly besieges gentle Englishman Charlie Kirkham and converts him to Mormonism by following what we might later have labeled “The Elder LeGrand Richards Overwhelm.” wv For a long time now, Mormons have becn guffawing at James Arrington’s wonderful The Farley Family Reunion (video, 1990); chuckling over Edward A. Geary’s warmly humorous and nostalgic essays in Good-bye 10 Poplarhaven (1985) and The Proper Edge of the Sky (UUP, 1992); chuckling wickedly over the gender-bender satires of Elouise Bell, especially “The Meeting” and “Zzzzzucchini,” in Only When I Laugh (1990); or more wickedly in Paul Toscano’s brilliant Music and the Broken Word: Songs for Alternate Voices (Signature, 1991), the reading or singing of which in any company is bound to result in a visit from your bishop. One can’t help smiling through Louise Plummer’s refreshingly thoughtful, un- barbed, thoughtful yet apolitical essays in Thoughts of an Idle Grasshopper (1992); of lighting one's way to MIA by the glow of any one of Janene Wolsey Baadsgaard’s Erma Bombeckian revels in life’s ubiquitous ironies, as portrayed in Families Who Laugh Last (1992). ‘The bibliography attests to an upsurge in the comic novel, which may be the most difficult of all genres to write. Among such New Mormon Comedy is Joni Hilton's very funny trilogy, As the Ward Turns (Covenant, 1991), Around the Ward in 80 Days (1993), and Scrambled Home Evenings (1994), the continuing manic saga of madcap Andy and Brian Taylor, crazy Edith Horvitz, and ‘an asylum of eccentric kids and relatives, Curtis Taylor, who has converted from writing comic novels to serious LDS book publisher, wrote the uneven but often funny The Invisible Saint (Curtis a _ Pub., 1990). Beginning (and ending) with two hilarious funerals, Taylor tells the story of a young man who mistakenly becomes, first, a nonentity, and, second, an invisible man, which he parlays into some funny adventures as a kind of Invisible Home Teacher who brings to pass much righteous- ness—and finds, at last, True Love and Visibility. One of the best of the New Mormon Comedy is still Kathryn Kidd's Paradise Vue (Hatrack River, 1991), about a crazy clutch of human foibles packed into a newly called ward Relief Society presidency. This very funny episodic novel realizes Robert Frost's idea about the essentially serious nature of the comic: “If it is with outer serious- ness, it must be with inner humor. If it is with outer humor, it must be with inner seriousness. Neither one alone without the other under it will do.” Because of the location of the stained-glass western windows in their chapel, members of Paradise Vue ward must wear sunglasses to sacra- ment meeting to see the speaker. In that comic setting and centered in a brand-new Relief Society, Kidd undertakes to reveal some surprising twists and foibles beneath the comic surfaces, Humor, generally spontaneous, surprising and thus danger- ‘ous, may bang alarmingly on one’s front door. Paradise Vue, one of Mormon literature’s funniest books, occasionally unnerves readers made uncom- fortable with the proximity and degree of the heat, or by the uncanny similarity between their own and the character's foolishness, shortcomings or pratfalls—or, perhaps more to the point in Para- dise Vue—makes some readers impatient with the sense that the Relief Society president acts at once wrongly, too-Mormonly, and most un-feminist-like in attempting to assume some of the blame for her ‘unfaithful husband’s hurtful philanderings. ‘A bright and hope-engendering newcomer to the Mormon comic novel is Robert F. Smith's Baptists at Our Barbeque (Aspen Books, 1996). The delightful story of Tartan Jones, twenty-nine, returned missionary, jilted wife-seeker, and forest ranger. Seeking a fresh start, he accepts a transfer to Longfellow (nicknamed “Longwinded”), some- where in the mountains of the Southwest. His arrival in town shifts the balance between Baptist, and Mormons and brings to white heat the long- standing rivalry between the two faiths. Mean-while, Tartan sets stole half of the Mormon mobile assisted by ‘out to solve the mystery of who chapel, gladly recently jilted Charity Hall, another new LDS arrival, Tartan undertakes to unify the town through hosting an “All Faiths Barbeque,” solve the mystery of the missing chapel, and marry Charity. Smith is a gifted and witty storyteller in the tradition of Samuel W. Taylor and full of ideas for a clutch of comic novels which entertain without pain. ‘The brightest light in the Mormon humor essay is Robert Kirby. His Sunday of the Living Dead (Buckaroo Books, 1995) Wake Me for the Resur- rection (Buckaroo, 1996), and Pat and Kirby go 10 Hell (or Heck, if you buy it at Deseret Book) (1997), all illustrated by Pat Bagley, are delightful and refreshing collections of Kirby's Mormon essays from his newspaper columns in the Salt Lake Tribune (and Provo's Daily Herald), plus new material, His dedication at the front of Wake Me for the Resurrection makes clear Kirby's tone of light-hearted and wacky deconstruction of Mormon and human society: “This book is dedi- cated to anyone who has been forced to seriously consider the possibility that Larry, Moe, and Curley were the Three Nephites.” And in Kirby's hand-written inscription in my copy of Resurrec- tion he has written: “Richard . . . Thanks for everything. Hopefully, God won't hold it against you. R Kirbyf.]" Following the humor dynamic made particularly ‘American by Mark Twain, Kirby identifies an LDS convention, pretension, or folkway, balloons it by his descriptions to enormous proportions, distortions, and absurdities, then sticks in the pin of satire, and shrivels the exaggeration to a dimin- ished thing, restoring its merely human contexts ‘and proportions. Among other topics, Kirby examines “5 Kinds of Mormons” (Liberal, Genu- ine, Conservative, Orthodox and Nazi); to strike a palance, he examines “5 Kinds of Non-Mor- mons" Ignorant Nons, Tolerant Nons, Irked Nons, Furious Nons, and Rabid Nons). Irked Nons, he insists, “have a hard time understanding, why a state founded by Mormons, populated largely by Mormons, and generally run PY ‘Mor- mans should reflect mostly Mormon values." In 2 “A Moving Experience” he reflects on the two- hundred-plus times he has moved freezers from Saints’ basement apartments at the behest of the elders’ quorum presidency and concludes that in the interest of gender equality, “it’s the Relief Society's turn.” And while boasting of his and Sister Kirby's record four-month stint as ward rnursery workers, he growls about the incessant noise, “I can’t vouch for the offspring of other faiths, but the average Mormon kid separated from its mom makes more noise than a Chihuahua being sucked through a Shop Vac.” In his hilar ‘ous “If I Was the Bishop,” he announces his platform should he ever become bishop of the Dogpatch 8th Ward (“AMI small children .. . must ‘now wear muzzles in the chapel,” and “Up-to-the- minute sports scores will be electronically posted ‘ona board in the chapel near the hymn numbers"), In Resurrection, he ponders the Mormon penchant for meetings, Mormon fashion, and the plight of Gentiles in sainted Utah, and concludes, “The truth is that Mormons ARE weird. . . . (But) anyone ‘who thinks Mormons are the weirdest bunch of people they've ever seen doesn't get around much.” Endowed with a fine sense of how far to go and what Tines not 0 cross, Kirby makes us faugh at ourselves without threatening our spiritual cquilibeium. This cantankerous but believing Saint oat wide-awake fellow citizen in the household of God equipped with a builtin MRI—allows Saints ‘and Ain’ts to look again at Mormon life from a re freshing and delightful perspective. Robert Kirby's columns are simply the best LDS humor of its Kind. Long may he live. conclude this survey of recent Mormon humor by noting three more recent Funny Fictions all from Orson Scott Card's Hatrack River Press You're a Rock, Sister Lewis (1989), by Susan Dean Smallwood, is a comical story of a Mormon Super-Mom (“a rock”) on the edge. Blessed with a large family, a handicapped child, a bishopric member husband with back problems, and a new calling as ward Young Women president, Sister Lewis muddles Mormonly through in this Cope- On-with-a-Vision-and-a-Smile novel. In The Alphabet Year (Hatrack River, 1991), Kathryn H. Kidd does it again—recounting this time the perils of Kate Carbine, who with husband and threeyoung children moves to Salt Lake City from San Francisco. As in Paradise Vue, though pethaps not as effectively, Kidd builds the episodes of this funny book around Mormon characters on the block and in the ward, some of whom form a wild and woolly child-care co-op and plan daily activi- ties suggested by letters of the alphabet (hence the litle). The third novel, Lisa Ray Tumer's Pray Away Pounds (Hatrack River, 1993), features Ella Oliver, the 203-pound participant in the ward diet group, which meets weekly to sing comy slim- ming hymns (“There is beauty all around/When we lose some weight"). In this featherweight tale, Ella champions a variety of causes, including her husband’s mid-life crisis, her daughter's teenage surlies, assorted crises among her weighty sister- hood, and, at last, her own late-life pregnancy. ‘Skim milk at best, Pray Away Pounds resembles Ella’s corsetted figure, uplifting and of good report—and it presents timely, tested recipes at the beginning of most chapters to boot! v In comment on some apparent directions in Mormon humor by introducing this bibliography into our ongoing conversation on Mormon letters, I fear that I might be party to fostering the kind of literary scrutiny which Edgar Allan Poe attacks in his sonnet, “To Science,” when he complains ‘about scientific analysis, which “alterest all things with thy peering eyes!” Inexplicable spontaneity is key to the grasp and bite of effective humor. ‘When we set out to analyze the conditions which beget Mormon humor and the nature of its recep- tion and its particular tone, or, in this instance, why the body of Mormon humor is or is not larger than at present, or how we might “promote” Mormon, I wonder if we are not, by paying too much attention to tracking the minutiae, driving Poe's “Hamadryad from the wood” through smoth- ering the magic of the art of humor or grounding the inexplicable flash of natural wit or a dash of off-the-cuff humor by our great—and too often ‘manufactured—expectations. After all, our think- ing seems to be, the True and Living Church must also engender the True and Living Humor, Novel, Short Story, Poem, etc. And, by the Powers of 2B 9 Correlation, we're going to have it, now. ‘A few years ago as a BYU official, I attended a luncheon honoring Dr. Thomas Plummer, then a professor of German at the University of Minneso- ta, following a forum address. Jae Ballif, brilliant scientist and BYU provost, expressed amazement at a spontaneous quip I made at this luncheon and asked me to explain, step by step, just how the statement occurred to me. I chuckled, said I really didn’t know how to solve the mystery, and re- called Hemingway's dictum, when asked to ex- plain his writing craft and secrets, something to the effect of, “I don't want to talk the mystery away.” Here's the quip: As the provost rehearsed the difficulty BYU had experienced in scheduling Dr. Plummer’s visit at a time when the forum is held yet at Dr. Plummer’s convenience, he went into ‘considerable detail, pointing out the nearly impos- sible task of reconciling Tom's schedule and BYU's schedules. “We despaired of ever getting Dr. Plummer here; we even thought of bringing him here for a fireside,” he sighed. At which point 1 simply inserted: “But we all know how tough it is to get a Plumber on a weekend.” ‘This recent outburst of Mormon humor, cited in “An Annotated Bibliography of Literary Mormon Humor,” may not clearly define a movement or even a trend, but it shows the outcropping of a vein which throbs just under the Mormon skin. ‘Aware of its presence, most of us delight in its sudden, happy, and welcome surfacing. It makes the trip toward discipleship and sainthood, not intended for difficulty-free wayfaring, just a little more tolerable, Once again, Mark Twain got it right: “Humor is the great thing, the saving thing at last. The minute it crops up all our hardnesses yield, all our irritations and resentments slip away, and a sunny spirit takes their place.” RICHARD H. CRACROFT is past president of the ‘Association for Mormon Letters, 2 former chairman of BYU's English Department, and current director of its Conter for the Study of Christian Values in Literature,‘THE BOOK OF MORMON AS. LITERATURE The Book of Mormon as Epic Richard Dilworth Rust Kathy Fowkes, in a message on the Association for Mormon Letters e-mail list, said: “It_has always struck me that one of the reasons the Book of Mormon is so readable is because it has @ fantastic epic plot structure.” Kristen Randle on the same list said that, after reading Tolkein's The Lord of the Rings, it im- pressed her that the Book of Mormon likewise was a tale of the epic journey. believe they're right. This story of Father Lehi and his descendants has such a sweep in time and scope in space and import that it could well be called an epic. And placed by Moroni within the Nephite epic is the story of the Jaredites which, Hugh Nibley persuasively argues, comes right out of an epic milieu (World, 214), In the largest view, the Book of Mormon can also be considered as having the timelessness, sweep of significance, and scope of meaning of cosmic drama. Just as the Old ‘Testament has been considered an epic in its character and range of concern, so the Book of Mormon has the breadth and inclusiveness that British scholar E, M. W. Tillyard considered as epic traits. It comes out of a crisis: Mormon is ‘abridging the entire history of the Nephite nation at the time when that civilization is being annihi- lated. And it contains the elements Leland Ryken finds characteristic of an epic: scope; nationalistic emphasis, with narrative motifs including warfare and rulership; a historical impulse, with allusions to key events in the life of a nation; a supernatural context in which the action occurs; and an epic structure of episodic plot with recurrent patterns or situations (127-29). DEFINITION OF EPIC Meyer Abrams notes that literary epics common- ly have the following features: 1, “The hero is a figure of great national or even cosmic importance.” 24 2. “The setting is ample in scale, and may be worldwide, or even larger.” 3, “The action involves superhuman deeds in battle . .. or a long and arduous journey intrepidly accomplished.” 4, “In these great actions... supernatural beings take an interest or an active part.” '5, “An epic poem is a ceremonial performance, and is narrated in a ceremonial style which is deliberately distanced from ordinary speech and proportioned to the grandeur and formality of the heroic subject and epic architecture” (52). ‘Regarding the place in the action an epic starts, Gabriel Josipovici says that “epic does not so much tell a story as recount for the community the ‘main features of its world, and it does not there- fore much matter where you begin, since any opening will eventually allow you to articulate the whole” (61). ‘As we look at the Book of Mormon with the above features in mind, we find that the book is an epic in its own way. 1. Hero. The Book of Mormon has a number of heroes of national importance such as the prophet- warriors Nephi, Gideon, Ammon, Captain Moroni, Moronihah, and Mormon, All perform many deeds ‘of valor, courage, and strength. Lehi himself, 3s Hugh Nibley has shown in An Approach to the Book of Mormon, is a product of a heroic age (29-35)! ‘The book contains many captivating individual deeds of valor, courage, and strength such as Nephi’s lone quest for wild game, Alma's hand-to-hand combat with Amlici, Ammon’s protecting the king's flocks at the waters of Sebus, and Captain Moroni’s bearing valiantly his title of liberty at the head of freedom-loving forces. In a sense, all these heroes are contained within one hero, Nephi, and he, in tum, is a representa- tive of Christ. At the fountainhead of his nation ‘and people, Nephi becomes more than an individu-al hero, He is a prophet-king after whom subse- quent kings are titled and from whom the central Book of Mormon group is named. Further, leaders such as Alma, Amulek, and Mormon claim to be pure descendants of Nephi and identify with him (Mosiah 17:2; Alma 10:2-3; Morm. 1:5).? ‘The original title with which Nephi's record begins, “The First Book of Nephi; His Reign and Ministry,” implies that this is the story of a whole people, represented in Nephi. “I, Nephi,” the first words of the Book of Mormon, thus suggests not only “I, individual,” but “I, king,” and “I, peo- ple”—indeed, a whole race of people going down through time, As with Jacob's blessing to Joseph, Lehi’s prophetic blessing to his son refers more to Nephi's “seed” or posterity. For his part, Nephi ‘sees the history of his people down through time, including their destruction as a people (see 1 Ne. 11-15, 22), In vision he beholds multitudes of people in the land of promise and numberless ities. He sees wars and “great slaughters with the sword,” culminating in a great destruction fol- lowed by the visit of Christ to the Nephites. After righteousness to the fourth generation, multitudes gather together to a battle in which Nephi's seed is overpowered. Further, he sees the fate of the house of Israel down to the end-time. ‘The interpretation Nephi receives of Lehi's dream of the tree of life prefigures the epic drama of the entire history. In the dream, concourses of people move through a mist of darkness, some 10 catch hold of an iron rod that leads them to a tree laden with precious fruit, others to go astray and ‘drown of to enter a “great and spacious building” from which they point fingers of scorn at those who partake of the fruit. In the interpretation given to Nephi while he is “caught up into an exceeding high mountain” (1 Ne. 11:1), the tee represents the love of God, the iron rod is the word of God, and the spacious building is the pride of the world. ‘The dream symbolically sets forth the fate of “multitudes of people” as they joumey through life, face tests and temptations, and then suffer ignominious death, become haughty in their vanity ‘and pride, or accept God’s love. ‘The last part of “The First Book of Nephi” and the central section of “The Second Book of Nephi” put the epic action on a cosmic level. Here the story of the Lehites is linked with Isaiah's prophecies about the scattering and then gathering of the entire house of Israel. Ultimately the “king- dom of the devil will tremble and all who belong to it must be brought low in the dust.” Opposed to it will be “the kingdom of the Holy One of Israel” (1 Ne. 22:22). Nephi records for his posterity the opposition between “liberty and eternal life” or “the captivity and power of the devil” (2 Ne. 2:27) in a revelation “from the beginning of the world to the ending thereof” (2 Ne. 27:7). Then in his parting testimony, Nephi looks into the past ("I have written [that which is} of great worth”), the present ("{ pray continually for my people”), and the future—combining both past and present when he says ("I speak unto you as the voice of one crying from the dust”) (2 Ne. 33). He completes this time cycle by saying that as the head or father of a people, he will meet them at the judgment ay, While the earth shall eventually pass away, his people will be saved by knowing their roots and acting on the prophetic counsel of their fa- thers, (In this regard, see also Alma 9:8-13.) In the frame of the book, Mormon becomes in effect the last Nephi, He is a spokesman for his, nation who comments on its main spiritual events ‘and, with his son, concludes its record and pre- serves it in condensed form for future generations. For his part, Moroni presents a dual epical over- view. He closes out the history of the Nephites and surveys the entire history of the Jaredites who were destroyed about the time the Nephite civiliza- tion began. In some parts of the Book of Mormon, “Nephi” is synonymous with “the people of God” (Alma 2:11). The representative of the original Nephi, whether Abinadi, Alma, or Aaron, contains within him some of that quality. He may be strong, physically, but his greatest strength is moral. He has power of the sort Abinadi claims before King Noah and his priests: “Touch me not, for God shall smite you if ye lay your hands upon me” (Mosiah 13:3). In each case, the Book of Mormon hero is an unlikely one. Nephi and Moroni are acutely aware of their weaknesses, King Mosiah’s sons Ammon and Aaron are humbly willing to be servants in the missionary cause, and Captain Moroni is reluctant to shed blood unless greatly pressed to it, Whengreat strength or resourcefulness is shown, the Book of Mormon hero invariably gives credit to the Lord. Often that strength is verbal, as in ‘Alma’s opposition to Korihor, or quietly coura- geous, as in Abinadi’s return to testify to the people of King Noah despite the threat of death. ‘The truly central hero of the Book of Mormon is Jesus Christ. It is he who gives direction to the other heroes and whose redeeming power is affirmed throughout the book, climaxing at his personal visit. He is the hero whom the others represent. As Ammon declares, “I know that am nothing; as to my strength I am weak; therefore I will not boast of myself, but I will boast of my God, for in his strength I can do all things” (Alma 26:12). And each mortal hero is also a type of Christ. For instance, stilling the storm like Christ, Nephi further is like him in being an obedient son, a forgiving brother, a skillful carpenter, and a pilot. King Benjamin is a type of Christ the heav- enly King. And Alma comes to new life after being like dead for three days and three nights. 2, Setting. Settings in the Book of Mormon are epic in nature. They are vast and involve large- scale migrations of peoples and population of whole lands and islands of the sea. The setting of the main story is implicitly the known mideastern world, the Indian and Pacific oceans, and the Promised Land of America. The Jaredite story has ‘a similarly vast setting and is a concentrated epic contained within the Nephite story as a second witness to the extremes of the Nephite experience. Both narratives contain the linked beginning of a vision and escape to a promised land, a rapid overview of the rise and fall of a civilization, and an end in total collapse and destruction. Each setting has also a spiritual plane, the world of God’s eternal purposes “prepared from the foundation of the world” and the ultimate destiny of mankind (Alma 42:26). These two settings are initially found in Lehi's dream which tells of his family members making choices of everlasting import. They may partake of the fruit of the tree of life or choose to join the multitude in a great and spacious building. Then throughout the book there are frequent reminders that Jerusalem of Judea has a counterpart in the heavenly Jerusalem, that “the kingdom of heaven is soon at hand” 26 (Alma 5:50). At this cosmic level, particular human experience symbolizes man's general destiny. 3, Action, As there are both physical and spiti- tual dimensions to the setting, so the action of the Book of Mormon takes place on human and divine levels. The human is mainly a cycle of humbling leading to repentance leading to prosperity leading to pride leading to destruction. This pattern has @ time scale of a generation or more, guaranteeing that each individual has the opportunity to make choices. Thus it is a linear experience for the individual and cyclical for the generations of the Nephites. On the divine level, ultimate blessings or punishments are promised. ‘On the human plane, for instance, the Nephites in Alma 16 win the physical victory over the desolating Lamanites who have made incursions into the land of the Nephites. But there is another battle as well—the battle of righteousness. The first blow was the destruction of the wicked people of Ammonthah; the second comes with ‘Alma and his friend Amulek going forth to preach the word throughout all the land, and getting “the victory over the devil” (Alma 16:21). Both of these cycles illustrate the repeated statement by the Lord: “Inasmuch as ye shall keep ‘my commandments ye shall prosper in the land; but inasmuch as ye will not keep my command- ments ye shall be cut off from my presence” (2 Ne. 1:20; see also Jarom 1:9; Omni 1:6; Mosiah 1:7; Alma 9:13; 36:30; 37:13; 3 Ne. 5:22). This blessing or curse provides an epic rhythm in the Book of Mormon because of its encompassing @ whole people, past, present and future. The firm connection between righteousness and existence a8 a nation is evident on a large scale with the Nephite civilization, In a relatively brief example, it is shown in the fate of the Jaredites, who “did not repent; therefore they have been destroyed” (Alma 37:21). As with the Nephite civilization, this is the dark end of an earthly society. Against that, however, is the continuation of a divine society: Ether and Moroni end their records with references to being ‘‘saved in the kingdom of God” ‘and having “rest in the paradise of God.” ‘As is often typical of epics, many narratives in the Book of Mormon begin in the middle of theaction, with the interest being on why something happens rather than on what happens. We know the ending of the Nephite story from the begin- ning. Lehi recounts to his children the Babylonian captivity, the coming of the Messiah, the travels of his people to the land of promise, the time when the Gentiles would receive the fullness of the gospel, and the final return to the Messiah of the remnants of the house of Israel (1 Ne. 1). Nephi’s tevelation of the implications of Lehi's tree of life vision gives in brief the whole of the Nephite experience, down to the final devastation in the fourth generation after the coming of Christ (1 Ne. 12). Likewise, Mormon introduces his abridgment by confirming Nephi’s prophecies. Yet the real end is still to come: Mormon supposes that his son Moroni “will witness the entire destruction of my people” (Words of Mormon 1:2). Thus we read ‘Mormon’s abridgment knowing all the while the major outcome of the story but still wanting to know the final details as told by Moroni. In the ‘Words of Mormon at the beginning of his record, ‘Mormon prepares us to focus on why the Nephites were destroyed. He then asks the larger question about the eventual eternal destiny of the people and prays that a remnant of them will receive the life-giving message of his sacred record, We are told what will happen in the future before getting the details of major events such as ‘the annihilation of the Jaredites, the coming of Christ to the Nephites, the destruction of the wicked city Ammonihah, and the success of the sons of Mosiah, The last is a representative exam- ple: At the beginning of the extensive account of their missionary journey, we lear that the sons of Mosiah “had been teaching the word of God for the space of fourteen years among the Lamanites, having had much success in bringing many to the knowledge of the truth” (Alma 17:4). ‘This pattern of anticipation is illustrated in the story of the people of Zeniff. We begin the story with Zeniff's grandson, Limbi, and his people in bondage to the Lamanites. Then in Limhi’s dis- course to his people we leam what has led up to that bondage. He tells of Zeniff's migration, refers to trickery of the Lamanite king, and alludes to a slain prophet of the Lord (Abinadi). We thus learn 21 the fate of the people and get something of an overview, although we do not know exactly how the story will end. Then Limhi has Ammon read the plates containing the record of Zeniff’s people from the time they left Zarahemla. From this we learn the why and how of what we already knew. ‘Afterwards the story of the Zeniffites is completed as Ammon the explorer assists Limhi and his people in their escape from bondage back to Zarahemla. ‘This same pattern occurs in the account of the Jaredites. At several points prior to the Book of Ether, we are informed that the Jaredites have been completely destroyed, leaving behind twenty- four gold plates. We also learn early of Corian- tumr, the last living Jaredite, We are kept in anticipation by Mormon’s promise that the account would be written “hereafter; for behold, it is expedient that all people should know the things which are written in this account” (Mosiah 28:19) —a promise fulfilled by Moroni with the Book of Ether, Knowing all this, the reader is eager along with Limhi to know the contents of those twenty- four engraved gold plates: “Perhaps they will give us a knowledge of a remnant of the people who have been destroyed, from whence these records came” (Mosiah 8:12), Again, the reader’s concern is with knowing why the people have been de- stroyed and what the lesson is in that destruction. ‘This “middle of the action” structure in the Book of Mormon is paralleled and reinforced by prophetic structure. Before going sequentially through the story of the sons of Mosiah, for example, the narrator gives us Alma’s report that they are alive and well, that they had “much success in bringing many to the knowledge of the truth,” and that they suffered much, both in body and in mind (Alma 17:1-5). Soon after this report ‘we are told that at the beginning of their danger- ‘ous missionary venture the sons of Mosiah learned through the Spirit they would be patient in long- suffering and afflictions and would be an instru- ‘ment in the Lord's hands unto the salvation of many souls (Alma 17:11). Thus the essential events are known ahead of time—both by foretell- ing of the narrator and by prophecy. ‘The Book of Mormon epic provides, if you will, a “backward” story. Jaredite records seen by KingMosiah gave “an account of the people who were destroyed, from the time that they were destroyed back to the building of the great tower, . . . yea, ‘and even from that time back until the creation of ‘Adam” (Mosiah 28:17). Whether or not the record progressed this way, the interest was from the foregone event (the destruction) back to its origins (the time they were scattered at the building of the great tower), and then back to the very beginning (the creation of Adam). The interest thus is differ- ent from that of a regular story: we care much more about knowing the whys than the whats. ‘Middle of the action” structure also allows for an ironic dimension, For example, King Noah’s people tell him: “We are strong, we shall not come into bondage, or be taken captive by our enemies” (Mosiah 12:15). Yet at that point we already know that wicked King Noah and his people were brought into bondage. Indeed, we think of the people as still in bondage and wonder how they ‘are going to get out of it. Finally, this structure underlines the constant relation of past, present, and future in the Book of ‘Mormon. In his parting testimony, Nephi speaks of great worth in that which he has written, prays continually for his people, and speaks to a future audience “as the voice of one crying from the dust” (2 Ne. 33). Alma, too, considers both past and future from the perspective of the present: He always remembers the captivity and deliverance of his fathers, he rejoices in the present repentance of many of his brethren, and he looks forward to bringing some soul to repentance, with the hope that his redeemed brethren will enter the timeless state of the heavenly kingdom of God “to go no more out” (Alma 29:11-22), In this respect, Isaiah is particularly important in providing prophetic texts which present the judg- ‘ments of God upon Israel in the sweep of time. A ‘voice out of Israel’s past, Isaiah establishes the grand connection with the House of Israel in the Old World, the remnant of Israel in the New World, and modern-day Israel~-with many of his prophecies yet to be fulfilled. 4, Supernatural Beings. As with ancient poetic epics, a hallmark of the Book of Mormon is the way supernatural beings are involved in events, from Lehi’s initial vision of God's dealings with 28 man in the duration of the earth’s existence to ‘Moroni’s declaration that at the judgment bar God shall affirm the truth of his writings. ‘There is hardly a page of the Book of Mormon that does not contain some reference to divine intervention or revelation, In the initial pages we are told of Lehi’s vision of God on his throne and see the angel protecting Nephi against the physical abuse of Laman and Lemuel; we learn of Alma the elder’s people fleeing their captors during the day while their guards were in a profound sleep ‘caused by the Lord, and of Alma’s son being confronted by a chastising angel. Most noteworthy are the appearances of Jesus Christ. ‘Supernatural powers in the Book of Mormon are not directed by whim, as might be found in a Greek epic. Rather, they function in accordance with people's faith. For example, after Nephi triggers the wrath of his brothers when he breaks his steel bow, he is directed by means of a brass ball, the Liahona, to a mountain top where he slays wild beasts for food. After the rebellious brothers bind up Nephi and cause the Liahona (the ship's navigation system) to fail, the ship is kept from going down only by their untying Nephi. (In ‘an interesting turn on the Jonah story, the main ‘company is at fault, and it is the loosing of a righteous man—not the casting away of an unrigh- teous one—that brings calm.) ‘Overarching all the interrelationships of heaven- ly powers and men are revelations given to Lehi, Nephi, Mormon, and others showing conditions of the world from the beginning to the end thereof. One effect of this is to extend the epic scope of the Book of Mormon to include all humankind; another is to illustrate that past, present, and future are one eternal round with the Lord. 5, Ceremonial Performance. At first glance, the Book of Mormon is hardly a poem, let alone a ceremonial performance. It is true that divine revelations as well as prayers and many other impassioned declarations or appeals are actually related to Hebraic poetry. Yet an epic need not be in poetry. As John P. McWilliams Jr. argues in his book The American Epic: Transforming a Genre, “qurable and persuasive epics may appear in prose rather than verse,” for “the essence of epos is heroic narrative” (217, 216).‘The ceremonial quality of the book is supported, too, by the numerous formal occasions in which People often are taught, such as Lehi’s last injunc- tions to his sons, King Benjamin's address, and the parting testimonies of Nephi, Mormon, and Moroni. In the incident of Mosiah’s reading the records of the people of Zeniff to those gathered at Zarahemla, we see a parallel with the Book of Mormon as a whole: they (and thus the reader) earn about a people through their records. Mos- iah’s audience have mixed feelings about what they hear—they rejoice over those Zeniffites who had been delivered out of bondage, and shed tears of sorrow over their brethren slain by the Laman- ites; they are grateful for God's power in behalf of ‘Alma and his people, and are pained for the plight of the sinful Lamanites, THE EPIC OF RETURN AND THE EPIC OF WRATH Northrop Frye in Anatomy of Criticism finds in the Bible two epic frameworks, “the epic of return and the epic of wrath.” In the first, “the movement is first down and then up to a permanently re- deemed world.” The “epic of wrath” is the cycle of human life without redemptive assistance, ending with “bondage, exile, continuing war, or destruction by fire (Sodom, Babylon) or water (the flood)” (317). In the Book of Mormon, the end of ‘an epic of wrath or what Frye calls the “all too human” cycle is the destruction of the unrepentant Nephites (and, in a parallel, of the wicked Jared- ites), The conclusion of an epic of return or what Frye calls the divine cycle is found in Moroni’s last words in which he says he will meet his readers at the bar of God. He speaks to them, he says, “out of the dust.” ‘When I shared some of these views with Benson Parkinson, he asked: Is there a compelling reason to call the Book of Mormon epic beyond the fact that it shares certain rhetorical features with epics? Do we gain anything that isn’t already present in the term “scripture.” Also, it seems to me epics are national in their appeal as well, that they are books written for a nation, They're the songs that define a nation, that a nation sings to itself. ‘Would you buy that? And yet the Book of Mormon was ‘written in the twilight of Nephite nationhood, and not 29 for the Nephites. In response I said: buy your characterization of epic totally; I would just broaden the definition of the audience of the Book of Mormon, Nephi, himself, was conscious of an audience for his writings made up in the latter days of his brethren (the Lamanites) and the remnant of his people (descendants of Nephi absorbed into the larger body of the Lamanites). Moroni in the Title Page says his primary audience is the Lamanites~and a major ‘purpose was {o show them ("the remnant of the House of Israel”) the great things the Lord had done for their fathers. I see epic elements in the Book of Mormon being justified to the extent that they form, in parts, a poetic history of a people, telling them who they are (especially after that knowledge was long forgotten). In the terms set forth by Moroni, the record brought forth “out of the dust” of centuries past becomes a living epic in claiming to speak to descendants of the people treated in the record. It gives them their origins, presents the truth about the heroic Nephi (the people as well as the man and his subsequent representatives), shows God’s dealings with their people over a millennium of time, and challenges them to “come forth out of obscurity” (2 Ne, 1:23) caused by disobedience and by repressions of latter-day Gentiles, As Alma instructed his son Helaman, the Book of Mormon Plates were destined to “retain their brightness” (1 Ne, 5:18-19, Alma 37:45). And how do they retain their brightness? They come alive for the audience which receives them. They are a continu- ing epic of Lehis people. On an even larger scale, they give meaning to humankind’s general destiny. ‘As Kristen Randle recognized, the Book of ‘Mormon tells the story of the grand journey. A seeker like Dante entering a dark wood might well identify with Lehi in his dream of striving to find his way to the tree of life. The journey motif is a familiar pattern, as Richard Cracroft pointed out in a talk on “Divine Designs.” For him, one meta- phor or pattern of the plan of salvation and re- demption of mankind is that of a journey from eternity to eternity. He saw himself “trekking the plains of mortality as a heaven-directed pioneer, or as a mariner on a heavenly voyage.” The spiritual epic journey as defined in the Book of Mormon isa perilous one. It requires, as Mormon says, laying hold on the word of God which will “lead the man of Christ in a strait and narrow course across that everlasting gulf of misery which is prepared to engulf the wicked~and land their souls, yea, their immortal souls, at the right hand of God in the kingdom of heaven” (Hel. 3:29-30). The book ends with that intrepid traveler Moroni saying, 1 shall “meet you before the pleasing bar of the ‘great Jehovah, the Eternal Judge of the both quick and dead” (Moro. 10:34), In that broadest sweep of time and space, the book is an epic, indeed. RICHARD DILWORTH RUST, a professor of English at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, bas ‘written numerous papers and articles on Book of Mormon structure and imagery. NOTES 'Nibley comments, “It was not until early in the present century that H. M. Chadwick {in The Heroic Age] pointed out what should have been obvious to everyone, namely that epic literature, a large and important segment of the human record, is the product not of unrestrained poetic fancy but of real years of teror and gloom through which the entire race has been foreed to pass from time to time. We now have good reason to believe... tbat the violence of the elements that forms the somber backdrop of the ‘Epic Milieu’ was more than a literary convention” (Tenting,” 598). ‘This relationship of Nephi to his peoples central to an epic. According to Cleanth Brooks, R. W. B. Lewis, and Robert Penn Warren, an epic gives us “the story of 2 hero who typifies a people and whose career provides us with ‘a sense of the history of a people enacted and of a civil zation realized or transformed” (2190). WORKS CITED ‘Abrams. M. H. A. A Glossary of Literary Terms. Sth ed. New York: Holt, Rinehart & Winston, 1988, Brooks, Cleanth, R. W. B. Lewis, and Robert Pean Warren. “American Literature: The Makers and the Making. Vol. Crcroft, “Patter in All Things.” Unpublished paper. December 10, 1996, Frye, Northrop. Anatomy of Criticism: Four Essays Princeton, NJ: Princeton UP, 1957. Josipovici, Grabriel. The Book of God: A Response to the Bible. New Haven, CT: Yale UP, 1988. McWilliams, John, Jr. The American Epic: Transforming a Genre, 1770-1860. New York: Cambridge UP, 1990. ibley, Hugh. An Approach to the Book of Mormon. 24 ed. Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1964. —.“‘Tenting, Toll, and Taxing.” Wester Political Quarter- ly 19.4 (1966): 599-630. —. The World and the Prophets. 1954. Salt Lake City: Deseret Book/FARMS, 1987. Ryken, Leland. Words of Delight: A Literary Introduction ‘othe Bible. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Book House, 1987. ‘Tillyard, E. M. W. The English Epic and Its Background. London: Chatto and Windus, 1966. The Art of Nephite Narrative Mark D. Thomas ‘The Book of Mormon is often portrayed as a book filled with bland platitudes with no redeem- ing literary qualities. When I hear statements like this, I want to say, “But the book has yet to be uncovered.” The Book of Mormon still ies buried under a century of literary neglect—and Mormon reverence. If we have the patience to lift away that debris, we will uncover a book of folk art contain- ing narrative subtlety and craft. To begin this process of uncovering, I would like to discuss the 30 variety of narrative forms in the Book of Mormon and then discuss in some detail the narrative techniques used in the story of the city of Am- monihah (Alma 8:6-16:21). Language is a social medium requiring some degree of common convention, Even Jacques Derrida has confessed: “Every text participates in one or more genres, there is no genreless text” (Mitchell 61). Other recent authors have concluded that autobiography, history, and various forms offictional narratives all contain narrative conven- tions and forms (Frye, 95-105; Martin 57-80; Mitchell; Ricoeur). Hayden White (qtd. in Mitch- ell, 1-2) and others have indicated that there is an imaginary and formal element, even in historical narratives. Therefore, narratives, whether historical or fiction, can present reality only as it is shaped by verbal conventions, Otherwise, they become unintelligible, An example of such a formula outside the Book ‘of Mormon is “Once upon a time . . . And they lived happily ever after” as the formulae introduc- ing and ending the “fairy tale.” By using this formula, a narrator can appeal to a distant past and to a fictional genre that requires the suspension of disbelief, We have grown up with this form; and, therefore, when we hear the formulaic phrases, we ‘are prepared to enter a strange and distant world foreign to the mundane world in which we live. ‘Without conscious effort, we know how to re- spond to the narrative form. But in the case of the Book of Mormon, we are not familiar with the forms. And because most of us Jack an intimate acquaintance with the forms ‘and their frequent biblical allusions, we miss the whole function of the narrative, Once the innate grasp of the form and the accompanying biblical allusions are lost to a culture, only scholarship can reestablish that intimate dialogue with the text. We recognize narrative forms in the Book of Mormon because they contain one of two fea- tures—a routine set of events in the plot or a set of formulaic phrases, An example of literary form based on a set plot can be found in the Nephite dying heretic stories (Sherem, Nehor, and Kori- hor), Here there is a confrontation between some- one who espouses a set of false doctrines and a religious leader who espouses true doctrines. This confrontation leads to the death of the villain, which acts as a vindication of the doctrines es- Poused by the hero. It is the standard set of events in each plot that allow us to designate this as a ‘narrative form, A second example of a narrative form based on set of formulaic phrases can be found in the accounts of kings and chief judges. Some of the stock phrases include: so-and-so died, and so-and- So reigned in his stead, and so-and-so did/did not 31 i / walk in the ways of his father. The narrator evalu- ates each ruler, using these and other formulaic phrases, which are variants of the formulae de- scribing the rulers in the biblical books of Kings. ‘This Nephite king form reveals a providential and universal view of history in which the rulers form a prominent part. The dying heretic form is essen- tially doctrinal in its interest, while the king form has a broader range of interests regarding the religious nature of class and society. Each narrative form functions differently in the Book of Mormon. Some narrative forms are presented as literal history that contains a second- ary spiritual meaning. Examples are wilderness narratives and Lehi's dream. Other narratives (Conversion stories, piety/prosperity cycles, narra- tives of evil kings, stories of secret combinations, and the form of the final destruction of a nation) universalize a Nephite narrative so that the experi- ence of the reader is reshaped as another cycle in a universal history. Still other narrative forms serve principally to defend or condemn a particular doctrine (as we have scen in the dying heretic narratives). Robert Alter has provided a splendid examina- tion of the significance of narrative forms in his examination of type-scenes in the Hebrew Bible (47-62). Two of the “type-scenes” he discusses are the annunciation of the birth of a hero to his ‘mother and the encounter of the future betrothed bride at a well. Alter argues that such conventional tales were rarely static, If the fixed order of the narrative was altered or suppressed, the alteration ‘was apparent and communicated something to the audience. So what is interesting is not only the conventional form or genre itself, but the varia tions and innovations that give the form a sudden tilt for the purpose at hand (Alter and Kermode 376). How can we characterize the form of the Book of Mormon itself? It is a book about the life and especially the destruction of two civilizations. It is also certainly concemed with personal salvation and damnation; but as a social commentary, the Book of Mormon is particularly fascinated with such agencies of captivity and destruction as secret combinations, the great and abominable church, and so forth, It focuses on the agents of captivityand destruction because it is shaped as a warning to the modern Gentile reader about his or her own historical circumstances and the threat, if unrepen- tant, of being annihilated by Native Americans, by secret combinations, or at the second coming of Christ." T would like to give a concrete example of the artistry of a Nephite narrative about social destruc- tion by examining the story of the mission of ‘Alma and Amulek to the city of Ammonihah. This story contains the same threats of destruction faced by the reader—destruction from the savage Lam- anites and from the visit of Christ to the Nephites. ‘And the Book of Mormon predicts that the latter- day reader will have his or her own prophetic messenger to provide wamings of these destruc- tions. Hence, the narrative of Ammonihah repre- sents the historical circumstance of the reader. ALMA AND AMULEK IN AMMONIHAH ‘Alma preaches the gospel in Ammonihah but is forced to withdraw because of its inhabitants’ hostility. An angel appears to him and commis- sions him to return to the city and declare a ‘message. An angel also appears to Amulek, prominent citizen, and instructs him to receive ‘Alma into his home. The two join as a pair of Prophets who preach to the city. First, Alma reaches in the general terms of the waming prophet (“Repent or be destroyed”), and then he preaches of Christ. He includes the reader by making the case that the narrative is part of uni- versal history, as manifested in both Nephite and Lamanite history (Alma 9:13-14). Amulek then preaches and is engaged by Zeezrom, a leading lawyer in Ammonihah. There is a lengthy diatribe against lawyers. ‘The social elite subscribe to a theological posi- tion known as universalism which is here identi- fied with Nehor, a point the narrator reminds us of three times. The followers of Nehor taught that all people would be saved and that there was no sin. ‘The narrator's stress on the history of this doctrin- al belief reveals a doctrinal interest shaping the narrative, The judgment upon the city is God's judgment upon the evil lawyers and the practition- ers of universalism. ‘The social elite of Ammonihah reject the mes- 32 sage of the two prophets, cast out male believers, burn believing women and children to death, and deny Alma’s and Amulek’s teaching that hell is a place of fire and brimstone, The chief priest then slaps them and orders them to prison. ‘The narrative describes three visits to the prison, ‘The repetition of an event three times is common in Book of Mormon narratives, as it is in much folk literature, Like the three attempts of Nephi and his brothers to obtain the brass plates, these three visits increase the dramatic tension. In the first visit to the prison, the city's legal and univer- salist religious leaders, including the chief judge, ‘merely question the two prophets. The prophets do not answer them, In the second visit, the violence increases with mocking, spitting on, and gnashing teeth upon the two prophets. Again, there is no response recorded. (Lawyers and religious leaders also made other but undescribed visits to the prison [Alma 14:22]). In the third described visit, a large group of Tawyers, judges, and the priests and teachers of Nehor enter the prison. Each one in turn “smote” the prophets. Alma prays for deliverance, and the walls of the prison collapse, killing everyone but him and Amulek. Alma and Amulek leave the city and heal a repentant Zeezrom. After their depar- ture, Alma’s prophecy of destruction is fulfilled ‘when the Lamanites attack and completely destroy the city. However, peace is restored among the Nephite and there “was no more inequality among” the chastened people (Alma 16:16). This ending juxtaposes a countercultural element in the narrative—a benevolent and egalitarian soc- iety—with the evil legal and universalist leader- ship. THE “WARNING PROPHET” FORM ‘This Ammonihah narrative belongs to a set of narratives that I call the “warning prophet” form. In this form, a prophet warns a group that they ‘must repent or incur God's judgment. This form is a part of the universal history presented by the Book of Mormon. The book states that every nation is founded by a divinely guided migration. ‘When the society eventually turns wicked, God sends prophets to call the people to repentance. If the people do not repent, they are destroyed. Bookof Mormons prophets have several general func- tions, but these waming prophets fill a more specific function in Book of Mormon society by warning of impending judgment. ‘The Book of Mormon defines the role of the ‘warning prophet among the Jews in 2 Nephi 25:9: ‘And as one generation hath been destroyed among the Jews because of iniquity, even so tive they been destroyed from generation to generation according to their iniquities; and never bath any of them been destroyed save it were foretold them by the prophets of the Lord. ‘The individual warning prophet narratives make it clear that this providential view of history goes beyond Jewish history, and forms the basis for the formulaic plot in all history. This literary form should be understood as a universal historical ‘manifestation, The warning prophet form is char- acterized by four events: 1. The Call, God calls a waming prophet to preach to a particular people who face divine judgment. The call can be issued by the voice of God (Nephi, Samuel the Lamanite's second visit, and Ether) or by an angel (Alma, Amulek, and Samuel the Lamanite's first visit). The judgment may include pestilence, bondage, famine, war, and eventually (if wickedness becomes great enough) extermination. 2. The Proclamation of the Message. The proph- et proclaims his waming—predictions of God's ‘approaching judgment—and calls the people to repent. This message usually includes predictions of the coming of Christ and teachings on Christ's, mission, The Book of Mormon constantly reminds us that each prophet who has spoken or written hhas included a testimony of Christ (2 Ne, 25:18 Jacob 4:4, 7:11; Mosiah 13:33,15:11; Hel, 8:14-21 3.Ne. 5:1-2, 20:24; Bther 12:41; Moro. 7:23) The Nephite and Jaredite narratives both contain records of Christ's actual visitations, thus confirm- ing the universal proclamation of Christ in the prophetic teaching. In short, the prophet’s warning ‘message combines predictive warning with procla- mation. The language of the warning prophet is often graphic and intensely confrontational. 3. The People's Reaction. The prophet meets 33 CM violent rejection from the people, who are often angry (Abinadi, Nephi in Helaman, Samuel, Alma, ‘Amulek), They may call the prophet a liar, mad (Abinadi), of the devil (Alma, Amulek, Samuel), or a reviler of their laws or leaders (Alma, Amu- lek, Nephi, Abinadi). ‘They may attempt to trap him in a contradiction (Abinadi, Alma, Amulek, Nephi in Helaman), mock him (Alma, Abinadi, Samuel, Ether), revile him (Nephi in Helaman, Jaredite prophets), of attempt to bribe him to recant (Nephi in Helaman, Amulek). At times the prophet flees or is cast out but returns a second time to complete his mission (Abinadi, Alma, Samuel, Ether). After the prophet delivers his complete message, the audience may attempt to ‘all or imprison him (Abinadi, Alma, Amulek, Nephi in Helaman, Ether, Samuel the Lamanite). ‘This audience reaction is an explicit convention in the Book of Mormon: They cast them out, mock them, cast stones at them, slay them, call ‘them sinners and of the devil, and do all manner of iniquity to them “even as they did [to the prophets] of old time” (Hel. 13:24), According to Ether 8:25, the devil hardens the hearts of those who listen so they have “murdered the prophets, and stoned them, and cast them out from the beginning.” 4. The Prophet's Deliverance. Despite the violent reaction, God miraculous delivers the warming prophet. Nephi received power from the Spirit to move from one place to another when a violent audience sought to take him. Stone and arrows aimed at Samuel the Lamanite could not hithim, Alma and Amulek had the power to read ‘minds; Alma’s prayer caused the prison walls to fall upon their enemies. Abinadi was preserved until he delivered his message completely, then died a martyr. However, he is the only warning prophet in the Book of Mormon whose life is sacrificed. ‘This four-part formula in the warning prophet narrative (heavenly call, message, violent reaction, and divine deliverance) repeats itself many times in the Book of Mormon; although in the Jaredite record, it is truncated to proclamation and reaction only. I have argued up to this point that literary form and function are interrelated. The elements in the formulaic plot of the warning prophet reveal{ts important interpretive features. The warning prophet form addresses two major issues. ‘The first function of the form is a defense of the institution of prophecy. The narrator recognizes latter-day readers who disdain prophecy just as those in the Book of Mormon attacked and belit- tled both prophecy and prophets. The opening ele~ ment in the formula, a divine call from God or an angel, strengthens the prophets’ narrative, and gives both to them and to later Mormonism an independent and powerful epistemology. ‘The Ammonihah story clearly shows how the warning prophet form functions as prophetic defense. The two prophets receive angelic messag- es that verify the each other's truthfulness. When ‘Zeezrom doubts their knowledge claims, the prophets explicitly appeal to the angelic calls as the source of their knowledge, a kind of spiritual empiricism. Their divine deliverance, another example of God's active intervention, repeats the earlier narrative approbation of prophecy. Reinforcing the plot elements as a defense of prophecy is the narrator's commentary. For exam- ple, the narrator breaks the frame of the warming prophet story in Ammonihah near its beginning to foreshadow the prophetic victory that would follow: ‘And Alma went forth, and also Amulek, among the people, to declare the words of God unto them; and they were filled with the Holy Ghost. And they had power given unto them, insomuch that they could not be Confined in dungeons; neither was it possible that any man could slay them; nevertheless they did not exercise their power until they were bound in bands and cast into prison, Now, this was done that the Lord might show forth his power in them. (Alma 8:30-31) Other warning prophet narratives contain similar defenses of prophecy. In short, the first function of the warning prophet form is a vindication of prophecy, as revealed in the beginning and the ending of the warning prophet form and in inter- pretive comments by the narrator.” ‘The second function of the waming prophet form is its challenge to the prevailing culture as revealed by the universally violent reaction of those who hear the message, This reaction comes from those who afe the cultural elite and their 34 sympathizers, whose beliefs are challenged and whose behavior is condemned by the warming ‘Abinadi's prophecies indicate that one purpose of the Book of Mormon is to reveal its people's abominations to the reader (Mosiah 12:8). In narratives of warning prophets, those abomina- tions are the abominations of the social elite. Thus, the warning prophet form preaches against the social establishment and, ironically, institutionaliz- es arighteous counterculture as a necessary feature in every historical age. By recognizing these two functions of the warming prophet narratives, we are in a better position to interpret each instance of its manifesta- tion in the text. But within this framework, each example in the Book of Mormon presents a unique social circumstance. Abinadi preaches to social elites who live in sinful luxury, who do not work with their hands, and who tax the people for exorbitant building projects. It is an antimonarch- ical narrative. The warning prophet Nephi (who prays in his garden in Helaman) attacks the cor- ruption of the Nephites in allowing secret combi- nations. Generally, the warning prophets attack some form of social stratification; their attacks trigger a violent reaction from the people, thus requiring divine intervention to deliver the prophet. The Book of Mormon narrative anticipates Joseph ‘Smith's own persecution for his countercultural ‘message about the religions of his day. In the Book of Mormon, these countercultural prophets are among the greatest spiritual leaders in the Book of Mormon, ‘The Ammonihah story follows the four-part outline of the warning prophet form by originating with a divine calling, continuing with the prophet- ic message, a violent reaction from the people, and divine deliverance. Its interpretation also follows the warning prophet form: it defends prophets as character types. When a hostile audience attacks ‘Alma’s and Amulek's knowledge claims, the prophets defend themselves and prophecy as @ social institution by claiming multiple witnesses (10:12), by attributing their knowledge and author ity to angelic witnesses (11:30-31), by providing historical and scriptural precedents (9:8-25; 10:2: 12-13), and by the ultimate vindications—God'smiraculous preservation of their lives and the destruction of their enemies. ‘The story also acts as a countercultural docu- ‘ment by attacking the “establishment"—Ammoni- hah’s social elites who are destroyed by the earthquake. They are lawyers and, because of their adherence to Nehor’s teachings, universalists. The text repeatedly reminds us that Nehor's disciples believed that all would be saved, that there is no hell, and therefore that there is no need to repent. ‘The prophetic message also attacked the social structure of Ammonihah as corrupt, since a self- serving and oppressive group of lawyers and judges were the city’s leaders. ‘The narrator clarifies the intention of the Am- monihah story by telling us that the story to follow is to “show forth his power” in the prophets (Alma 8:30-32). NARRATIVE TECHNIQUES Now that we have established the literary form and how it affects our reading of the Ammonihah narrative, let us examine a few of the narrative techniques.in the Ammonihah narrative. We have already examined triple repetition as a device to increase dramatic tension prior to the climactic destruction and deliverance. Here is a brief sum- mary of a few other techniques I find interesting. First there is irony as a tool of ridicule, Alma compares the torments of the wicked to “a lake of fire and brimstone, whose flame ascendeth up forever and ever" (12:17 // Rev. 20:10), This passage counters the universalists’ belief that either there was no hell or that there was only a brief period of suffering, and that all will eventual- ly be saved. Ironically, these leaders execute believing women and children by burning them, then taunt Alma and Amulek: “After what ye have seen, will ye preach again unto this people, that they shall be cast into a lake of fire and brim- stone?” (Alma 14:14), Hell in the Book of Mor- mon is a metaphorical fire, but these leaders physically commit the metaphorical atrocity that they scorn and deny. It is also ironic that those that do not believe in hell “gnash their teeth” upon Alma and Amulek. Gnashing teeth is a biblical image associated with hell in the Bible, (Matt 8:12, 13:42, 22:13, 24:51, 25:30; Luke 13:28). 35 Irony also ridicules the legal profession in ‘Ammonihah, Because the lawyers and judges are paid by the crime, the administrators of the law have a vested interest in demonstrating that people have broken the law and, hence, in increasing the appearance of wickedness and lawlessness (10:13- 20, 11:1-20). In addition, it is these same lawyers, the defenders of the law, who deny the justice of God's law and punishment by their pronounce- ments of universal salvation. Thus, they increase crime while simultaneously denying it and its consequences. ‘The reader knows more than the people in Ammonihah, For example, the people try to discredit Alma by questioning why God would send only one person to testify such important prophecies while the reader already knows that ‘Amulek will be a second witness, Further, the people ridicule the prophets because they “absurd- ly” predict the destruction of the city—a prophecy as farfetched as the idea that the world will end. ‘The narrator makes it clear with commentary and a biblical echo that he understands that the readers believe that the world will in fact come to an end (9:1-5 / Matt. 24:35, Mark 13:31, Luke 21:33). So the ability of the reader to know more than the people of Ammonihah is used as a tool of ridicule. This gap of knowledge between the reader and the evil people in Ammonihah is a reminder of the imagery of sin in the Book of Mormon as blind- ness, sleep, and dreaming. In Ammonihah, it is called “blindness of the minds” (14:6). One final example of irony as ridicule can be found in a leadership that preaches universal equality in salvation, but builds a social class that denies equality in its actions. We will examine the impli- cations of irony in the conclusion. ‘A second feature of the Ammonihah narratives is a set of competing biblical images that mirrors the dramatic action. There are both a set of images and commentary that anticipate judgment, and a separate set of images that anticipate martyrdom. ‘These images represent the competing possible outcomes of the narrative. Will God kill the wicked people of Ammonihah or will the wicked people kill the prophets? That is the nature of the conflict in this narrative. Let us see how it is reflected in competing biblical images.‘The sermons of both Alma and Amulek contain allusions to and echoes of Matthew 3:2-8 (a passage based on Isaiah 40). The author of Mat- thew introduces John the Baptist (Matt. 3:2-8) as saying, “Repent ye: for the kingdom of heaven is at hand, For this is he that was spoken of by the prophet Esaias, saying, The voice of one crying in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make his paths straight. . . Bring forth therefore fruits meet for repentance” (// Matt. 4:17; Mark 1:3; Luke 3:4-8; Isa. 40:3; Hel. 5:32) The sermons of both of Alma and Amulek echo three phrases in this passage in different places in their sermons.* ‘The messages of warning and repentance are interesting ones for an audience that does not believe in sin or hell. The people must repent for the kingdom of heaven is at hand, The kingdom of heaven is an ambiguous term in the Book of Mormon. In this context, the kingdom of heaven refers to judgment at the coming of Christ. In ‘Alma 10:20-23, the coming of the kingdom is fulfilled in the destruction of the city. ‘A second image that apparently foreshadows judgment is in the introduction of Amulek where he is said to be a descendent of one who intespret- ed the divine writing on the wall in the temple. For the latter-day reader, this mention alludes to the famous writing on the wall at the feast in Daniel 5 that predicted Belshazzar's downfall and thus foreshadows the judgment awaiting the city of ‘Ammonihah. In Alma 9:12, 24 the people are told to repent or God “will utterly destroy you from off the face of the earth.” This phrase echoes the ‘wording of the biblical flood in Genesis. There is also an explicit comparison between the city of ‘Ammonihah and the flood in Alma 10:22. These biblical echoes and allusions indicate that the narrative of Ammonihah is understood to be a typical warning prophet plot manifest in all of history. There are other biblical allusions that refer to hell and its eternity and to the necessity for righteousness based on freedom and good works.” ‘Again, Alma quite consciously tells us that he and ‘Amulek are “unfolding” scriptures in their sermons (12:1), A number of these biblical allusions are Clearly antiuniversalist, and many refer not just to the reality of a hell, but to the hell that awaits those who deny it (Thomas, “Meaning”; Vogel). 36 In addition to the biblical echoes of destruction, there are biblical passages anticipating martyrdom. First, the story in Ammonthah resembles in certain respects the martyrdom of Adinadi, which preced- ed it,” and the prison scenes of the apostles in Acts." More significantly, the biblical echoes of John the Baptist are followed in the narratives by ‘echoes of the trial and execution of Christ. Com- peting with the biblical echoes foreshadowing judgment (based in part on John the Baptist) are the images of martyrdom in the death of Christ. Even though the narrator promises deliverance from God (Alma 8:30-31), the possibility of martyrdom remains in the minds of Amulek and ‘Zeecrom (14:12-13, 15:3). Like the enemies of Jesus, the enemies of Alma and Amulek ascribed their power to the devil (Alma 10:28, 14:7, 15:15 1 Matt. 12:24, John 7:20, et al.; see also Acts 13:10 // Alma 10:28). Like Jesus, Alma and ‘Amulek “answered him nothing” when questioned (Alma 14:17-19 // Luke 23:9; see also John 19:9). Like Pilot, those who stand in judgment on Alma and Amulek question why they do not respond, since they have the power to execute them (Alma :19 // John 19:10). Like Jesus, Alma and Amu- lek are spat upon, smitten, and taunted like Christ ‘on the cross: If ye have such great power, why do ye not deliver Ives? Then we will believe you (Alma 14:24 // Matt. 27:39-43, Mark 15:29- 32), Both Alma and Amulek cry out in words reminiscent of Jesus: “O ye wicked and perverse generation” (Alma 9:8, 10:17, 25 / Matt. 17:17, Luke 9:41). Like the enemies of Christ, the ene- mies of Alma and Amulek try to catch him in his ‘words? An earthquake rends “in twain” the prison walls, just as the temple veil is “rent in twain” at the time of the crucifixion (Alma 14:27 // Matt. 27:51). These and other verbal echoes evoke the life and death of Christ. In summary, we have here, first echoes of John the Baptist warning against the destruction of the people of Ammonihah, and then echoes of the ‘martyrdom of Jesus surrounding Alma and Amu- lek anticipating their possible deaths. This pattem points to Christ and John the Baptist as types of ‘waming prophets for the Book of Mormon. But the two sets of biblical images are compel- ing—one set pointing to the judgment of thewicked and another set pointing to martyrdom. ‘These images create dramatic tension in the Prophetic confrontation. So the spiritual struggle between God and his prophets against an evil society reverberated in the biblical echoes from Acts and the Gospels throughout the Book of Mormon narrative, Before we leave these topics, there is one more biblical allusion that dovetails with the echoes of Matthew 3, We saw how the message of John the Baptist has been universalized in the mouths of angels in every age, According to the Ammonihah narrative, every age has the angelic message preached to them, “Repent ye, for the kingdom of heaven is nigh at hand” (Alma 9:25). So the Baptist's waming message is universalized in angelic visitations. ‘Another preparatory message for Christ is found in Luke 2:10, where angels announce good tidings ‘of great joy to the shepherd. This message of joy stands in contrast to the warning of John the Baptist. We find the same contrast in the Book of ‘Mormon. Various prophetic figures in the Book of ‘Mormon see angels who announce “glad tidings of great joy” (1 Ne. 13:37; Mosiah 3: 13:21-26, 39:15-19; Hel. 5:11, 13:7, 16:13-14). ‘This phrase, “glad tidings of great joy,” is repeated over and over in the Book of Mormon and is a variant of the message declared by the angels to the shepherd near Bethlehem. In the Ammonihah narrative, Alma explains the ‘theological significance of the phrase in detail. An analysis would take us too far afield (Thomas, “Mosaic”); but this much we can say: “glad tidings of great joy” is not a one-time message for the Book of Mormon, but (like the message of the Baptist) is a universal message delivered by angelic messengers in every age to prepare the people for Christ (Alma 13:21-25). From the Teader's point of view, this is another way that the Book of Mormon universalizes a biblical passage and turns it into a literary form that addresses the reader by universalizing the biblical passage. The joy that the righteous experience in the coming of Christ contrasts with the imagery of the destruc- tion of the wicked. We find this contrast in the Ammonihah narrative. An angel appears to Alma with a message of joy, because of his faithfulness, 37 but with a voice of warning to the wicked because of their sins. ‘These competing biblical images of judgment and joy/annihilation reinforce the dramatic tension in the Ammonihah narrative and others. They represent hundreds of examples of the artful use of biblical phrases, allusion, quotations, and echoes in the Book of Mormon that, for the most part, have remained buried to our view to this day. One final technique used in the narrative is “spiritualizing” the “temporal” events. For the Book of Mormon, many of its narratives (as well as the scriptures that it quotes) contain two levels of meaning, The literal historical level is called the “temporal” meaning, and the inner, spiritual, or typological meaning is the “spiritual” level of ‘meaning. The interpretation of Lehi's dream and the writings of Isaiah explicidly refer to both narratives (1 Ne. 14:7, 15:26-32, 22:3; Thomas, Digging). But not all narratives are spiritualized in the Book of Mormon, In the Ammonihah narra- tive, the juxtaposing of the real flames and the flames of hell between the literal and spiritual is ironic, since the flames of hell are understood as metaphorical in the Book of Mormon.” The ‘Ammonihah narrative seems to end with a hint of ‘a second level of meaning in the destruction of the city. The state of the destroyed city seems to point to the repugnant spiritual state of those who deny evil: “But behold in one day it was left desolate; and the carcases were mangled by dogs and wild beasts of the wilderness . . . and they were cov- ered with a shallow covering. And now so great ‘was the scent thereof that the people did not go in to possess the land of Ammonihah for many years. And it was called the Desolation of Nehor {the prophet of universalism among the Nephites}; for they were of the profession of Nehor, who were slain; and their lands remained desolate” (Alma 16:10-11). CONCLUSION We have examined the narrative techniques used in the prophetic warning narrative form. The main functions of this form are to defend prophecy as an institution and as a critique of social stratifica- tion. In the story of Ammonthah, the social elites are lawyers, judges, and universalists. Narrativetechniques used include repetition to heighten the rama, foreshadowing, irony as a form of ridicule, editorial comment, spiritualizing the temporal, and biblical allusions, The biblical allusions include explicit quotation, paraphrase, allusion, and echo. Only a few have been examined here. But based on the evidence summarized here, it is clear that the Book of Mormon presents a countercultural ‘mosaic created from biblical images. Unlike most modern novels which seek to describe a world, the folk artistry of the Book of Mormon seeks to undermine a world and to put a new one in its place. This countercultural mosaic is offensive to both modem theology and litera- ture. The heroes of the book are pompous prophets who chastise more reasonable family members. ‘They kill to steal the word of God. Anyone who reads this book and this Ammonihah narrative and does not either burn it or read it through the night has missed the point. ‘The form certainly was a useful defense for early Mormon claims to prophecy. And it defends the mission and visionary experiences of early Mormonism against a hostile social elite, But of what use is the story of Ammonihah today? Mormonism has always maintained the visitation of divine beings as a source of know!- edge and authority, as in the warning prophet form. Yet the divine visitations narratives today are almost always commemorative of the founding events in early Mormonism, and not in any current prophet narratives. I know of no public claim to direct visitations in a warning prophet form after the 1830s. The core of the warning prophet form lies in its countercultural nature. Mormonism itself is now an institution with attorneys and judges as its leaders. And it has a kind of universalism in its doctrine of the three degrees. It is not likely that an established church would encourage warning prophets to go to Israel or Russia or the White House, telling the people to repent or they will be destroyed. Those with institutional power seek more subtle and more effective means. Hence there is no need for the hostility or the divine deliverance for the countercultural. Because it is countercultural, confrontational, and miraculous, the warming prophet form seems rather out of place for an institutional prophet. 38 One could claim that environmentalists qualify as today's prophets warning us to repent or be destroyed. There are those current universalists who say the coming of Christ will save us all and ridicule the fuss about extinction, while they ‘confine species after species to the fires. There has always been a countercultural, religious element in environmentalism, but they generally do not claim divine visitations or divine authority. One can therefore say that in the end, the narrative of Ammonihah reveals the irony in the warning prophet form. Prophetic power is just that—a claim to alternative power and authority from one who does not possess either. ‘The irony of evil is that, in the very moment that we deny the reality of hell, we create it. We find similar statements in other Mormon scriptures. In 2 Nephi 2, Lehi formulates a deductive argu- ‘ment known by logicians as an indirect argument in which he states that there must be opposition in all things. It is a definitional world that, according to Lehi, necessarily includes hell and evil. Lehi sets up a dualistic world of opposites (based on the teachings of the Greek philosopher Heraclitus) ‘in which something cannot exist without its oppo- site, Hence, Lehi argues that the concept of righ- teous is meaningless unless its opposite, unrigh- teousness, exists. ‘Another example of argument for the necessity of hell and evil is Lucifer's proposal in the preex- istence of a plan in which all would be saved, not one lost. His plan is rejected because it would destroy the agency of man (Moses 4:1-3). Because his plan of universal righteousness was rejected, Lucifer rebelled against God and became Satan. ‘As in the Ammonihah narrative, those who seek to deny evil and hell create them, There is always a kind of self-deception in the blindness of evil. ‘This irony seems to represent a general suspicion of how self-interest distorts logic and overcomes righteousness. It should be no wonder, then, that in those institutions in which we see the greatest 200d, we also find the creators of the greatest evil (arrogance in the arts, egotism and pettiness at universities, commercialism in medicine, and religious wars). Our highest hopes blind us to the hell that they create. In the story of Ammonihah, ‘we are not dealing with any elite, but with an elitethat denies damnation. The text seems to be saying that those who deny the fires of hell actually create them. Those who refuse to recognize evil and sin are its greatest perpetuators. While the warming prophet form is a literary from with no current descendants, it still belongs to the family of universal humanity. There will always be the presence of some prophet, some person who stands between the mundane and the spiritual world, who sees things that others do not see and hears things that others do not hear due to the blindness of self interest and the deafness of institutional idolatry. For many Mormons, the spiritual world consists of beings of flesh and blood. For an atheist, the spiritual world may consist in the abstract world of ethics, Whatever ‘one sees as the nature of the spiritual world, we all have heard voices and seen the vision in our dreams. The Book of Mormon is correct in recog nizing the universal role of the person out of power who will challenge our chosen blindness and our greedy deafness. We know that, in some form, we will always hear the voices of warning prophets who cross the river to the spiritual world and tell us what they see. ‘MARK THOMAS, an investment banker in Lynnwood, ‘Washington, is scriptural stadies editor for Dialogue: A Journal of Mormon Thought, has written numerous articles ‘on the Book of Mormon, and isthe author of Digging in Cumorah: Reclaiming Book of Mormon Narratives, forthcoming from Signature Books. NOTES ‘For examples ofthe danger of latter-day Gentiles being destroyed by Native Americans, see Mormon 5:21-24, 3 ‘Nephi 20:15-16, 3 Nephi 21:12 // commpare Micah 5:8-9 3 Nephi annoutees that « messenger from God (Joseph Smith) will deliver the gospel in the later ays and that, like the warning prophes in the Book of Mormon, his life will be in danger. For a representative example of the danger of the latter-day reader facing the destruction of the second coming of Christ, see 1 Nephi 22:15-23 /! Malachi 4:1, 1 Corinthians 3:14-15, Aets 2:19, Deuteronomy 18:18- 19, Leviticus 23:29, Romans 8:8. In this paper, versificn- tion is from the current Utah edition, and quotations are from the 1830 edition. iy nineteenth-century America, “visionaries” were ridiculed a8 either insane or as remnants of a former 39 superstitious age—hence readers needed to have waming prophets vindicated (Thomas, Digging). “Alma indicates that he and Amulek offer in their sermons an “unfold{ing]” or interpretation of scripture (Alma 11:1). David P. Wright has demonstrated that Alma 12-13, which discusses divine foreordination, “constitutes something of an exegetical response to Hebrews... . The nature of this response reflects a tendency 10 ground religions or doctrinal perspectivesin primordial events and revelations and to make their scope more universal” (193- 94). Wright does not, however, deal with the place of ‘Ama 12-13 in the overall setting of the Ammonibeh narrative. At first glance, Al's interpretation of discus- sion of priesthood and Melchizedek seems unrelated to the ‘surrounding sermons and narrative, However, toward the ‘end of Alma 13, it becomes clear that the discussion of “Melchizedek and the priesthood is intended as a typology for genuine religious leadership and that religious leader- ship is to create peace by declaring repentance. (Alma 13:18-31) Alma thus ties the exegesis into the warming ‘prophet narrative. If Wright's interpretation is correct, the Hebrew exegesis is linked to the Ammonihah story because both detend the legitimacy and universality of a ‘warning prophet, of which Melchizedek is an example. “Alma 9:25 and Alma 10:20 declare that God sends ‘many angels to speak to people saying some variant of, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand” as a preparation for the coming of Christ in judgment. An angelic voice “crying [in the wilderness)” is alluded to in 9:29; and “prepare ye the way of the Lord” appears once (6:28) and “bring fort fruits meet for repentance” appears three times (9:30,12:15. 13:13). Note how the Baptists message becomes # universal angelic message. *The “kingdom of heaven” seems to be equivalent to several similar phrases: “the kingdom of God,” etc. It most frequently refers exclusively tothe future state of salvation in beaven, in contrast to the kingdom of the devil, which ‘usually refers to bell. But both the kingdom of heaven and the kingdom of the devil are embiguous in the Book of ‘Mormon and can also refer to states on earth or in the judgment. For example, the kingdom of the devil is sometimes said to be manifest in evil and in evil insttu- tions on earth (1 Ne. 22:22-23, 2 Ne. 28:18-23) Beside its reference to a future heaven, the kingdom of ‘beaven refers to the judgment of God and the coming of Christ in judgment (Alma 7:9, 9:25-26, 10:20-23). The coming of the kingdom as judgment fits perfectly into the ‘warming prophet form. This idea of the coming of the kingdom as the judgment of Christ anticipates both the destruction of Ammonihah, the destruction atthe arrival of| Christ and the final destruction of the Nephites. The meaning of the coming of the kingdom in the Book of Mormon bas both an existential and countercultural clement. In this sense the echo of Matthew 3 reverberatesbeyond the narrative tothe circumstance ofthe reader on the verge of experiencing the coming of Christin judg- meat. “For a representative sample ofthe biblical parallels on this topic, see Alma 12:8,12 // Rev. 20:12, Acts 24:15, ‘Atma 12:14 1 Rev. 6:16; Alma 12:15, 13:13 / Mat. 3:8, John 1:12, Heb. 3:11, 4:5; Alma 12:17, 14:14 71 Rev. 14:10-11, 20:10; Alma 12:16, 32, 13:30; 12:36 / Psalms 95:8, Heb, 3:11; Alma 12:16, 32, 13:30 Rev. 2:11, 21:8 *Both stories follow the general outline of the warming prophet form. In addition, both stories coatain questions regarding interpretation of scripture from the leadership, and both depict martyrdom by fire. ‘These similarities are annotated in the Book of Mormon Critical Text, Vol. 1-3 (Provo, UT: FARMS, 1984-87), ‘There indeed are general similarities between the persecu- tion and miraculous escapes of the early Christian apostles and the stories of Alma and Amulek. But the verbal echoes and illusions are more prevalent in the John the Baptist scenes andthe life of Christ. The only significant verbal parallel from Acts is from the martyriom of Stephen, Acts 7:54// Alma 14:21. “Alma 10:13 // Mark 12:13, There are other verbal Parallels between Jesus and his enemies and the enemies of Alma and Amulek, such as Alma 11:23 // Matt 22:18, 23:15. "Helis “as a lake of fire and brimstone.” The “as” is ‘idded to the phrase from Revelation to make the literal metaphorical. See 2 Ne. 9:16, 19, 26; 28:23; Jacob 6:10; Mosiah 3:27; Alma 12:17. The “as” of this phrase in 2 Nephi 9:16 was added tothe 1837 edition to conform with the original understanding in other passages cited above. WORKS CITED Alter, Robert. The Art of Biblical Narrative. New Yor Basic Books, 1981. —, and Frank Kermode. The Literary Guide tothe Bibl (Cambridge: Harvard UP, 1990. Frye, Northrup. Anatomy of Criticism: Four Essays Princ. ton, NJ: Princeton UP, 1973. Martin, Wallace, Recent Theories of Narrative. Ithaca, NY: ‘Cornell UP, 1986, Brent Lee Metcalfe, ed. New Approaches to the Book of Mormon: Explorations in Critical Methodology. Sal Lake City: Signature Books, 1993, Mitchell, W. J. T., ed. On Narrative. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1981 Ricoeur, Paul. Time and Narrative, Vol. 3. Trans. Kathleen Blamey and David Pellaur. Chicago: Chicago UP, 1988, ‘Thomas, Mark D. Digging in Cumorah: Reclaiming Book of Mormon Narratives. Salt Lake City: Signature, forthcoming —. “The Meaning of Revival Language in the Book of Mormon.” Sunsione 8 (May-June 1983): 19-25. “A Mosaic for a Religious Countercultue: The Bible ia the Book of Mormon.” Dialogue: A Joumal of Mormon Thought 29 (Winter 1997): 47-68. Vogel, Dan. “Anti-Universalist Rhetoric in the Book of Mormon.” Metcalfe, 21-52. ‘Wright, David P. “In Plain Terms that We May Under stand’: Joseph Smith's Transformation of Hebrews in Alma 12-13.” Metcalfe, 165-230. The Book of Mormon and Literature Karl C. Sandberg Parley P. Pratt was introduced to the Book of Mormon with the remark that it was “a STRANGE BOOK, a VERY STRANGE BOOK” (20). After one hundred and sixty-seven years it is still a very strange book, having taken its place ‘among the elite claimants of direct revelation. And in spite of the hundreds, or thousands, of books and articles written about it, it is also a little-studied book, in the sense that most of what hhas been written about it has been in a ‘polemical mode—the real point on the agenda has not been understanding the book, but rather the establishing or the subversion and confuting of the authority which the book represents or becomes. Hence, Nathan Hatch, 2 non-Mormon historian, chides Mormon and non-Mormon scholars alike for not giving closer serious attention to the Book of ‘Mormon: For all the recent attention given to the study of Mormonism, surprisingly little has been devoted to the Book of Mormon itself. What are the patterns deep inthe grain of this extraordinary work and what do they reveal about the perceptions and intentions of the ‘prophet Joseph Smith? . . . The pivotal document of the ‘Mormon church, “an extraordinary work of popular imagination,” still receives scant attention from cultural historians. (115-16) To pose the question more directly, if we start simply with the premise that the text exists, and if we try to see everything that is there and only what is there, what account can we give of the Book of Mormon? It is precisely this kind of close study which has been lacking. It is all the more pleasurable, then, to read and ponder the two papers we have heard that address themselves t0 this task, papers that make their points clearly, provoke comment, and raise further questions. If we temporarily bracket all questions about the ‘book's origins and authority, which ultimately have to be resolved by the reader's subjective assessment in any case, there are nonetheless certain aspects of the Book of Mormon which can be treated objectively, in particular its formal characteristics, which can be observed, analyzed, and described by anyone from whatever back- ground or disposition. Studious observation and conversation can clear up most, if not all, differ- ences of perception. It is this kind of objective description which is visible in both papers, Mark showing from the text the pattern of the “warning prophet” and Richard the demoristrable aspects of the text which are found in epic narratives. As T thought about the two papers, I felt impelled to add a third aspect of the book which appears too me likewise capable of objective description, and that is the voice of the Book of Mormon. ‘A starting point is a lecture by Matthew Arnold in 1861 on translating Homer. No one, he said, had produced a translation of Homer into English that combined all aspects of his style, which was eminently rapid, direct, plain, and noble (or clevat- ed) (211). The Book of Mormon is not Homer, or close to Homer, but the stylistic similarities are worth looking at. Is the narration rapid? Almost every critic would agree that it could do with a good editing job. The first of these critics was Joseph himself, ‘who revised the book for the 1837 edition, correct- 41 ———————————— a ing spelling, grammar, punctuation, and phrasing, ‘And yes, the allegory of the olive tree could be reduced by half or two-thirds. The whole work could be tightened up. Nonetheless, on examina- tion the book tums out to be very cohesively organized. Every part or episode tums somehow around the point that safety and salvation are to be found only in the gospel of Christ. Moreover, there is rarely if ever any element in the narrative which is trivial or wandering, Is the narration plain and direct? Yes, some would say to a fault. And the tone is without exception morally earnest and elevated. "To demonstrate these aspects of the style of the Book of Mormon, we could do no better than to contrast it with that of Solomon Spaulding’s ‘Manuscript Found, long thought by some to be the source of the Book of Mormon and subsequently retrieved from a trunk of papers in Hawaii in 1884. In this story, a group of Romans making a sea voyage to Britannia are blown off course and end up in America. Shipwrecked, they must face the task of living in a new world. The four ladies in the company choose companions, but six ‘mariners are left without the prospect of “the delights and gratifications which are attendant on the connubial state." ‘The Captain & myself, attended with our fair partners & two mariners, repaired to the new habitation, which consisted of two convenient apartments. After having partook of an clligant dinner & drank a bottle of Excellent wine our Spirits were exhilarated & the deep gloom which beclouded our minds evaporated, The Captain assuming his wonted cheerfulness, made the following address. “My sweet, good soul'd fellows, we have commenced a new voyage. Not such as bro’t us over mountain billows to this butt end of the world, No, ‘no, our voyage is on dry land, & now we must take cae that we have sufficient ballast for the riging, Every hand on board this ship clasp hands and condescend to each others humour, This will promote good cheer & smooth the raging billows of life. Surrounded by innumerable hordes of human beings who resemble in ‘manners the Ourang outang, let us keep aloof from them and not embark in the same matrimonial ship with them. At the same time we will teat them with good cheer & inlighten their dark souls with good instruction. By continuing a different people & preferring our customs, manners, religion & arts & sciences & otherthings, another Italy will grow up in this wilderness, & ‘we shall be celebrated ns the fathers of a great & happy nation.“ “May God bless your soul, says one of the mari ners, “what would you have us do who have had the ‘woeful luck not to get mates to cheer our poor souls & warm our bodies. Methinks I could pick out « healthy plum Lass from the copper colored tibe that by wash ing and scrubbing ber fore & aft & upon the labbord and stabbord sides she would become a wholesome bedfellow. I think, may it please your honour, that I could gradually pump my notions into her head & make her ‘a good shipmate for the cupboard & as good hearted a Christian as any of your white damsels.(20- 21) Here is a style that, instead of being plain, is florid; instead of swift, pedestrian and wandering in details; instead of lofty, commonplace and trivial, in short, everything that the style of the Book of Mormon is not. Again, the point is not that the Book of Momron is Homer but that it is itself, with a set of not inconsiderable qualities. And the voice of the narrator in the Book of Mormon contrasts striking- ly with the voice of Joseph himself being Joseph. A few months after the publication of the Book of Mormon, Joseph wrote a letter to the members of the Colesville branch. Here is a sample: But the time and the season, Brethren, ye have no ‘eed that I write you, for ye yourselves perfectly know thatthe day of the Lord cometh as a thie in the night, for when they shall say peace and safety, then sudden, destruction cometh upon them, as travail upon a wom aan, but they shall not escape. But ye, Brethren, are not in darkness, therefore let us not sleep as do others, but {et us watch and be sober, for they that sleep, sleep in the night, and they that be drunken are drunken in the night, but let us who be of the day, be sober, putting on the breastplate of faith and law, and for a helmet, the hope of salvation, for God bath not appointed us unto wrath, but to obtain salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ. (Qud. in Vogel, 20), The style here strikes me as entirely consistent with a young man of twenty-five whose head is full of scriptural phrases and who is trying to find his voice as the leader of a group. But it is very unlike the Book of Mormon, where the tone is sober and elevated and the narrator knows clearly 42 where he is going. Now if the formal characteristics of the Book of Mormon are susceptible of objective description as clarified and refined by serious discussion, what 4s the significance of any or all of this objective description? What is the Book of Mormon? That is the real question—interpretation without analy. sis is flabby, and analysis without interpretation turns trivial. In reading Richard Rust’s paper, I found myself agreeing at each point—yes, this characteristic of the epic is in fact in the Book of Mormon, yes, that one is, too. Yes, the Book of Mormon fits the epic pattern, And then at the end, I asked myself, “Does this make the Book of Mormon an epic?" For the Book of Mormon to be an epic in the manner of a work of literature, it has to fit all of, the pattern and only the pattern commonly agreed on for the epic. Yet the Book of Mormon fits other patterns as well, for example, the pattern of the Deuteronomistic author, or authors, of the books of 1 and 2 Kings. Looking backward from Post-Exilic times, the authors attribute the fall and all the calamities, defeats, and sufferings of the Israelites for the past five hundred years to idola- ‘try and failure to scrupulously keep the Law. Likewise, throughout the Book of Mormon, de- struction follows the hardness of heart that pre- vents people from heeding the warning prophets who announce the gospel of Christ as the only bulwark against destruction. Is the Book of Mor- mon 2 Deuteronomistic history? Or consider this little noticed fact: The Book of Mormon follows the same principle of organiza- tion as Thucydides’ Peloponnesian War. I am surprised that no one has written a doctoral disser- tation on the subject. Thucydides organizes his history of the greatest war fought up to that time (434-404 B.C) around twenty-seven sets of Speeches connected by sections of narrative. The actions and the incidents of the war are shaped and given direction by the response the actors give to them in their deliberations. The book builds to climax: the Athenians commit a fatal act of hubris when they proclaim that they can do any- thing they want because they are the stronger. Might is right. Justice is whatever the strong desire. After this point the fate of the Athenians issealed, and they decline swiftly into tragic defeat in the Sicilian invasion, where they lose all of their army and navy. ‘The Book of Mormon follows this same pattern. It is organized around twenty-three sets of teach- ings (visions, sermons, prophecies, and scriptural quotations) connected by sections of narrative which show the risings and fallings of the Nephite and Lamanite peoples as the actors (individuals or groups) follow or reject the gospel of Christ. ‘The ook builds to the climax of the visit of the resurrected Jesus and the golden age which fol- lowed, after which the Nephites, because of disobedience, descend swiftly to their extinction. ‘What is the significance of these parallels? Frankly, I don’t expect that anyone will prove that Joseph was a closet reader of Greek historians or that a copy of the Peloponnesian War was found among the papers of a traveling magician in western New York. The most I can see in these similarities is that it is not unusual for writers of similar purposes to employ similar means, Thu- cydides concludes that the cosmos tilts in favor of justice and wants to show the downfall of those ‘who are unjust. Moroni concludes that only adher- ence to the gospel of Christ will assure survival and therefore shows the downfall of nations who are unrighteous, But what these similarities do show is that, since the Book of Mormon fits several patterns, it is therefore not defined by any one of them. The book still awaits a study that will give a coherent account of all of its features in its own terms. In the meantime, we may begin by the very modest, ‘but solid conclusion that it is not a dumb book. It is an unusual book, a very unusual book. ‘Many years ago I was teaching in a year-long, humanities course at the University of Arizona. ‘After we had just finished the part on the Bible (reading the Book of Job and the Sermon on the Mount), a student asked me after class if I had heard of the Book of Mormon, I said I had and hhad even looked at it a little, He asked what I thought of it. I said I thought it was an interesting book, a very interesting book. He asked what the chances were of adding it to the course, I asked him what parts of it he would choose for a human- ities course. Although he never followed up on the 43 eee invitation, the question still remains. Can the Book of Mormon be read as literature? Is it more like the Qur'an which Muslims will read only as the word of God, or is it more like Paradise Lost, which, though didactic, can be read by believer and unbeliever alike for what it adds to our store of knowledge of the human condition? ‘And while thinking about the two papers pre- sented today, I looked at the question in a little different light. If the Book of Mormon is not added to the humanities course at the U of A, where should the book be read on the BYU campus? In the Religion Department? the Linguis- tics Department? the Philosophy Department? the English Department? I am not sanguine. Whoever gives the book the close textual reading needed to see all that is there and only what is there will collide with cherished preconceptions of all sorts and on all sides. In established academic and religious cultures, it is tough to be a countercultu- ral book, especially a very countercultural book. KARL SANDBERGis DeWitt Wallace ProfessorEmeritus, of French and Humanities at Macalester College, St. Paul, Minnesota. This paper was originally presented as a response to the papers by Richard D. Rust and Mark ‘Thomas (this volume) at the annual meeting of the ‘Association for Mormon Letters, 1 February 1997, West- ‘minster College, Salt Lake City. NOTE ‘This manuscript was first published by the RLDS ‘Church and has recently been reissued ina critical edition. WORKS CITED ‘Amol, Matthew. “On Translating Homer." (1861] The Portable Matthew Amold. Ed. Lionel Trilling. New York: Viking, 1949. Hatch, Nathan 0. The Democratization of American Christianity. New Haven, CT: Yale UP, 1989. Pratt, Parley P. Autobiography of Parley P. Prat, Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1968 printing Spaulding, Solomon. Manuscript Found: The Complete ‘Original "Spaulding Manuscript” by Solomon Spauld- ing. Vol. 11, Special Monograph Series. Provo, UT: Religious Studies Center, 1996. Vogel, Dan, ed. Early Mormon Documents, Vol I Salt Lake City: Signature Books, 1996. This letter of Joseph Smith to the Colesville Saints was written 2 December 1830.LDS SCIENCE FICTION A New Mormon Battalio The Rise of Speculative Fiction Among Mormon Writers Scott Parkin In a paper delivered to this group in 1995, Robert Bird said: Joseph Smith's revision of the Pauline closing, “World without end” to become “worlds without end,” is a significant, ontological move. Specifically, Smith's ‘losing provides an opening for contemporary Mormon fiterature to explore the possibility and implications of sultiple worlds and realities. Gideon Burton extended the same idea when he said, “One cannot be true to the Mormon mythos without venturing out, pioneer-like, to engage strange worlds and peoples.” While the Mormon community has seen a widely diverse literature in its relatively short history, the last twenty years have seen an explo- sion of interest in fantasty fiction among Mormon writers, There are now over thirty Mormon writers who have sold short fiction or novels im the national speculative fiction market, and the num- bers are growing every day. This new Mormon Battalion of speculative fiction writers very literal- ly explores the possibility and implications of multiple worlds and realities, engaging strange ‘worlds and peoples, and venturing out, pioneerlike, to extend a Mormon cultural and conceptual heritage into places where it has never gone before. Let me begin with a brief overview of the history of Mormon speculative fiction. By “spect- {ative fiction,” I mean stories that fit into the broad categories of science fiction, fantasy, and horror, Parley P. Prattis generally credited with the first work of Mormon fiction for writing a drama, “A Dialogue Between Joseph Smith and the Devi piece that arguably qualifies as fantasy for its speculation on fantastic events that never hap- 44 pened, ‘The next notable work of Mormon speot ative fiction was Nephi Anderson's Added Upos a clearly fanciful exploration of what might have been based on speculation of things that he coud not know. Both of these works were instructive in natue and used fantastic imagery to foous on moe important social and doctrinal issues. Even thee the power of speculative elements to engage te reader's interest while metaphorically teaching correct principles was recognized as tool. Tt wasn't until the 1950s that another Mormon author would produce significant works of spect Tative fiction. Zenna Henderson published over fifty short stories during the 1950s and 1960s ir the Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction ‘Though she was never a media star, her fiction ‘was read and loved by two generations—most of them non-Mormon, Her stories focused on, “The People,” 2 group of aliens with strange powers ‘who had been forced to land and live in Arizona land New Mexico. These aliens chose to isolate themselves, building closed communities and hiding their differences from the world, Interestingly, Zenna Henderson passed her entire career without ever making it known that she was LDS, making her perhaps the most striking mem- ber of the Mormon “Lost Generation.” She was removed not once but twice from the Mormon ‘Community—once for her focus on the national market, and again for writing stories that were not explicitly Mormon, Even now few Mormons know “of her heritage, but to read her fiction is to recog- nize it clearly. Tn the 1970s two authors came forward who would transform the Mormon writing community ‘and introduce the unheard-of idea that MormonsEES could successfully tell stories that appealed to a wide national audience. One was Tracy Hickman, ‘whose popular Dragonlance novels made him the best-selling Mormon author of his time. Hick- man's quietly moral fiction used the tropes of classic fantasy to create powerful stories. Though he never concealed his Mormon heritage, Hickman made little effort to develop his name within the Mormon writing community and has remained largely unknown to the general Mormon audience. His fiction contains nothing that is overtly Mor- mon. ‘The other author, of course, is Orson Scott Card, whose powerful voice and eloquent public persona have made him one of the best-known Mormon writers in the world. Card was the first speculative fiction writer to succeed both within the Mormon ‘community and in the national market. His novel Ender’s Game is considered by many to be the best science fiction novel ever written, ranked only behind Tolkien’s “Lord of the Rings” in interna- tional polls of speculative fiction. Though his early fiction represented a strong separation from his ‘Mormon community, he has always been a power- ful voice in the Mormon writing community and a strong advocate of Mormon aris and letters. Card and Hickman broke paths into speculative fiction markets that opened up possibilities for an entire generation of new writers who followed. In their different ways, each showed that it was possible for Mormons to write successful fiction— both inside and outside the Mormon community. ‘The year 1980 was critical in the development of the new Mormon Battalion. That year Card was listed in the BYU course catalog as the teacher for a class on writing science fiction. By the time classes started, Card was replaced by Marion K. ‘Smith, but the group of people who signed up became the founders of an important support network that served a new generation of Mormon speculative fiction writers. It was called “the class that wouldn't die,” and its members included M, Shayne Bell, Barbara Hume, and Dave Doering. This small group continued meeting after the class ended and eventually formed the Provo-based writing group ‘Xenobia. From this group sprang two of the most important support groups for speculative fiction in 45 Utah—The Leading Edge Magazine and “Life, the Universe, and Everything,” the annual symposium on science fiction and fantasy held at BYU. ‘Through The Leading Edge, this small group of writers found an outlet for their fiction, as well as a place where other interested SF writers and readers could meet to share ideas. Over the years it introduced some of the strongest new voices in ‘Mormon speculative fiction, including M. Shayne Bell, Dave Wolverton, Virginia Baker, Carolyn Nicita, Russell W. Asplund, and Lee Allred. In 1982 Bell and Doering chaired the first annual symposium on science fiction and fantasy ‘at BYU. The event focused on the serious study of speculative fiction, with an emphasis on the question, “Why would a Mormon want to write science fiction?” Orson Scott Card was invited as the first symposium guest, and the event has continued since then. It is now the largest and most respected serious symposium on speculative fiction in the world. Through the symposium, many other Mormon SF writers found a supportive community—writers like Scott Bronson, Diann ‘Thornley, and AML-Award nominee Pat Bezzant. Since 1980, when Card and Hickman provided impetus to that small group of writers, the BYU and Utah writing communities have grown and expanded to encompass a wide variety of writers, styles, and approaches. In 1986 fellow Xenobia members Dave Wolverton and M. Shayne Bell established themselves as the newest stars in an expanding universe of SF writers by winning the Writers of the Future contest, an international ‘writing contest designed to find the next genera- tion of successful professionals. Each used his contest wins as a springboard to national promi- nence. Bell is now recognized as one of the premier stylists in the industry, and his deeply spiritual fiction resonates with his Mormon heri- tage. Dave Wolverton has become the most popular Mormon writer since Orson Scott Card, with over a million copies of his books currently in print. His fiction has focused on the search for meaning ‘and purpose for his characters—powerful Mormon, themes, ‘At the same time, another group of Mormon writers was expanding the Mormon speculativefiction market. While other writers focused on ‘general stories for a national audience, writers like Glenn Anderson and Thom Duncan wrote explicit- ly Mormon stories specifically for the Mormon audience. They have met with varied success, but their efforts have helped create room for other explicitly Mormon SF writers like Chris Heimer- dinger. ‘Together, this new Mormon Battalion represents over thirty authors who have sold fiction into the national market, with more breaking in every year. ‘This new generation of Mormon writers is making a significant splash in the national market and has gained both popular and critical notice. Kristine Kathrya Rusch, former editor of the Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction has commented on the “Utah Phenomenon” and says she looks for- ward to reading stories from Mormon writers. She predicts that the powerful morality of those stories will have an important impact on the national market. ‘So why has this new generation of Mormons tumed to speculative fiction? Part of itis the age we live in, SF is a relatively new genre, and we are now seeing the first generation of writers who grew up with SF readily available in bookstores ‘and libraries. One naturally writes what one reads, ‘and more Mormons ate reading fantasty fiction than ever before. A loosening of the cultural bias against “silly sci-fi” has given this generation increasing access to a wider variety of literary forms than ever before. ‘Another reason is the freedoms inherent in the genre, They make it possible to raise certain speculations in a SF context without being instant- ly turned off. SF readers expect to find strange, new ideas, and are willing to go quite a way with ‘an author. That willingness to “suspend disbelief” ‘and concede a fantastic element to see what new ‘world the author will create gives the Mormon ‘author a tremendous amount of freedom that is not so readily available in other gentes. SF celebrates the power of the individual as the only one capable of causing change in the uni- verse, Nothing happens--no plan is created, no potion carried out~except by individuals with their own goals and prejudices. Where the individual fails to act, there is no creation, no effect, no 46 development, Mormonism not only celebrates this power, but expands it, giving every person a context for his or her choices and actions. We not only choose and cause change now in this life, but ‘we have made choices and caused change before this life, and will continue to do so after this life is over. Likewise, SF puts ultimate responsibility for action on the individual. While organizations may plot, while individuals may compete, while nature or random chance may interfere, itis eventually up to the individual to determine his or her ultimate happiness. Though events may rage beyond con- trol, it is each person's individual response to events that determines his or her fate. Individuals ‘may not be able to control the world, but they can ‘choose how to interact within it, choosing their goals and whether to build or destroy. Mormon SP celebrates the triumph of individual will against faceless opposition (or evil). Mormonism also puts, ‘ultimate responsibility on the individual. We are to ‘work out our own salvation, using the gifts and tools given us by a loving God. The responsibility for our action—or inaction—lies with each of us individually, not with society, nature, or the ‘redetermination of a faceless god. If we act well, ‘we gain eternal life and eternal progression. If we ‘act poorly or not at all, we gain nothing—dam- nation in itself. SF argues against the incomprehensible god of popular Christianity in favor of super-evolved beings who are nothing more than advanced people. Mormonism argues against that same god in favor of God as a man who has advanced through a clear process of growth and develop- ‘ment to become God—a process accessible to all people, though attained by only a few. Perhaps so many new writers are turning to speculative fiction because of specific aspects of ‘Mormon culture and doctrine. Mormons have long, understood what it is to be an alien in society, included yet always apart. Speculative fiction has ong studied the alien and how we react to it; Mormons have long been aliens, reacted to by their societies. Perhaps it’s the Mormon belief that all things have rational answers, origins, and explanations if only we understand the bases for them. This is thecore assumption for scientists, agnostics, and ‘Mormons, and lends itself to exploration in fiction. We need fear nothing from the truth; there is nothing that “we aren’t meant to know.” ‘Whatever the reasons, Mormons are writing speculative fiction in ever-increasing numbers. ‘Zenna Henderson first introduced Mormon thought and culture to the world through her alien “Peo- ple.” Orson Scott Card and Tracy Hickman be- came best sellers and opened up avenues that had been previously closed. Dave Wolverton, M. Shayne Bell, and Virginia Baker have brought strong literary values and explicit Mormon thought to a changing readership while helping to develop the larger writing community. ‘And on the horizon there is a veritable army of Mormon speculative fiction writers now able to tell the stories that come from their very Mormon hearts and minds. Russell W. Asplund, Pat Bez- zant, and Susan Kroupa, have made sales in the national market and are positioned to continue a proud heritage of Mormon writers. Lee Allred, Scott Bronson, and literally dozens of others have made solid inroads into the national market and ee promise to become the next generation of suocess- ful professionals. There is life after Orson Soott Card, and the next generation is just now making itself known—in quantity. ‘Many Mormon writers have found a way to tell their important stories through speculative fiction, and more are discovering it as a genre where they can, indeed, create worlds without number that are full of truth and beauty and aspects of the Mor- ‘mon culture and gospel that they hold dear. A powerful Mormon Battalion, indeed. SCOTT PARKIN writes science fiction in Pleasant Grove, Utah, and is a regular contributor to AML-List. WORKS CITED Bird, Robert. “Mormon Postmoderism: Worlds Without End in Young’s Salvador and Card's Last Boys.” AML ‘Annual (Salt Lake City: Association for Mormon Letters), 1996. 41-45. Burton, Gideon, “Keeping Company with Wayne Booth: Bthical Responsibility and the Conduct of Mormon Criticism.” AML Annual (Salt Lake City: Association for Mormon Letters), 1996. 27-35. The Individual vs. the Zion Community: An Empirical Look at the Dichotomy in Mormon SF Lee Allred In many respects, science fiction is and has been ‘an analog of the American West, substituting planets for prairies, aliens for Indians, SF abounds with frontier images, from Kennedy's “New Fron- tier” to Roddenbery’s “Final Frontier.” The two- fisted Old West pioneer has served as model for science fiction’s rugged individualistic characters. ‘Writers and filmmakers have drawn on the pioneer mythos until at times it seems that the conquest of space will merely be a reenactment of the con- quest of the West. We here in this room, however, know of another approach to pioneering, Other areas of the ‘West—Texas, Oregon, etc.—were “settled” by rugged individualists who struck out on their own to tame the land. Deseret, on the other hand, was 41 “colonized.” Brigham Young sent out whole ‘communities to work together to make the desert blossom. These colonies were composed of pio- neers as ruggedly independent as any Oregonian, yet bound tightly together into what Wallace Stegner would later call a “more cohesive society even yet than most Americans know” (qtd. in Cracroft, “Realizing,” 1:129). Future space colonization will most likely prove to follow the planned-in-advance Deseret model. M. Shayne Bell, in his introduction to Washed by a Wave of Wind, writes: “What they (the pioneers of the Mormon Corridor] accomplished . . . paral- Iels what women and men will do as we move off Earth into space” (vii). ‘This Deseret model of a society united in mind,heart, and purpose—not only spiritually but secu- larly_—is one of the two characteristics of LDS orthodoxy Richard Cracroft identified in his 1992 "AML presidential address: “The Latter-day Saint sees as his or her mission the preparation of a Zion people.” (The other is that “they expect the presence of the Godhead in their lives” (“Attun- ing,” 36, 6). Ttis this slightly Asiatic concept of group effort, this Zion community, that has, in large measure, been responsible for the LDS SF phenomenon that Scott Parkin spoke of earlier this morning. Other ‘reas of the country speak of a local organization of SF writers as a writing workshop. Here in Utah ‘we refer to it as a writing group. In fact, in the writing group Pilgrimage that the three of us (Goott Parkin, Scott Bronson, and myself) belong to, our motto is unabashedly “All for One and One for All.” According to the group's written bylaws, our “unofficial name and defining characteristic is the Zion Writing Group, providiing) an atmo- sphere free of negative ego and competitiveness where every person is actively promoting everyone else's success” (Pilgrimage bylaws). If such a sense of community is possessed by Mormon SF authors towards their approach to writing, then surely it must be reflected in the writing itself. "Yet as those who followed last spring's discus- sion on AML-List know, one of science fiction’s hallmarks is the triumph of the individual. As ‘AML-List columnist Scott Parkin put it, “SF puts ‘timate responsibility for action on the individu- ai.” Parkin argues that because Mormonism puts ‘iyltimate responsibility” for salvation on the individual, this has allowed Mormon authors to succeed in this genre." ‘Now, my remarks may seem to contradict Parkin’s thesis, but that is not so. He is right, as ‘am 1. We are both right because this dichotomy of the individual versus the group is the very one Bugene England termed the “paradox of selfhood”: ‘The most agonizing problem in Mormon experi- ence. . . {is} the struggle to maintain individual integrity, o be true to self in the face of pressures to obey, to conform” (1). ‘While not new to other fiction? this paradoxical tension, England says, is a “centrality” of Mor- 48 monism and thus of Mormon literature. Further more, “if we thus suppose there are easy solutions to the dilemma of personal integrity and social responsibility, we diminish drastically the potenti- ality of Mormon literature.” Therefore, this tension “should not be resolved in favor of one or the ‘other of those conflicting values” (12, 13). If Mormon SF is indeed Mormon literature, and if this tension is indeed central to that literature, not only should we be able to see it, but others should be able to see it as well. Do they? ‘The Hugo Award-winning Encyclopedia of ‘Science Fiction was compiled just as the Mormon Battalion phenomenon was starting. It lists only four LDS authors as entries. Of those four, only ‘Orson Scott Card was known or identified (the former being more likely) by the editors as being LDS. Card, of course, has his success credited to the “tight knit community” of his Mormonism, but it is the entry for Dave Wolverton that is especial- ly telling. Editor Nicholls describes Wolverton’s writing thus: Although being “Heinlein-esque . . . fit is not altogether accepting of the libertarian ideas ‘which in part it dramatizes” (Cute and Nicholls, 194, 1, 342). Nicholls recognizes Angelo Osic, the ‘main character of On My Way to Paradise, for the self-competent Libertarian hero he is but seems clearly puzzled as Wolverton posits a happy tending for Angelo when Angelo subsumes his individualism for the new communal society on the planet Baker. ‘Tn Wolverton’s second novel, Serpent Catch (and in its sequel, Path of the Hero), Wolverion hones this approach further. This time the main character is Tull, a Tcho-Pwi—half-human, half Neanderthal. Neanderthals possessed a hypothala- mus three times larger than that of humans. Wol- ‘erton postulates then that a Neanderthal would be very emotionally complex, and ereate a society to natch, Wolverton’s Pwi, or Neanderthal people, tive in a tightly knit communal society. Indeed, at one point in the story Tull is told by the Pwi: “You must put loneliness aside. ‘There is no sin greater than loneliness” (Serpent, 39). 'As suggested by England, Wolverton balancesthis tension equally between the individualism of humans and the group consciousness of the Pwi. ‘Tull is continually torn by his mixed heritage, Tull muses at one point that “humans always seem {0 tell stories of conquest . . . but the Pwi always seemed to tell stories of reconciliation” (48). It is the reconciliation between his two halves that provides the inner tension throughout the two books, Wolverton masterfully plays off Tull’s attempts at reconciliation by contrasting Tull with those for whom there is no reconciliation: with Phylomon, last of the Earthborn Starfarers, and with the degenerate Slave Lords. Phylomon repre~ sents the last remnant of true civilization, but he is, alone, the last of his kind. The bestial Slave Lords, on the other hand, have willingly descended into the abyss. In delicious irony, solitary Phylomon champions society; the hordes champion individu- alism at its worst. In addition to all of this, in the character of Scandal, Wolverton introduces yet another factor into the equation and, in the process, if not creates, at least refines, what may be viewed as a unique LDS character archetype. This archetype I have tentatively named the Faithful Rascal, or—in keeping with our Old West metaphor—the Porter Rockwell figure.” Lee Nelson has noted that it is odd Rockwell ‘has gone largely unnoticed outside Mormondom, even though as a gunfighter Rockwell “dispatched more men than Jesse James, Billy the Kid, Doc Holliday, Wyatt Earp, Bat Masterson, and John Wesley Hardin combined” (front dust jacket flap). Hollywood simply cannot understand how a man of God could be a man of action. LDS authors, however, find it natural to use Rockwell as grist for their fictional mill. He is the paradoxical tension personified. The Porter Rockwell figure’s solitary nature is diametrically opposed to the societal group he‘ so faithfully defends; his unsa- ory character and habits, 100, are often in direct, opposition to the mores of that society. Unlike the anti-hero of recent American literature and cinema, however, this anti-anti-hero willing puts his indi- vidualism at the service of the larger community of which he may be only marginally a part. But are LDS Porter Rockwells really any differ- ent from the John Waynes or the Gary Coopers of 49 a our larger culture? Does the LDS dichotomy extend to non-LDS SF as well? If literature were a science, we could set up experiments with controls and double-blinds and so forth. Literature, however, is am art. In the limited confines of this paper, the best I can offer is an empirical example: a comparison of LDS and non-LDS stories created for an anthology with the same shared premise. Kevin J. Anderson's 1996 anthology War of the Worlds: Global Dispatches is a centenary celebra- tion of H. G. Wells's Martian novel. The premise of the anthology, composed of stories by some of today’s leading SF authors, is to “imagine what a host of Wells’ contemporaries [like Joseph Conrad or Mark Twain] . . . might have had to say about the invasion of Earth” (Levinson, Global). ‘Two top Mormon SF authors, 1997 Nebula nominee Dave Wolverton and 1996 Hugo nominee M. Shayne Bell, appear in the anthology. Both of these authors are Westerners—originally from Oregon and Idaho respectively. I propose to compare their stories with that of Texas author ‘Howard Waldrop. Unique in this anthology for not featuring a famous personality, Waldrop’s “Night of the Cooters” is instead the story of a Sheriff Lindley of Pachuco County, Texas. Straightforward and told in an almost painfully authentic Texan voice, “Cooters” “is frank in its sociology. . . . It gives us a convincingly dusty, sod-kicking ambiance” (Levinson, Global). Lindley, modeled after actor Slim Pickens, gets a bit riled when the Martian ‘capsules start landing in his jurisdiction. When the Martians attack, the sheriff simply puts on his ‘cowboy hat and buckles up his gun belt. There is ‘no moralizing other than: “This won't do. These things done attacked citizens in my jurisdiction, and they killed my horse” (106). This quotation pretty much sums up Lindley’s attitude. ‘There is little evidence that Lindley feels much connection or attachment at all to the community he serves. Lindley is the alpha male, the rest of the inhabitants of Pachuco mere spear carriers. Repeated references might be made by Lindley of the town being “his” (106, 114), but he seems Tackluster in claiming possession of either the town (111-12) or his job as sheriff (101), Clearly,there is no dichotomy here. Dave Wolverton’s story “After a Lean Winter” is a much more ambitious tale. Wolverton takes this idea of the rugged pioneer and pushes it to its extreme and beyond. If loneliness is the greatest Wolvertonian sin of all, the characters in this tale of gold rush Alaska are all sinners of the blackest stripe: “ , miners . . .crackpots who'd fled from the world” (247), they now fled from the Martians, Only the doctor and the narrator, Jack London, have any sense of group belonging, In fact, London counts himself as one of the mis- fits_—“"we were an unsavory lot” (247)—and has sought out company this nlght only to bring the doctor back to tend his wife, Bessie (249). Wolverton’s story is deceptively simple. Fur trapper Pierre Jelenc has somehow captured @ Martian, Pierre proposes some sport: a fight to the death between eight sled dogs against the Mar- tian’s sixteen tentacles. “Your dogs will fait mah east tonait!” (250). Of course, neither Pierre nor the others have any intention of letting the Martian survive the fight. Their rifles will see to that, ‘On one level it is an action adventure yam straight from the pages of Jack London himself. On another it is a hard SF story based around a “pice piece of scientific conjecture” (Levinson, Global). On yet another it could be seen as a retelling of the white man's conquest of native Tands. But deeper still is the level that addresses this Mormon dichotomy of self versus group. Of all the stories in the anthology, only Wolverton’s suggests “some sort of human/Martian concor- Gance,” for which the SF review magazine Tan- sent recognizes itas being “especially noteworthy’ (Levinson, “Magazine”). Pierre and others see in the Martian’s eyes “a sense of malevolence . . . pure evil” (253-54), but London is able to summon up some empathy for the creature's plight (256, 259). When the Martian ‘wins the bloody contest, London pleads, “Let it vel It won the right!” (259). At this, the creature gazes up at London. “For once there was ou hunger in that gaze, no disconcerting look of malevolence” (259). Suddenly, London can “see” the Martin's tnoughis or perhaps his memories. “One. We are vome a voice seemed to whisper in my head, and T 50 knew that the Martian, with its superior intellect, had deigned to speak to me. You understand me. We are one” (259-60). London feels the oneness, not only with the Martian, but with the great domed city and the whole of Martian society, but ‘London is ripped apart from that oneness when the ‘Martian is slain in a hail of rifle fre, Still haunted by the vision of the Martian Zion, London returns to his cabin only to find his wife, his one Link to humanity, dead, London is let a solitary, purpose- less, empty husk of a man. had no food, no warmth, remainder of the winter. Sometimes Martians would take me. “And slowly, like the march of an enfeebled man, after the Jean winter, came a chill spring. (262) no comfort during the I wished the Wolverton is in fact showing the hollowness of rugged individualism” without a comesponding Zion community, for we Mormon readers realize ‘with a shock that Wolverton's Martians are 1s Mormons. The mistaken malevolence—the alien- rness seen in the Martians is the same alien-ness many non-Mormons sce in us. Wolverton’s story of mirrors and mirror-images, discounting its Titeral otherworldliness (and a slight case of telepathy), is an eloquent near-mantic defense of Bruce W. Jorgensen’s plea to “let the stranger stay,” for to deny the stranger is to deny ourselves, for we are the stranger at the world’s door, Canry- ing a story that must be fold and must be heard 'M. Shayne Bell's “To See the World End” is as brightly lit as Wolverton’s story is dark. T can weil picture the day when Bell’s story is held yp ® Bniversity classes as the ideal model of a “Mis- Sionary Schoo!” Mormon SF story. Bell's story fesonates with Mormon readers, but his LDS motifs—visions, prophecies, millennial peace, healing, eternal family lines stretching forwards and backwards, predestination, missionary prosely- tizing, waitten testimony—are told in analogs that resonate just as strongly with non-Mormon read ers. ‘bell tells of a young Joseph Conrad who lies eathly ill in the Belgian Congo. He is not only Sick physically but sick at heart as well at the Gruelty he has seen towards the natives at thehands of the Belgians. As he Lies in his hut deliri- ous, dreaming fever dreams of his dead mother, an old African woman comes unbidden to his aid. “Your mother seat me,” she said. 1 did not understand, “Mother died in exile in Russia when I was six years old,” I said... “Your mother sent me,” she repeated more firmly. (230) “The old woman's name is Sililo, a name Conrad recognizes as meaning “born during a relative's funeral.” “Who died when you were born?” I asked...» “No one died.” she said. "A wise woman of my people held me first when I was bom, before even my mother. She told Mother I would see the world die, 80 Mother named me Silile.” (231-32) Conrad takes this to mean, if it means anything at all, that the coming of the Europeans during Sililo’s lifetime was the end of the world the wise ‘woman spoke of, but it is not. “What world will end for you, if it has not already?” I asked. “This world where people do not live as they believe. A judgment is coming. . . . They talk of Deing kind to others ... [but] the Belgians have not done that here. Your mother told me how the people ‘with power did not do that in your land, either. . . .” “Why do you talk of my mother? She has never ‘been here to speak with you.” “We talk in dreams. Your mother knows what is coming.” (233) Conrad later dreams of his mother and Sililo together, telling him he will do “great things” 234) and trying to warn him of an impending event. Through Sililo’s ministrations, physical and mystical, and through sheer will, Conrad recovers. Rather than stay in the employ of the corrupt Belgians, he takes a canoe and begins an impossi- bly dangerous journey through the rapids to the coast and passage to England (235). ‘Up until now, the story's dichotomy is typical for SF. Conrad is the rugged individual; his rejec- tion of the Belgians and trip down the rapids prove him an SF man of action. The evil Belgians, st a almost cardboard in their menacing oppression, are not only the forces of evil but those of the stifling conformity all true SF heroes must break free of. ‘And yet Bell has foreshadowed much the same dichotomy as Wolverton’s Tull novels: The soli- tary Conrad is really the representative of true civilization, a predestined agent of some higher power. The Belgian's Great Civilizing Company (the name an irony of history, not of Bell's) represents mass despotism. Tt is at this break in the story that Bell turns otherwise standard fare into an almost archetypal LDS allegory. Ten years later, the Martians attack. Conrad realizes that this is the end of the world Sililo had prepared him for and that safety lies in ‘Aftica with her: “When it came time to flee, I found . . .a ship in Dover and brought my Jessie, litle Borys—then only two years old—and all these others from dying England to [Africa] and ‘one woman who had maybe seen what was com- ing and thought her great forest would protect (237), What Mormon reader could fail to recog- nize: “and after having been wamed in a dream, they journeyed over the many waters to a land prepared for them"? Conrad's party reaches the city of Kinchassa where the story opened. There the Belgians all are gathered, huddling against the menace of not only the Martians, but of the Congo natives as well. “You have been like Martians to us,” Sililo told them... ‘When she said that, I began to understand bow the world would end... . I told anyone who would listen the stories of what the Russians had done to my family and to Poland. Others told similar stories. ‘We knew the Martians, after all. We knew them well. They did no new thing among us, and to them all the great nations meant nothing more than Poles, Jew, Moors, or Afticans bad meant... . If we somehow survived, we could no longer treat each other that way. The world would truly have ended. then, for the Earth would be a new place. (239) ‘After the Belgians are converted, they set about to “strengthen” their brethren. Sililo tells Conrad: “The Belgians are the first to change, Your En- gland will follow, then all others” (240).‘And follow they do, leading Earth into the Great Change. Bell's new world, as befits a Mormon millennium, “is not perfect yet—there are still many wrongs to right” (240). Still, such peace does not come without price. Conrad, instead of becoming a great novelist, becomes only a minor cog in the Council of Earth. “My stories played a part.” he says offhandedly (240). Like Wolverton’s ‘Angelo, Bell's Conrad has given his individualism to the founding of a Zion society. In this, do they violate England's dictum against resolving the dichotomy? No, for a closer reading shows that England sees the conflict “continufing), successfully transcended” (1, emphasis mine), as each of us works out our own salvation. No, if Gideon Burton's assessment is correct, both Bell's and Wolverton’s endings of this dichotomy are as they should be: “The role of Mormon literature and criticism will not be to establish what our culture currently conceives of as Zion. . . + rather, Mormon criticism and literature will help to discover and define Zion—to achieve this aspira- tion, not just reflect it” (231). In helping their characters achieve Zion, Wol- verton and Bell help us, the readers, along our own path. Listen to the Zion that Bell “discovers and defines” as he shows us Conrad's reward for his sacrifice of self, In the short space of four paragraphs, Bell pierces to the heart of Mormon- ism, resolving the dichotomy of self versus group and defining what being an individual in a Zion society means: ‘The first night in that house, I dreamt of Mother. ‘She held Borys and walked with me along « quiet road shaded by tall trees, and I remembered in that dream that when T was a baby she walked with me there often. Now I was a man taller than she. She ‘smiled and took my hand, and we came to a place in the road that led down to a beautiful valley and the ‘white houses there. Not far down the road, Sililo stood with Father, Grandmother, Uncle Thaddeus, fand so many others I had loved and lost to death. “HT want to go with you,” I told Mother. ‘She kissed Borys and handed him to me. “Take your son back to the new world,” she said. I watched her walk to Father and Sililo and all the others, and they Went on into their beautiful valley. I tumed with Borys to go back and saw that the valley bebind us had become just as beautiful. (241) 52 LEB ALLRED, www lecallred.com, writes a speculative fiction column for AML-List and has twice chaired “Life, the Universe, & Everything” (BYU's annual SF sympo- sium). Lee’s story “Por the Strength of the Hills” won first place in the international 1996 Writers of the Funre contest. Lee lives in Orem, Utab. NOTES 1 An active discussion on this issue ran at length Aprl- June, 1996 on AML-List Bngland insists that “much of the greatest literature in our Wester tradition has derived its power from retaining the tension in this tragic paradox of individual and group values” (12). Wolverton seems particularly taken with this archetype. From the proto-Rockwell character Flaco in Paradise to Boresonin the yet unpublished Runelord series, Wolverton returns again and again to this dichotomous archetype. In fact, Wolverton’s story “Wheatfields Beyond” in Washed by a Wave of Wind almost exists solely as a vehicle 10 cexplore the rationale behind such characters and other Society misfits. Wolverton’s thesis seems to be that the Toners, the homeless, and others misfits do serve a purpose in society. They exist as Nature's evolutionary backup plan to Keep society alive in ease of a universal disaster. Inthe story, a natural disaster has wiped out civilization, and triminal psychologist Tana Rosen realizes that Willy, & former patient and prisoner, now tribal warlord, is one of those holding things together now, one of those “pho slept under stars because something in their ones whispered it was right. People who would ‘never suffer shock from losing homes and loved ones ‘pecause something in their genetic makeup kept them from forming such bonds. For a time they would be the Lords of Earth, the keeper of civilization.” (27) 41 intentionally use the masculine pronoun here; & trenchant Porter Rockwell figure would have no truck with ‘mollycoddling linguistic gymnastics. in comparing Bell and Wolverton to Waldrop, T am comparing them against what was frequently touted at Varieus 1996 SE conventions and online discussion groups ts the strongest piece in the anthology—Waldrop’s. Even so. these two LDS stories are certainly strong, pieces themselves. Wolverton's story in this anthology, “After @ Lean Winter,” is on the 1997 preliminary Nebula ballot Balls story in this anthology, “To See the World End,” is ‘on the 1997 Sidewise Award for Altemate History final ballotne WORKS CITED Bell, M. Shayne. “To See the World End.” War of the World: Global Dispatches. BA. Kevin J. Anderson. New ‘York: Bantam, 1996. 228-41. Bell, M. Shayne (Ed). Washed by a Wave of Wind. Salt Lake City: Signature Books, 1993. Burton, Gideon O. “Towards a Mormon Criticism: Should We Ask ‘Is This Mormon Literature?’.” AML Annual, 1994. 2 vols. Ed. Lavina Fielding Anderson. 2:227-38. Clute, John, and Peter Nicholls, eds. The Encyclopedia of Science Fiction. New York: St. Martin's Griffin, 1995 (updated). Cracroft, Richard H. “Attuning the Authentic Mormon ‘Voice: Stemming the Sophic Tide in LDS Literature. AML Annual, 1994. 2 vols. Ed, Lavina Fielding Ander- son. 1:34.43. _—. “Realizing ‘A Personal and Possessed Past’: Mormon ‘Community and Values in Wallace Stegner’s Recapit- lation.” AML Annual, 1994. 2 vols. Bd. Lavina Field- ing Anderson. 1:124-31. England, Eugene. “Obedience, Integrity, andthe Paradox of ‘Selthood.” Proceedings ofthe Symposia ofthe Associa tion for Mormon Letiers 1979-82. Salt Lake City: ‘Association for Mormon Letters, 1983. Jorgensen, Bruce W. ‘To Hear and Tell Stories: Let the Stranger Say.” AML Annual, 1994. 2 vols. Bd. Lavina Fielding Anderson. 1:19-33. Levinson, Paul. Review of Global Dispatches. Tangent, Fall 1996. ——. “Review of the Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. Tangent, March 1996. Nelson, Lee. Siorm Testament VI: Rockwell. Mapleton, UT: Council Press, 1988. Parkin, Sott. “Worlds Without Number; Mormonism as an ‘SF Religion.” AML-List column, Thursday, 30 May 1996. Waldrop, Harold. “Night of the Cooters.” War of the World: Global Dispatches. Ed. Kevin J. Anderson. New ‘York: Bantam, 1996. 97-114. Wolverton, Dave. “After a Lean Winter” War of the World: Global Dispatches. Fa. Kevin J Anderson. New ‘York: Bantam, 1996, 247-62. 53MORMON FOLKLORE Mormon Folklore: Grammar for a Discourse Community William A. We appreciate the opportunity the Association for Mormon Letters program committee has given us to devote a session of this meeting to Mormon folklore.’ Before moving to the papers, I would like to make a few introductory comments. In 1892 the Reverend David Utter of Salt Lake City sent to the Chicago Folk-Lore Society a piece entitled “Mormon Superstitions.” He recounted Mormon beliefs about Indians, summarized briefly the contents of the Book of Mormon, and then told how, according to this book, three of Christ's New World disciples called Nephites had been allowed to remain on earth until the Savior re- turned again. “Many of the saints now living,” wrote Reverend Utter, tell that they have, at different times, seen one or more of these three immortal “Nephites.” A daughter of Brigham Young, now a good Unitarian, has told me that her father told, with great and solemn pleasure, of an interview that he bad with one of these remaining apostles in Liverpool, when he was there on a mission. ‘The apostle met bim at the chapel door, an old man with a long gray beard, made himself known, and spoke ‘many encouraging and helpful words. (76) ‘The society published the piece in the first ‘volume of its new journal, The Folk-Lorist. So far as I know, this was the first reference in a scholar- ly publication to the folklore of the Mormons. ‘And for decades to come it was to remain the omly reference. Not until 1938, when Wayland D. Hand published an article in Southern Folklore Quarterly, once more about the Three Nephites, was Mormon lore again brought to the attention of folklorists. Nearly a decade later, in 1947, Hector Lee completed a doctoral dissertation at the Uni- versity of New Mexico on the Nephites; he pub- lished the work in 1949 as The Three Nephites: The Substance and Significance of the Legend in (Bert) Wilson Folklore. Then in 1956, moving beyond stories of the Three Nephites to the entire field of Mormon folklore, Austin and Alta Fife published their groundbreaking Saints of Sage and Saddle: Folk- lore among the Mormons. From that time to the present, a vigorous scholarly literature has devel- oped dealing with and interpreting Mormon folk- lore. (For surveys of this scholarship, see Wilson 1976, 1993; Terry 1989). ‘Among Mormons in general, no_ scholarly discussion is necessary to assure that folklore will continue to circulate among us. As soon as Mor- ‘mons became a cohesive group—a discourse community, if you will—they began to generate folklore in the process of living with each other and responding to the circumstances of their lives. ‘And they continue to do so today. This folklore falls into three broad areas—things we make with our words such as stories, songs, rhymes, prov- erbs, and riddles; things we make with our hands, such 2s food, quilts, sacrament meeting quiet books, and Relief Society grapes; and things we make with our actions, such as the way we hold family prayer, make baptism a special occasion, and celebrate family, home, church, and state holidays. Scholars with literary interests have intended to focus more on verbal expressions— things we make with words—but an understanding of all expressive forms is necessary fully to under- stand the importance of folklore in our everyday lives. "And the forms overlap. For example, in her paper today, Kristi Bell will discuss creative dating customs—things we make with our actions. But people who participate in these practices learn them not just from watching what others do (one of the principal ways of transmitting folk knowl- edge), but also from listening to stories about what others have done (the other main way of passing 54on patterned behavior). Similarly, senior Mormon missionaries leam how to initiate their greenie companions not just by repeating the pranks once played on them but also by listening to spirited stories of pranks played by other missionaries on their greenies. The more engaging—that is, the more artful—the story, the greater the likelihood an unsuspecting greenie will eventually enact its drama. Thave on a number of occasions talked to some members of AML about the characteristics of folklore. But because I have done so with varying degrees of failure, I will repeat a few of them here. First, folklore is not something that belongs to someone else. It belongs to all of us. If you want to know who the folk are (the people who transmit the lore), go home and look in the mirror. We are all inveterate storytellers. We talk about our jobs, our hobbies, our successes and failures, our court- ships and marriages, our children, and our reli- gious beliefs and experiences. We do so because in order to communicate effectively to others what is in our hearts and minds we must make the abstract concrete—we must transform experience ‘and belief into narrative. In a similar fashion, we all participate in customary practices and create material objects. ‘Second, folklore is not diminishing, There is as much of it around as there ever was. Some time ago, in a discussion on AML-List about scary stories, someone posted a statement arguing that such stories can seldom be found in contemporary society. Such a statement is sheer nonsense. If you don’t believe me, listen to the stories the girls are telling late at night when your adolescent daughter is hosting a slumber party. Or listen to the stories with which the Boy Scouts are regaling each other on 2 camp-out. After listening to an evening of such stories, one poor Scout was $0 frightened that he wet his bed rather than get up and visit the latrine, Or, better still, come into the folklore archive and read through the volumes of stories collected recently that give ample evidence that young people enjoy terrifying each other with Stories of the ghost of St. Anne's Retreat or of the Hookman in Rock Canyon as much as they ever did, More to our purposes, Mormon folklore is not diminishing. So long as we continue to believe that God is a personal God who takes a personal interest in us and intervenes in our personal affairs, we will continue telling stories that testify to the validity of that belief. Hector Lee's 1949 book on the Three Nephites was based on 150 narratives, Lee himself believed that, in a more sophisticated world, the narratives would not survive. Someone failed to get Lee's message to the people. My wife, Hannele Blomqvist Wilson, and I are currently working on an annotated edition of Nephite stories. So far, we have brought together 1500 narratives, ‘Third, folklore is not primarily a key to the past, but to the present. Again on AML-List, someone interested in producing a fictional piece on the pioneer era, considered looking at folk narratives about the pioneers for inspiration. Such a look would not be very productive, unless one could get back to the stories the actual pioneers told about their own experiences. ‘The reason for this is simple: though folklore may be born in the past, it lives in the present. Every time we retell a tradi- tional story, or repeat a customary practice, or ‘make a familiar object, we re-create it, adding something of ourselves and our times to the story, practice, or object. ‘Addressing this process of re-creation of folk- lore, folklorist Elliott Oring discusses folksong transformation in words that could apply equally well to our traditionally transmitted Mormon materials: If a song is to continue, a generation must find something in it worth continuing while altering aspects ‘which are no longer consonant with its own values and beliefs... A song cannot be adequately conceptualized as the reflection of some ancient past. At any point in its history, the song isthe distillation of generations of cumulative modification. If it can be suid to reflect any group at al, perhaps it can only reflect the group in ‘which itis curently sung—that group which bas (for conscious or unconscious reasons) mintained and transformed elements from the past in the creation of a ‘meaningful, contemporary expression, (10) Applying Oring’s dictum to narratives contempo- 55rary Mormons tell about polygamy, for example, we would have to conclude, as I have done in a recent article (Wilson 1996), that the narratives tell ‘us more about the narrators than they do about the practice described. But folklore comes to us not just from the past but also from the present. We generate stories “in” our own time “about” our own time. The Church is awash with stories, We talk constantly of pre- sent-day persecutions, of missions, of conversions, of God’s interventions in individual lives, of admiration for and sometimes frustrations with Church authorities, of acts of sacrifice and kind- ness performed by charitable Church members, and of the day-to-day delights and sorrows of Church membership. As soon as these stories become patterned and begin functioning in signifi- cant ways in our lives, they become folklore. As circumstances in our culture change, narratives ‘come into being that reflect these changes. For example, when sister missionaries were few in number, most stories of missionaries being saved from physical harm concerned mostly the elders. Now, with the sister missionary force having grown significantly, new stories tell of the Lord coming to the aid of the sisters. Indeed, one of the best-known contemporary missionary accounts tells of sister missionaries being saved by the ‘Three Nephites from a rapist they encounter while tracting (Wilson 1993, 532-35). Fourth, what all this means is that the study of folklore is not just a pleasant means of whiling away idle hours but is rather a crucially important pursuit leading to a better understanding of what is going on in our culture at any given time and of forces within the culture that move us to action. Folklorists are sometimes taken to task for not being overly concerned with what “really” hap- pened in the past or with what “really” is taking place in the present. We do care about these things, but we are more concerned with what people “believe” happened and what they “be lieve” is going on in the present. In the paper Jessie Embry and I will give, for example, we ‘want to discover what Mormons believe took place at Nauvoo and on the trek west because it is these peliefs that will motivate our behavior, not docu- mentable historical “reality.” Similarly, it is the 56 beliefs about what constitutes proper dating behav- ior and male/female relations that lie in part behind the practices Kristi Bell will discuss. Finally, the art of folklore, the thing that justi- fies our talking about folklore in a meeting devot- ed to Mormon letters, may not be evident in our presentations today, nor in folklore texts on the printed page. The art of folklore lies in the perfor- ‘mance of folklore—in the “telling” of a story or in the “enacting” of a traditional practice. For anyone interested in pursuing this subject further, T have discussed folklore performance in my 1989 AML presidential address, “The Power of the Word,” published in the 1994 AML Annual, Propetly to appreciate folklore artistic expression without witnessing it in live performance is akin to trying to appreciate Beethoven's Ninth Symphony simply by reading the musical score. We may not be able to bring you much more than the score today, but let me assure you that the music exists. It is the force that has kept folklore alive from times immemorial. But it is time to introduce papers and their presenters, The first paper, “Settlement Folk Ideas: Stories of the Mormons’ Move West,” written by Jessie Embry and myself, will be read by Jessie. 1 am pretty much a has-been, recently retired from BYU, floating freely in space, and trying to find a place to settle in the brave new world that lies ahead. Jessie, on the other hand, is the gainfully employed assistant director of the Charles Redd Center for Western Studies, an oral historian par excellence, and a recent convert to folklore study. ‘The second paper, “Practice Makes Perfect: A ‘Twenty-Year Overview of Creative Dates and Invitations,” will be presented by Kristi Bell. Kristi recently completed her M.A. thesis on the narratives of her grandmother and currently serves as the BYU Folklore Archivist. ‘Adam R, Nebeker is currently a second-year medical student at the University of Utah and employed as a sheep rancher at Bear Lake, Idaho. ‘He encountered the phenomenon of spirit pos sion, the subject of his paper, as a missionary in Brazil, became interested in it, and wrote this per while pursuing a B.A. degree in history at BYU in 1996 for a class taught by Steve Epper- son, His presentation is drawn from a longer workthat includes additional discussions, sources, 2 sample questionnaire for Brazilian mission presi- dents, and the questions used in missionary inter- views. WILLIAM A. (BERT) WILSON retired recently from BYU, where be served as chair of the English Department and director of the Charles Redd Center for Wester Studies, and held a Humanities Professorship in Literature and Folklore. He is also an adjunct professor of English at Utah State University. A former editor of Western Folk- lore, Wilson has served as president of the Folklore Society of Utah, az president of the Association for ‘Mormon Letters, as a member of the board of directors of, the Utah Arts Council, and as chair ofthe Folk Arts Pane! of the National Endowment for the Arts. He is a Fellow of the American Folklore Society. NOTE "Baitor’s note: Although Adam Nebeker’s paper, “Spirit Possession in Brazil: A Folklore Study.” was presented in 1 different session it is grouped with these papers because it shares similarities in themes and approaches. WORKS CITED Fife, Austin, and Alta, Saints of Sage and Saddle: Folklore ‘among the Mormons. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1956. a aera raenee rae ennrrseariarrsamneetaa saad TEESE Hand, Wayland D. 1938. “Tue Three Nephites in Popular Tradition.” Southern Folklore Quarterly 2 (September 1938): 123-29. Lee, Hector H. The Three Nephites: The Substance and ‘Significance of the Legend in Folklore. University of New Mexico Publications in Language and Literature, No. 2. Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1949. Oring, Elliott. “On the Concepts of Folklore.” In Folk Groups and Folklore Genres, Ed. Elliott Oring, 1-22. Logan: Utah State University Press, 1986. ‘Terry, Jil. “Exploring Belief and Custom: The Study of ‘Mormon Folklore.” Utah Folklife Newsletter 23 (Winter 1989): 2. Utter, David. “Mormon Superstitions.” The Folk-Lorist 1 (1892-93):76. Wilson, William A. “A Bibliography of Studies in Mormon Folklore.” Utah Historical Quarterly 44 (Fall 1976): 389-94. —. “Mormon Folklore: Cut from the Marrow of Everyday “Experience.” BYU Studies 33, no. 3 (1993): 521-40. —. "The Power of the Word.” AML Annual (1994): 18-14. _—. “The Lore of Polygemy: Twentieth Century Percep- tions of Nineteenth-Century Plural Marriage.” Weber Studies 13 (Winter 1996): 152-61. Settlement Folk Ideas: Stories of the Mormons’ Move West Jessie L. Embry and William A. (Bert) Wilson INTRODUCTION In 1997 Mormons celebrated the 150th anniver- sary of the arrival of Brigham Young in the Great Salt Lake Valley. During the year, they frequently reflected on the experiences of the early pioneers. But after all the study and contemplation, what will they remember from the experience? Will they recall the faith-promoting stories they learned in Primary, Sunday School, seminary, and family home evening? Or will they struggle to find out what “really happened"—if that is ever possi- ble—complete with all the warts? LDS members will probably do both. Histori- ans—lay and professional—have examined the 37 records and published books and articles attempt- ing to explain “the facts.” But other Mormons have continued to repeat the age-old stories. Undoubtedly, the stories have had the greatest impact and will be remembered longer. Why? Because they grow out of and support many Mormons” beliefs, their world view. This paper analyzes what the pioneer stories say about the ‘Mormon belief system. METHODOLOGY ‘To learn what pioneer stories Mormons remem- ber, we gave an open-ended questionnaire to BYU church history students, visitors to the Museum ofChurch History and Art, and ward gospel doctrine classes during January and February 1997.' BYU religion faculty members were especially willing to distribute the questionnaire to classes, so we received 888 responses from these students. The students were just beginning the semester, so they were not reciting what they had leamed in class but what they had been taught earlier. Volunteers handed out the survey at the museum from 10 to 25 January 1997, This period is typi- cally a “slow” time at the museum; but we felt that it would actually be a good time for the survey, since the visitors would be willing to take more time, We received 154 responses. We also received questionnaires from Gospel Doctrine classes: one set from the Avenues area of Salt Lake City, another from Sandy in Salt Lake Valley, one from Holladay, also in Salt Lake Valley (this class had such a high number of young people that it represents a different age ‘spread than the others), one from West Valley City GGome of its members refused to fill out the ques tionnaire because they thought the teacher was trying to “test” them), and one from a small town in Oregon, for a total of 107. In addition, twenty- three Southern California students in an early- morning seminary class answered the questions for a total of 1,172. RESPONDENTS We collected demographic and biographical information from the respondents. (See Tables 1- 4.) The totals do not always add up to 100% pecause some did not respond. Almost half (46%) were from Utah, with Califomia as the next fre- quent state of residence. Nearly all were lifelong members of the Church, and all of the converts had joined at age twenty. ‘The students said they hhad leamed the stories in many places, but the most common location was in church meetings, followed by family, seminary, and personal study. More than three-fourths said “the information had een important to them.” Most did not answer why; but those who did, mentioned testimony building, appreciation of the sacrifice of the early Saints, and understanding church history as rea- sons. THE QUESTIONNAIRE 38 In generating the questions, we thought about stories that we had learned ourselves about the early Mormons. We also talked to other research ers about popular stories. We then wrote twelve questions regarding supposed historical events that might have been elaborated in stories over time. 1n other words, we anticipated the answers; we felt ‘we knew many stories that Mormons believe. We ‘made the questions very simple so respondents could answer them with just a few words. "As we predicted, many respondents knew the ‘common stories, but there were some surprises. ‘Younger BYU students were less likely to answer the questions. On some questions neatly half (around 45%) of the students did not respond. ‘We will analyze each question by (1) giving several professional historians’ interpretations of the event, and (2) showing the responses to the surveys and explaining what they might mean. (Question 1: What was the site of the city of Nauvoo like before the Saints settled there? Projessional Historians’ Interpretations: Like many areas along the Mississippi River, the land that the Mormons purchased was swampy and full fof mosquitoes. These insects caused a malaria epidemic shortly after the Saints arived in 1839. Many died, but Joseph Smith blessed many by the laying on of hands and also by sending handler chiefs that he had blessed. Many were healed. However, the swamp was not “drained.” As long as the Mormons lived in Nauvoo, those who lived ‘lose to the river complained about water in their basements, ‘The entire area was always an un- healthy place to live. New epidemics of malaria cocured in 1840 and 1841. According to BYU religion professor H. Dean Garrett, “The Saints battled disease and sickness to the very day that they fled Nauvoo” in 1846 (170, 180). ‘Responses: Eighty-seven percent of the Sunday ‘School classes, 84% of the museum visitors, 78% of BYU students, and 48% of the seminary stu- dents knew that the area was swampy or marshy. Because we did not ask whether the respondents pelieved that the Mormons drained the swamp, we could not quantify an understanding of that detail. ‘Question 2: How did the Saints know who was to succeed as a president of the Church? Professional Historians” Interpretations: ThereTT ee Gender of Res} rable 1 8 to Church History Survey ‘by Location of Survey N= 2,272 Gender Bro Museum sunday School | Seminary male 428 (48.18) _| 69 (44.88) 63 (58.98) 14 (60.98) Female 460 (51.08) | 85 (55.28) 44 (41,18) 44 (41.18) table 2 age of Respondents to Church History Survey by Location of Survey N= 1,168 Age xu Maseum ‘Sunday School |__ Seminary Under 20 166 (18.78) 7 (4.68) 12 (11.48) 23 (1008) | 20-29 711 (80.08) _| 40 (26.38) 9 (8.68) 30-39 4 30 (19.68) 30 (9.58) 40-49 2 26 (17.08) 26 (19.08) 50-59 3 20 (13.18) 24 (28.68) 60-69 1 12 (7.8%) 19 (18.28) 10-79 ° 14 (9.28) 9 (8.68) J table 3 Repondenta’ of Time in the Church ‘by Location of Survey _ church Time Bry Museum Sunday school |__ Seminary Lifelong 19 (92.18) | 130 (84.48) | 85 (76-68) 22 (968) member Convert, 49_(5.58) 24 (15.68) _| 26 (23.48) 1_(4%) RGtSRIY Gonverte at BYU had Joined before the age of twenty. Age! Rotor palon for museum visitors ranged fron 10 to 65. Age of conversion in fhe Sunday School clase menbers ranged from age 8 to 34. table 4 Source of church History Learning by Location of Survey source Byu Museum Sunday School | Seminary church 500 85 6 16 meetings Books 230 44 49 ° Home 225 21 10 2 Seminary aie 21 24 6 59was confusion after Smith’s death. Historian D. Michael Quinn has identified eight individuals or ‘groups who felt they had the right authority. There were meetings where Young and Rigdon spoke. Was Young “transformed”? Lynne Watkins Jor- gensen, a historian and retired Family History Library employee, has published accounts of people who say they were eyewitnesses to the transformation. Reid L. Harper points out that there are no contemporary records of a transforma- tion and that most accounts of the transformation were written between the 1850s and 1880s when the LDS Church had conflicts with other Joseph ‘Smith-based groups about succession, Harper explains that early historian B. H. Robert did not include the “questionable martyrdom miracles” in his multi-volume history because he did not think the Church's “youth” should “build their faith upon these alleged miracles” (36; Quinn 212; Esplin, “Joseph,” 325; Allen and Leonard 216). ‘While Brigham Young took charge and led the first group to Utah, he was not formally sustained ‘as president of the Church until December 1847 in Towa. Before that happened, the Council of the ‘Twelve debated and finally agreed on the role of the Church president as “the principal spokesman for God on earth” (Arrington 153-55). Responses: The transformation may be Mormon- ism’s best-known miracle next to the seagull story. Fifty percent of the BYU students had heard the transformation story, while 43% of museum visitors, 38% of Sunday school class members, and 17% of the seminary students also reported knowing it. Twelve percent of BYU students did ‘not answer the question, A few respondents said that Joseph Smith had told the Saints that Brigham Young would succeed him, others that the Twelve had the authority, and still others that Brigham Young spoke with power, and a few that Brigham ‘Young received Smith's “mantle” but did not say it was a transformation. However, the next largest answer was that Joseph Smith's successor was identified by revelation: 18% of museum visitors, 17% of the Sunday School classes and seminary students, and 13% of BYU students. ‘Why is the story of Brigham Young’s transfor mation less widely known today? Since Heber J. Grant's death in 1945, eight presidents have taken office, three of them in the last decade alone, In each case the senior apostle succeeded, As aresult, the respondents believe that succession is by seniority because the apostles hold the Keys, in contrast to nincteenth-century LDS who saw several options. Questions 3 and 4: When did the Saints leave Nauvoo? How did they cross the Mississippi River? Professional Historians’ Interpretation: After Joseph and Hyrum Smith were killed in June 1844, unrest between the Mormons and other residents of Hlinois intensified until government leaders asked the Mormons to leave in September 1845, Mormon leaders started organizing the first companies that year, planning to leave in April 1846, Meanwhile, hundreds received their endow- ments from Church leaders in the unfinished temple, However, U.S. District Court issued an indictment against Brigham Young and eight other apostles. Young escaped when another man dis guised himself as Young and submitted to arrest. ‘About the same time, Governor Thomas Ford warmed the Mormons that federal troops might try to interfere with their departure, so Church leaders left the city on February 4. ‘The first group crossed the Mississippi River on flatboats. When the river froze on February 24, many walked or drove across, “interpreting it as a divine favor” (Bennett 230). It thawed a week later, During February, the remaining Church leaders hurriedly performed ordinances, and those who remained behind continued to work on the temple so that it could be dedicated in secret on ‘April 30. By mid-May 1846, nearly twelve thou- sand Saints had crossed the river, and the final six hundred were forced out in September (Bennett 230-34). Responses: BYU students placed the year of the Nauvoo exodus from 1802 to 1885, while semi- nary students’ answers ranged from 1820 to 1850. In one exceptional Sunday School class, the answers were clustered between 1842 and 1846, Forty-six percent of the Sunday School students answered with the correct year (1846), followed by 43% of the museum visitors, 18% of the BYU students, and 17% of the seminary students. “The freezing of the river was a common (but not‘a majority) response for three of the groups. Forty percent of the museum visitors, 36% of the Sun- day School class members, 30% of the BYU students, and 13% of the seminary students knew this story. Thirty-five percent of the Sunday School class members, 33% of the BYU students, 27% of the museum visitors, and 26% of the seminary students identified ferries or rafts as the Principal means of leaving. A smaller group included both the frozen river and boat transport: 31% of the Sunday School class members, 24% of the museum visitors, and 12% of the BYU stu- dents. None of the seminary students seemed to know both parts. And a few of the younger stu- dents guessed that the pioneers had “swum” the river, which probably tells us their ideas of a river. Question 5: How did the Saints react when the federal government asked for volunteers for the ‘Mormon Battalion? Professional Historians’ Interpretations: As the Mormons were preparing to leave Nauvoo, Young ‘asked Jesse C. Little, the Church's agent in Wash- ington, D.C., to request the aid of U.S. President James K. Polk in obtaining government contracts to build blockhouses and forts along the Oregon ‘Trail—or any other kind of work. Through the intervention of friends, including Thomas L. Kane, Little met with Polk. Although Polk would not grant government contracts, he asked Little if the Mormons would enlist five hundred volunteers to march to California, confiding to his diary that he saw this as a way to please the Mormons and test their loyalties. When Little asked if the Battalion could leave immediately, Polk declined; but because the colonel in charge of the military operation received vague instructions, he began the enlistment procedures in the Midwest, ‘Mormon Abraham Day was shocked at the invitation and wrote in his diary, “Here is one man who will not go, dam’um”; but Brigham Young immediately saw the advantages: the Saints would be issued guns that they would be allowed to keep, given an allowance for uniforms that could be spent on more urgent items, and receive regular Pay. He visited the various Mormon camps, encouraging the men to enlist. To help ease the burden on the families left behind, the army arranged for Mormon encampments on Indian 61 lands, ‘They succeeded in filling four and a half companies of a hundred men each and continued to work on enlistments for the final company up to the last day. With the exception of a “sick detach- ‘ment” that left the main company partway through the trip, the rest of the battalion marched to San Diego, where they were mustered out (Yurtimus; Luce 28; Allen and Leonard 237-39). ‘According to Davis Bitton, this story was very early transformed into a symbol of federal oppression, ‘Mormon heroism, and the overruling omnipotence of God. It was told and retold in those terms; even partici- pants started remembering it in those terms. The men of the battalion—and later their descendants—were lion- ized as representatives of truth in a heroic struggle. (74) While some Mormon had resented the call, the accepted story “was a selecting out of certain aspects, dramatizing them, memorializing them, and giving the whole the simplicity of a morality play” (75). Responses: Seventeen percent of the BYU students did not answer the question; but nearly everyone else gave some form of two answers: A minority believed that the Mormons did not ‘welcome the request but volunteered anyway (31% of the Sunday School class members, 26% of the BYU students, 23% of the museum visitors, and 4% of the seminary students). A large majority gave the second answer—that they volunteered willingly: 74% of the museum visitors, 61% of the Sunday School class members, 56% of the BYU students, and 52% of the seminary students. ‘Why did this view prevail instead of the ritual- ized and more heroic view described by Bitton? During the nineteenth century, Mormon relations with the federal government remained hostile, exacerbated by the federal raid against polygamy, unsympathetic federal officers, and many rejec- tions of attempts at statehood. But after Utah finally became a state in 1896, Mormons became super-Americans. Church leaders encouraged Mormon men to enlist in the Spanish-American War as early as 1898; and in every war since then, Mormon leaders have recommended that members support their governments. As a result, the Mor-mon Battalion story has shifted to match the current Church policy: because Mormons are now encouraged to support government leaders, mem- bers believe that battalion members also willingly volunteered. Question 6: After the Saints left Nauvoo, where did they establish communities as they waited 10 cross the plains? Professional Historians’ Interpretations: After the Saints crossed the Mississippi River, they gath- ered at Sugar Creek in Iowa. Brigham Young requested and received permission to stop on public lands and raise crops. They established settlements at Garden Grove and Mt. Pisgah. The trip across owa took months, and it was during this trek—not the longer westward move- ‘ment—that William Clayton wrote the famous hymn, “Come, Come, Ye Saints.” Hopes of going straight on to the West had to be abandoned because of the slow start, so Mormons established winter encampments on both sides of the Missouri at Kanesville (now part of Council Bluffs) in Towa, while a larger group went on to Winter Quarters (now part of Omaha) in Nebraska, The Saints suffered in these temporary homes but also hhad good times visiting and sharing experiences. Responses: Only a few respondents mentioned the way stations, the difficult Iowa crossing, or Council Bluffs. Most of the seminary students did not answer the question at all, and a number of BYU students and museum visitors mistakenly listed Far West, Haun’s Mill, and Independence, all in Missouri—a natural trick of memory to blend similar experiences. However, almost half of the respondents named Winter Quarters in their answer: 63% of the museum visitors, 53% of the Sunday School class members, 49% of the BYU students, and 13% of the seminary students. Why did so many respondents know about Winter Quarters? Much has been written about the suffering on that site, and many were doubtless aware of a famous statue showing a pioneer couple burying their baby, since the original, at Winter Quarters, has been copied in other loca- tions as well. Question 7; As the Mormons began their jour- ney across the plains, what was their intended destination? Question 10: What did Brigham Young say when he saw the Great Salt Lake Valley? Professional Historians’ Interpretations: Before Joseph Smith was killed, he was planning to move the Saints west, hoping to find safety in isolation He read the available reports, rejecting California and Oregon, which were already popular setle- ment sites. John C. Fremont's explorations of the Intermountain area interested him the most, an interest continued by Brigham Young and other leaders after Smith's assassination who coupled their research with fervent petitions for divine assistance. According to Lewis Clark Christian, “The Mormons firmly believed that God was directing and guiding their plans for the exodus. Yet, besides the divine direction, they continued to study and gain all the knowledge that they could” (415; also Jackson, “Mormon”). Ronald K. Esplin agrees that Brigham Young combined intense study and prayer, considered several intermountain regions, and mentioned the Great Basin favorably; but “throughout the western joumey, Brigham Young remained vague regard- ing a precise destination as if he could not be certain until he was on the ground” (105-6). He quotes Erastus Snow as saying the Young stated: “T have seen it in vision, and when my natural ‘eyes behold it, I shall know it” (“Place,” 109). Geographer Richard Jackson argues that a myth of going to an unknown destination began devel- ‘oping in the 1850s and was complete by 1877. This myth filled the function of enhancing Brig- ham Young's role as a prophet according to this logic: if God led Young, then he must be the authorized successor of Joseph Smith. Further, if the Mormons were God’s chosen people, thea like the children of Israel they must “wander” without 1 destination in the wildemess “Mormon,” 49). “Throughout their travels west, the expedition continued to collect reports from explorers and settlers about Cache Valley, Utah Valley, and the Great Salt Lake Valley. The group had broken into three sections by late July: a small advance party charted the route through Emigration Canyon for the main (second) company while Brigham Young, ill with a fever, lagged behind in a third group. He saw the area for the first time on July 24. Accord: ing to his prepared history, “The Spirit of Light 62rested on me and hovered over the valley, and I felt that there the Saints would find protection” (qtd. in Esplin, “Place,” 109). Wilford Woodruff in 1877 reported that Young “had seen the valley before in vision” and said, after looking over the landscape, “It is enough. This is the right place. Drive on” (qtd. in Esplin, “Place,” 109). In 1921, the first “This Is the Place” Monument ‘was dedicated at the mouth of Emigration Canyon. ‘As a result, many Mormons believe that these were Young's actual words. According to folklor- ist Richard C, Poulsen, “Even though several publications familiar to many Mormons have cast serous doubt on the ‘authenticity’ and purpose of Young's statement the belief remains firmly ensconced in the consciousness of the folk.” Why? Because “Mormons see themselves like the chil- dren of Israel who had problems but were led to the promised land,” In Poulsen’s limited survey of thirty people, twenty-seven said the Mormons did not know their final destination, though, according to twenty-cight, Young knew where he was going through “revelation.” He concludes that the Mor- ‘mons had created a “migration myth,” making the Tandscape “holy and therefore habitable” (Land- scape, 190-10, “This,” 252). Responses: All of the respondents understood that the Saints were going somewhere in the West, and a significant fraction of the younger respon- dents identified the locale as “Utah,” suggesting that they interpreted the question as asking where ‘the Mormons settled. But for most, the myth was still important, and over half gave answers indicat- ing their belief that the Mormons were going toward a destination as yet unknown to them: 58% of the BYU students, 53% of the museum visitors, and $1% of the Sunday School class members ‘The exception was seminary students, 13% of whom gave this answer. Nearly everyone, however, knew Brigham Young’s famous statement of recognition or a close version of it: 90% of BYU students (the other 10% left the question blank), 83% of the ‘museum visitors, 69% of the seminary students, and 64% of the Sunday School class members. Since this story reinforces the contemporary emphasis on following the prophet—and since it is a dramatic and often retold and reenacted 63 scene—this high level of recognition seems natu- ral. Question 8: How did the first group of Saints ‘measure how far they had traveled each day? Professional Historians’ Interpretations: Brig- ham Young assigned William Clayton, the assis- tant company clerk, to record data useful for future groups of travelers, including the distance traveled each day. Because his estimates of distance varied as much as four miles from those of others, Clay- ton's professional pride was piqued. Wanting to prove that he was correct, he measured Heber C. Kimball's wagon wheel, calculated how many times it rotated in a mile, tied a piece of cloth to one spoke, and counted how many times it went around during the day. Finding this process “somewhat tedious,” he asked Orson Pratt to design a device that would record each time the wheel went around, and Brigham Young eventual- ly assigned Pratt to work on a design. Appleton Harmon, a skilled carpenter, built the two gear-like instruments, a model of which is on display at the Museum of Church History and Art ‘The “original” odometer has been lost. Another odometer, also on display at the museum, and called “the pioneer odometer,” was made in 1876 by Thomas G. Lowe to measure the distance between Kanab, Utah, and Moenkopi, Arizona, ‘The odometer was not a Mormon invention. Odometers were in common use in the United States and Europe by the time the Mormon pio- neers started west (Wright; Allen 240-41). Responses: Although we expected the odometer to be common knowledge, the answers surprised us. Thirty-nine percent of the Sunday School class members told a story that included the odometer, followed by 36% of the museum visitors, 23% of the BYU students, and 4% of the seminary stu- dents. Almost equal percentages remembered that the pioneers counted whee! rotations, but did not associate it with an odometer: 41% of museum visitors, 28% of BYU students, 26% of Sunday School class members, and 30% of seminary students, Significant numbers in all groups had no answer at all (65% of seminary students, 43% of BYU students, 21% of Sunday School class members, and 18% of museum visitors), while small numbers guessed that they “counted steps”or “measured by the stars” or something similar. We also expected more people to claim that the Mormons invented the odometer but only a few did; no one mentioned that the perhaps unworthy ‘motive of personal pique and internal dissension ‘were part of the invention story or recalled that Brigham Young had to censure the group for rough or uncooperative behavior. Today, the authoritative view of the pioneer company is of perfect obedience to the prophet, no discord, and great cooperation. Question 9: What did Jim Bridger think were the possibilities of settling in the Great Basin? Question 11: What type of vegetation was in the Great Salt Lake Valley when the Saints arrived? Professional Historians’ Interpretations: The Great Basin was the home of Native Americans, especially the Utes. Fremont and other explorers it, Mountain men gathered in Cache Valley and the Bear Lake area, Miles Goodyear had actually constructed a permanent fort in the ‘Ogden area before the Mormons arrived. Brigham Young and other leaders knew that winters were cold and that little rain fell; they had studied irrigation and were prepared to cope with a new environment (Poulsen 109; Jackson, “Righteous,” 21-42). ‘The pioneer group met Jim Bridger en route and consulted with him about the Great Basin. Accord- ing to Clayton, Bridger described both the route and the terrain in a “Very imperfect and irregular way,” called the soil “good” but warmed that the cold nights would prevent growing corm, and expansively stated that he would deal with the Utes by enslaving them (Alter 124). Wilford Woodnuff’s account agreed with Clayton’s about both the soil’s fertility and the frosty nights but reported more positively that Bridger said the Great Basin “was his Paradise and that if these people settled in it he would settle with them” (atd. in Alter 126). Brigham Young, in 1850 and 1870, told the Saints that Bridger had said, “Mr. ‘Young, I would give a thousand dollars if I knew an ear of com could be ripened in these moun- tains” (qtd. in Alter 125), but he may have simply chosen this form to communicate hyperbolically that he did not know (Leonard; see also Esplin, “Place,” 107-8; Campbell 93-94). 4 (On arrival, the Mormons reached the Salt Lake Valley, leaving mixed descriptions of what they found and recording mixed emotions about it. All of them noticed streams, a heavy coating of tall cereal grass, but little timber except on creek banks (Allen and Leonard 257; Jackson, “Righ- teous,” 24, 26; Landon 71-72). “Even the most optimistic of the Saints recognized that the Salt Lake Valley was in an area of inadequate precipi- tation,” notes Jackson (“Righteous,” 23); but the first impression was clearly not that of a barren desert. That image began developing as early as 1850, however, when Willard Richards said the valley had been only “earth, covered with black crickets,” while Apostle George A. Smith by 1852 was calling it “a desert containing nothing but few bunches of dead grass and crickets enough to fence the land.” Early historians Edward W. Tullidge and Orson Whitney used terms like a “dry sterile desert” and a “waste of sagebrush bespangled with sunflowers—the paradise of the lizard, the cricket, and the rattlesnake” (qtd. in Jackson, “Righteous,” 23). ‘This image of the valley as a “barren desert which had been transformed into a beautiful oasis through the faith and works of the Mormon set- tlers” was firmly in place by 1877, not really corrected until the 1980s, and still prevails for “most Mormons,” according to Richard Jackson (‘Mormon,” 51-52, 55). There are a number of reasons for the persistence and popularity of the myth: The Mormons had been forced out of their “Zion,” but the fact that they could make the hostile wilderness “blossom as the rose” was evidence that they were still God's chosen people. ‘Also, it was another element to link them explicit- ly with the children of Isracl; and finally, it suited Brigham Young's “geopolitical” goals since he could cite the example of the Salt Lake Valley in persuading reluctant settlers to go to even more hostile environments (Jackson, “Mormon,” 54). Responses: While we did not expect our respon- dents to know most of these details, we were surprised that these settlement myths were so little known. Forty-five percent of the BYU students did not answer the first question; some even wrote, “Who is Jim Bridger?” There was general agree- ‘ment that the Saints received discouraging predic-tions about settling the area: 72% of the museum visitors used words like “impossible” or “diffi- cult,” followed by 60% of the Sunday School class members, 49% of the BYU students, and 26% of the seminary students. However, only 15% of the Sunday School class members had heard any version of the “ear of corn” story, trailed by 9% of the museum visitors, and 3% of the BYU students. No seminary student mentioned it. In contrast, the myth of the redeemed desert had high recognition—95% of the BYU students and 89% of the museum visitors. When it came to identifying the vegetation, however, the answers were a combination of myth and frank guesses. Between 1% and 8% of the respondents had heard that there was only one tree in the valley. Others listed sagebrush, cactus, tumbleweeds, weeds, and sego lilies. Two confused students said the valley ‘was “swampy” while three said it was “frozen.” In either case, these views reinforce the belief that through faith and works, the Saints made a hostile wilderness “blossom as the rose.” Question 12: What happened when the crickets Started destroying the crops in 1848? Professional Historians’ Interpretations: An indigenous species of black cricket had long been ‘an important part of the Ute Indians’ food supply; although they are always present during the sum- mer, their population goes through periodic peaks and low points, The seagulls are also always present; pre-Mormon explorers mentioned them. In the spring of 1848, the pioneers eagerly planted crops; the vigorous early growth coincided in May with the arrival of the crickets. According to William Clayton, “the ground seems literally alive with very large crickets crawling around grasses and bushes” (qtd. in Hartley 226), The pioneers worked strenuously, setting fires, beating the insects, and drowning them. On 9 June, the sea- gulls arrived, feasted on the crickets, and dis- gorged the carapaces on the shore of the Great Salt Lake, The cricket infestation lasted for about a month, while the seagulls flocked over them for about three weeks. William G. Hartley's close analysis of 1848 Giaries reveals that, while the crickets were a decided nuisance, the situation was not seen as catastrophic in 1848, A report on 21 June to eee eae eae Brigham Young, then in the Midwest, describes the crickets as “still quite numerous and busy eating but between the gulls and our own efforts and the growth of our crops we shall raise much grain in spite of them” (Hartley, 226-30). It is 1849 accounts that stress the beneficent role of the seagulls. “The retelling of the seagull story as a “miracl developed early. Henry Bigler heard the story in 1849 when he returned from California with the ‘Mormon Battalion. In 1853 Apostle Orson Hyde in a general conference sermon called it a miracle. ‘The seagull became the Utah State bird, and the ‘Sea Gull Monument, erected on Temple Square in 1913, has long been a visual aid to explain to visitors how the Lord protected the Mormon settlers. More critical analysis of the seagull miracle story reveals a more complex story. The cricket attacks were endemic to Utah, not a one-time calamity averted by a miracle (Bitton and Wilcox). Furthermore, the crickets were a significant source of nutrition; and if the pioneers had followed the example of the Native Americans, they should have “killfed] the seagulls and eatfen] the seagulls” (Madsen and Madsen 62). Perhaps the most telling point is that the pioneers did not recognize the long-standing symbiotic relationship between the crickets and gulls; in their memory, they collapsed the events of 1848, 1849, and 1850—the crickets feeding on their crops and gulls feeding on the crickets—into a more dramatic story (Hartley). Furthermore, such infestations were not unique to Utah, nor were they confined to pioneer times Gitton and Wilcox). Still the power of the myth is “not the event itself but what the people did with it in latter years.” They “seized upon as a useful symbol of the struggle of darkness against light, the triumph of the later, and of God's providential care over his Saints” Bitton 83), Responses: The cherished place of this story in the consciousness of our respondents was unchal- lenged. Eleven percent of BYU students left this, answer blank, but this figure was the lowest fraction of nonresponse anywhere on that group's array of responses. Ninety-five percent of museum visitors, 90% of the Sunday School class members,88% of the BYU students, and 70% of the semi- nary students all knew the seagull story. In fact, even a non-Mormon who was mistakenly given the questionnaire at the Museum of Church Histo- ry and Art knew it! It is also casy to understand why respondents remember this story. It is dramatic. It clearly ‘communicates the Lord's concern for his Saints. It appears in Mormon art and iconography; and perhaps most importantly, it is repeated often in sermons, lesson manuals, discussions of Utah history, books, and articles. DISCUSSION ‘What do stories like these tell us about these students’ view of the world? Davis Bitton ob- served, “Mormonism provides an instructive case study of the ritualizing of the past by a modem ‘group with an unusually acute self-consciousness” (68). In other words, Mormons not only learn their history, but they tum it into gospel. The history that Latter-day Saints remember may not be exactly how events happen, but they are essential in understanding the Mormon world view. Stories or histories give meaning to people. As Wallace Stegner explained, “Any people in a new land may be pardoned for being solicitous about their history; they create it in a sense by remem- bering it” (qtd. in Bitton, 84). When the Mormons endured persecution, they found comfort in soli- arity with each other. Bitton also argues that the stories are helpful for recent converts and an increasingly international membership who can “easily master the simplified history and accept it as their own” (84). The art competitions of the Museum of Church History and Art are a dramatic example of how this has taken place. For one competition, the museum received art work from countries throughout the world using traditional art forms but showing seagulls and crickets. They internalized the story they heard in church meet- ings and made it their own. A Mormon professor teaching English in China discovered that the only story his students had about the Mormons was that of the seagulls and crickets (Clark). Bitton pleaded that while historians should try to find out “what really happened” (if that is possi- ble), they should not “ridicule all ritualizations of 66 the past. For most of us will possess our history ritualistically or not possess it at all” (85). In recent years, folklorists and historians have used ‘new approaches to look at the tales we tell each other and study how they function in the lives of the tellers. Very few—if any—of the people we surveyed said their answers were important because they explained their belief systems. But as folklorist David J. Hufford explained, “Most people believe a large number of things that they never explicitly state 28 propositions, even to themselves. The natural vehicle of folk belief, perhaps of most belief, is stories that show what is true by what is said to have happened” (20). It's the old question about which came first—the chicken or the egg. It's impossible to know. As Maxine Miska, another folklorist, has explained, “Belief in the supernatural or the transcendent is clearly not simply the result of one’s experience. Belief systems provide the a priori interpretations for experience” (90). Folklorists call such interpre- tations memorates—that is, personal experiences with the extraordinary or seemingly supernatural interpreted, sometimes after discussing the experi- ence with others, according to one’s belief system (Honko). ‘The pioneer stories might not describe exactly ‘what happened, but they do reflect and strengthen belief, According to folklorist Sandra Dolby Stahl, “Manipulation of the reality involved is for the sake of rhetoric—to persuade the listener toward an appreciation of the cultural truths represented by the story” (18). Those stories and their cultural ‘meanings often develop over time, explaining why the overlay of the “miraculous” emerges out of retellings of the resolution of the succession crisis or the aid rendered by the seagulls against the Mormons, ‘As Hufford explained, “One person's miracle is another's coincidence, one person's mystical ‘experience is another's sense of awe at the Beauty and majesty of the universe, one person’s visit from the dead is another person's dream” (27). Or as Glen Leonard, the director of the Museum of Church History and Art, told me, “Some people see the hand of God in all events; others never see iu”Possibly the events pinpointed in this question- naire didn’t actually occur, at least not as they are depicted in the stories. The folklorist’s task, however, is not to debunk what people believe the past to have been but rather to discover in a given culture the forces that give rise to belief narratives and to measure the influence of these narratives on the lives of people. Folklorists are as interested in truth as historians—not the truth of what “really” happened but the truth of what, why, and how people believe events happened. As Apostle M. Russell Ballard explained at the October 1996 general conference: Our pioneer ancestors sacrificed virtually all they bad, including their lives in many cases, o follow prophet of God to this chosen valley... . Pethaps one reason they sacrificed and endured for all of us was to leave a legacy of faith for all of us to help us feel our ‘urgent responsibility to move forward in building up the ‘Church throughout the world. (23) Or to put the same ideas into folklore terms, the lessons of the pioneers “have been drilled into (generations of Mormon young people] as they have been encouraged to press on and on in whatever tasks they have been given in building up the kingdom” (99). Mormons see their history as sacred. Often the stories are oversimplified, but this is because their ‘goal is not simply to understand the past. Rather they are an important carrier of Mormon identity. and doctrine. Understanding these stories gives researchers, historians, and folklorists an irreplace- able window into understanding Mormon beliefs. JESSIE L. EMBRY is assistant director of the Charles Reda Center for Western Studies, in charge of its oral history program. BERT WILSON is former director of the Redd Center and former chair of BYU's English Depart- ment, NOTE ‘The paper presented at the AML annual meeting used preliminary data gathered in January 1997. WORKS CITED Allen, James B. Trials of Discipleship: The Story of or as William Clayton, a Mormon. Urbana: U Uinois P, 1987. —, and Glen M. Leonard. The Story of the Latter-day Saints. 24 ed. Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1992. ‘Alter, J. Cecil K. Jim Bridger. Norman: U of Oklahoma P, 1962. Bitton, Davis. “The Ritvalization of Mormon History.” Uiah Historical Quarterly 43 (Winter 1975): 73-87. Bitton, Davis, and Linda P. Wilcox. “Pestiferous Ironclads: ‘The Grasshopper Problem in Pioneer Utah.” Uiah Historical Quarterly 465 (Fall 1978): 336-55. Campbell, Eugene E. Establishing Zion: The Mormon Church in the American West, 1847-1869. Salt Lake City: Signature Books, 1988 Christian, Lewis Clark. “Mormon Foreknowledge of the West.” BYU Studies 21 (Fall 1981): 403-15. (Clark, Marden J. Conversation with Jessie L. Embry. 1 February 1997. Esplin, Ronald K. “Joseph, Brigham, and the Twelve.’ BYU Studies 21 (Summer 1981): 301-41. —. “"A Place Prepared’: Joseph, Brigham, and the Quest for Promised Refuge in the West.” Journal of Mormon History 9 (1982): 85-111. Garret, H. Dean. “Disease and Sickness in Nauvoo.” Regional Studies in Latier-day Saint Church Histo- ryIllinois. Ed. H. Dean Garrett. Provo, UT: Depart- ‘ment of Church History and Doctrine, 1995. Harper, Reid L. “The Mantle of Joseph: Creation of @ ‘Mormon Miracle.” Journal of Mormon History 22 (Fall 1996): 35-71. Harley, William G, “Mormons, Crickets, and Gulls: A New Look at an Old Story.” Utah Historical Quarterly 38 (Summer 1970): 224-38. Hionko, Lauri. “Memorates and the Study of Folk Beliefs.” ‘Journal of the Folklore Institute 1 (1964): 5-19. Hitford, David J. “Beings Without Bodies: An Experience- Centered Theory of the Beliefs in Spirits.” Out of the Ordinary: Folklore and the Supernatural. Fa. Barbara ‘Walker. Logan: Utah State UP, 1995. Jackson, Richard H. “The Mormon Experience: The Plains as Sinai, the Great Salt Lake as the Dead Sea, and the Great Basin as a Desert-Cum-Promised Land.” Journal of Historical Geography 18 (January 1992): 41-58. —. “Righteous and Environmental Change: The Mormons and the Environment.” Essays in the American West, 1973-1974, Ed. Thomas G. Alexander. Charles Redd Center Monographs in Western History, No, 5. Provo, UT: Charles Red Center, 1975. Jorgensen, Lynne Watkins. “The Mantle of the Prophet Toseph Passes o Brother Brigham: A Collective Spiritu- al Witness." BYU Studies 36.4 (1996-97):125-204. Landon, Michael, and William W. Slaughter. Trail of Hope: The Story of the Mormon Trail. Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1997, Leonard, Glen, Conversation with Jessie L. Embry. 10January 1997. Luce, W. Ray. “The Mormon Battalion: A Historical “Accident?” Utah Historical Quarterly 42 (Winter 1974): 27-38, Madsen, David B., and Brigham D. Madsen. “One Man's ‘Meat Is Another Man's Poison: A Revisionist View of the Seagull ‘Miracle.""A World We Thought We Knew: Readings in Utah History. Eas. John S, McCormick and John R. Sillito. Salt Lake City: U of Utah P, 1995, Miska, Maxine. “Aftermath of a Feiled Seance: The Func- tions of Skepticism in a Traditional Society.” Out of the Ordinary: Folklore and the Supematural. Ed. Barbara Walker. Logan: Utah State UP, 1995, Poulsen, Richard C. The Landscape of the Mind: Cultural Transformation of the American West. American University Studies, American Literature Series, Vol. 23. Ne York: Peter Lang, 1992. ‘This Is the Place’: Myth and Mormonism.” Western Folklore 36 (July 1977): 246-52. Quinn, D. Michael. “The Mormon Succession Crisis of 1844." BYU Studies 16 (Winter 1976): 187-233. Stahl, Sandra Dolby. Literary Folkloristies and the Person- al Narrative. Bloomington: Indiana UP, 1989. Wilson, William A. “The Study of Mormon Folklore: An Uncertain Mirror for Truth." Dialogue: A Journal of Mormon Thought 22 (Winter 1989): 95-110, Wright, Norman E. “I Have a Question.” Ensign 11 (Au- gust 1981): 30-31 Yurtimus, John F. “Here Is One Man Who Will Not Go, Dam'um.” BYU Studies 21 (Fall 1981): 475-87. Practice Makes Perfect: A Twenty-Year Overview of Creative Dates and Invitations Kristi A. Bell Last October, Orem High had a Sadie’s Dance. ‘These days, of course, merely asking the young ‘man of your choice face-to-face isn’t even an option. Well, my daughter Shannon thought long and hard and came up with a solution. Given that pumpkins were plentiful at the time, it seemed natural to use one as part of the invitation. So, ‘Shannon bought a pumpkin and wrote “Pumpkin, will you go to Sadie’s with me?" on the outside of the pumpkin, Then she cut off the stem of the pumpkin, bought some flowers, inserted them into the pumpkin, and wrote her name on one of the flowers so that her intended would know who had sent the invitation, However, what might seem to be a mildly clever idea didn’t stop there. Shannon asked one of this, boy's teachers if the invitation could be delivered in the teacher's class, The teacher agreed and the plot thickened. Shannon didn’t actually deliver the pumpkin herself. She enlisted two friends, one of whom handed him the pumpkin while the other expertly planted a pumpkin pie on his face. Now it was time for Shannon to live in fear. Friends warned her to have a change of clothes in her locker. After all, one good tum deserves another, Finally, the day of retribution came. The 68 same teacher gave “Pumpkin Boy” permission to answer Shannon in her class, and the young man invited Shannon to come to the front of the room. About 150 a capella singers watched anxiously as, “Pumpkin Boy” told Shannon that the answer to her question was in a pie tin full of whipped cream. The catch was that she would not be allowed to use her hands to find the answer. Swiftly, he grabbed her hands, but he wasn’t fast enough. Shannon reached for the tin of cream and smeared it in his face. The prospective date wasn’t going to allow Shannon to get away with such a dirty deed, and so he and his friends immediately ‘commenced spraying her with whipped cream. Eventually, Shannon saw the bottom of the pie plate and read the words, “Yes, my little cream pie, I'd love to go to Sadie’s with you.” After several days (and two unnecessary loads of laun- dry) the date became reality. While Shannon's experience is memorable for her and her friends, her creative invitation and her date’s response are part of a custom that has stood the test of a generation. As I sat in an Introduction to Folklore class at BYU in the fall of 1977, I listened to my professor, William A. Wilson, discuss a new folk custom that he was seeing hidaughter participate in~creative dating. He was interested in having a student do a field project focusing on creative dating. I found the idea intriguing. Plus, I thought it wouldn't hurt my relationship with my professor to follow one of his, suggestions. My original project dealt more with creative dates than creative invitations. Over the last twenty years many projects on the subject have joined mine in the BYU Folklore Archive where I now work as the archivist. We have reached the point where we have sufficient data to analyze the how, what, where, and why of creative dating. The Folklore Archive's dating material is almost exclusively LDS. The topic of the dating and courtship customs of LDS youth was considered significant enough by the Religious Studies Center at BYU to warrant a grant for a research assistant. Kate Snyder's organization of archive materials and outside research contributes significantly to this presentation. I find it appropriate for the Religious Studies Center to support studying dating customs like creative dating because these customs are an outgrowth of the LDS culture, ‘The Prophet Joseph Smith once said, “I teach them correct principles and let them govern them- selves.” The youth of the Church are taught correct principles almost from infancy. During their adolescence, parents, teachers, and leaders reinforce these principles and make suggestions for ‘implementing them. In addition to the manuals, class discussions, private advice, and traditional family practices, each teenager receives a pamphlet entitled “For the Strength of Youth” when he or she tums twelve and joins Young Women or ‘Young Men. Of the various standards youth are exhorted to uphold, the first discussed is dating. ‘Teenagers are cautioned to “begin to prepare now for a temple marriage. Proper dating is a part of that preparation” (7). ‘This pamphlet suggests that proper dating should not involve serious dating, and through other means the Church has provided young ‘members with ideas about what type of dating encourages wholesome fun, In 1971 the New Era Published a list of the best dates for the year. Similar lists have followed through the years, with one being published in 1996 (Payne; “Q&A"), o a ct Books about creative dating or containing chapters on creative dating ideas have been published (Cline; Handbook; Yorgason). Popular LDS novels for young people have focused on unusual dates. Since Jack Weyland sent Sam and Charly on their timeless ferris wheel ride, creative dating has become a hallmark of any good LDS adolescent novel (9). ‘The New Era and Jack Weyland are read throughout the Church; and in recent interviews with BYU students, I discovered that there are pockets in the western states where the Mormon community is large enough to sustain a mild tradition of creative invitations, But there is no doubt that creative dating and invitations are practiced more frequently along the Wasatch Front. I have found that students from the East may have heard about creative dating, but have not participated in it themselves. One interviewee said that his priests quorum advisor, a Utaha, tried to introduce creative dating in Virginia. The young ‘men thought it sounded interesting but never did anything about it. Thus, it is not surprising that the majority of submissions in the archive involve high school students from the Wasatch Front or BYU students, As a result, the examples in this paper will reflect the trends along the Wasatch front. When I did my project in 1977, the informants thought that creative dating and invitations were the best part of their dating career. Overall, the participants felt that girls either initiated creative dating or provided boys with ideas that they later used with other dates. Many unusual dates and ating practices are an outgrowth of girls” reverse dances. One informant from Provo, Denise Wilson, attributed her girlftiends’ use of both creative invitations and dates to the fact that girls are “scared” and “feel dumb” since they don't typi- cally ask boys out or plan dates very often and they are scared boys will think they are too “seri- ous so the girls plan things that will be fun,” thereby relieving their own anxiety. One example Denise provided occurred after a Sadie Hawkins Dance. After the dance’s end, the ‘two girls brought bandannas from their lockers, blindfolded their dates, and led them to the park- ing lot, where Denise's friend's sister waited in avan. The guys were hesitant about entering the van but they finally did. The driver was very quiet and the girls played a tape which had been prepared previously. The recording was of Denise and her friend pretending to be stewardesses. They told the boys they were leaving “Hicksville, U.S.A.” and ‘would be in Turkey in fifteen minutes, Meanwhile, they were driving on “bumpy roads, sidewalks, Jawns,” you name it, They finally ended up at Denise's friend’s house, and the two girls took the Doys into a tent pitched in the backyard and removed the blindfolds. The interior had been decorated a la turque. A veiled friend dressed in a Turkish costume brought hot towels, then served ‘a dinner of Middle Eastern food, and serenaded them on the violin, When the two couples finished dinner, the two gitls blindfolded their dates, took them to the van, traveled bad roads, and ended up ‘back in the school parking lot leaving their loca- tion for the evening a mystery. I find it interesting that the archive rarely re- ceives any submissions like the Turkish dinner anymore, where the invitation is traditional but the activity is unusual. Instead, creative invitations to traditional dating activities, especially major school dances, dominate the material we currently re- ceive. A conversation that I innocently overheard at a fabric store recently may account for the ‘change from creative dates to creative invitations. It was prom time at Orem High, Two women and their daughters were thumbing through pattern books in search of the perfect dress. They began discussing the upcoming dance, and the conversa- tion tured to the most fantastic prom date that had ever taken place at Orem High--apparently a year earlier. While everyone has his or her own date, couples form groups to attend the all-important activities during the day for which the evening prom is allegedly the culminating event. The forming of groups reflects compliance with the advice of General Authorities of the LDS Church as well as the booklet For the Strength of Youth. This story involved a group of four couples. Bither the young ‘men, or their parents, saw no reason for a moder- ate budget. On Friday evening, the group of eight flew to southern California, Parents more trusting that I would tend to be agreed that the girls would 70 be in one hotel room while the boys occupied the other. The young men and women then spent a fun-filled day at Disneyland, In the late afternoon, the group hopped a plane for Salt Lake City, avoiding heavy Saturday afternoon traffic by helicoptering back to Orem. ‘Quickly, the couples changed into formal wear and took a limousine back to Salt Lake, where they dined in splendor. Finally, they returned to Orem in time for pictures and one or two dances at the prom. Could a teenage girl dream of a better date? Perhaps not, Thave heard parents complain about the cost of ‘creative dating. Instead of who can come up with the best ideas, creative dating has become who can spend the most money. As my daughter said after recently dropping $100 on a dance date, “I could have bought a pair of Doc Martens.” Is the cost really worth it? In item after item lodged in the folklore archive, the informant, in various words, communicates that planning and delivering the invitation are more fun than the actual date. Perhaps one of the reasons that the custom of creative invitations and acceptances is so memorable is because of the narratives that are the result of the custom. While the actual participation in the custom of creative invitations and acceptances allows individuals to step out of their everyday persona, strengthen ties between friends, and increase family bonds, it is the telling and retelling of the resulting narratives that help perpetuate the custom and give it lasting, value outside of the initial fun experience. Consider again the story of Shannon and the pie in the face invitation. Shannon is usually rather reserved. However, her invitation was somewhat spectacular. She enjoyed being in the limelight for several days, People whom she didn't really know would come up to her and ask if she was the one who did the pie invitation. Her peers thought it was a cool way to ask a guy out. Shannon used her imagination to adapt a custom in an original way. Her use of the custom then became @ narra- tive that gave her status in the annals of Orem High dating history. ‘One BYU student who was an Oregon native saw another advantage to creative invitations Susan felt that asking creatively “focuses yournervous energies.” She saw creative asking as a ‘way to find the creativity in others. She says that “just asking a guy out is dull, anything creative is attractive. I look for the creativity in people” (BYUFA Collection #1086, No. 3). Following her convictions, Susan shared with a collector one way that she asked a boy out to BYU's Preference Ball: This is how I asked John Brown to Preference 1990. Fint of all, I started off his day by leaving one long stemmed red rose on his porch with a note that said “Make a great day.” Which meant in my terms to make the best of your day. Later in his biology clas, Thad a frieod deliver two long stemmed red roses. The note read ‘Sweet Dreams.” The biology teacher made John come to the front ofthe class and proceeded to embar- ass Jobn. The class made John read the note, but he haad no idea what it meant. That night when Jobn was ‘away from home, I left a while rose on his bed. The note suid “Don't forget to say your prayers and read your scriptures... . Prepare for a vision.” This was & foreshadowing. At three that morning, several of my friends dressed up in sheets and delivered message (sion) to him. Hallelujah music played in the back- ground. My friends used flashlights to make themselves Jook like angels. One angel had a French bom and tooted it, to wake John. The angels had scroll with a scripture oni, then read to him the commandments and promises which the scripture held. (BYUFA Collection #1086, No. 3) Unfortunately, Susan didn’t elaborate on what the scroll said, but I surmise that it contained the invitation to Preference and the promise of an incredible evening. Obviously, Susan’s invitation would have been impossible without help from her friends. And her friends needed to do things that they wouldn't normally do, such as disrupting a biology class and getting up at three in the moming to be angels. Certainly both Susan's and John's friends discussed this unusual invitation. It is also possible that John’s fellow biology students asked him what happened. Friends played a big part in Susan’s ability to pull off her invitation. But friends aren’t the only source of inspiration for creative dating. Recently I had lunch with a woman who had no idea that I was studying creative dating; but she brought up the subject of n creative invitations and replies and spent almost an hour regaling me with stories about her five daughters, all now married. The customs of cre- ative invitations and replies have become family stories which express family solidarity and ingenu- ity. Parents often help their offspring with their creative dating. Not long ago, we welcomed a complete stranger into our home and allowed him to trash our daughter's bedroom. He arranged toilet paper on the ceiling above her bed to spell “yes.” Then we waited anxiously for her to return home. It was fun to see her happy face as she ‘complained about the mess he had made, As I helped her clean up the strewn-about newspapers, I discussed her first Preference dance with her and felt part of an exciting moment of her life. Often, extended family members will become part of the creative social situation, One young woman sent her brother-in law, dressed as Cupid, to deliver her response. He sang and danced beautifully while conveying the answer “yes.” ‘After his performance, he shot a little arrow and left a young man and his family in shock. However, there are families who contribute not only their talents but a part of their livelihood for a truly memorable invitation, Angela, a high school student, was visiting calmly with her family when a knock came at the door, and a policeman who filled the door frame announced that he needed to speak with her about something that had happened at school that day. ‘Angela was panicked. Her father was dismayed. But the officer insisted that Angela accompany him to his car. Reluctantly, she did, In the back seat sat a boy who asked her to Preference. His father was the chief of police, and the officer had enjoyed helping out his boss's son. It is amazing how helpful responsible adults are when it comes 10 participating in a creative invitation, Creativity and imagination are an enormous part of why people of all ages are willing to participate in the custom of creative invites and dates, In a 1977 interview, Alison Hobbs voiced her opinion that her Mormon friends “are trying to have fun in a different way than other kids.” Mormons are ooking for “wholesome . . . fun activities” which can be provided by creative dating (BYUFACollection #158, Appendix ID. ‘The August 1986 issue of the New Era pub- lished an Education Week address by composer Crawford Gates. He asserted that “one of the ways the Holy Spirit helps us is that it makes us more creative” (38). ‘The thing that is meaningful to us creatively occurs when something that we do our own individual selves—from that part of us which makes us different-is recognized to some small degree as being valuable to someone else. When each of us applies this in our families, in school, at work, of at play, that which we give to others becomes of even greater value to ourselves (47). Now, while I do not suggest that creative invita- tions are in any way necessary for salvation, Gates’s conclusions are interesting. The custom of creative invitations and dating allow an expression of creative power while at the same time reinforc- ing gospel instructions and binding friends and family. Despite the seeming fluff of creative invitations and dating, it is definitely a custom worth preserving. KRISTI A. BELL isthe folklore archivist for the Brigham Young University Archives. She also writes folklore columns for the (Provo) Daily Herald and This People. Kristi published an entry, “Folklore Archive,” with Alan Paige Kimbel in Encyclopedia of Folklore, edited by Jan Brunvand (New York: Garland, 1996). WORKS CITED Note: Items from the Brigham Young University Folklore Archive (BYUFA), Harold B. Lee Library, Brigham Young University, Provo, Utah, are cited by item ‘umber, name of collector, and date of interview. Cline, Vivian R. Dating, Dining, Dancing, and Other Teen Dilemmas. Salt Lake City: Bookeraf, 1994. Gates, Crawford. “Creativity and the Latter-day Seint.” New Era, August 1986: 38, 47. ‘The Handbook to Creative Dating, Provo, UT: Upper Case Printing and Publ. Co., 1973. For the Strength of Youth. Salt Lake City: Corporation of the President, 1994, Payne, Jaynann M. “Top Ten Dates of 1971." New Era, September 1971:8-11. “Q&A.” New Era, May 1996:16-18. Yorgason, Brenton G. Dating: Surviving and Thriving in the Social Scene. Sait Lake City: Bookeraft, 1995. Weyland, Jack. Charly. Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1980. Spirit Possession in Brazil: A Folklore Study Adam Nebeker T believe that I have seen a spirit take control of a human body. The first time I was witness to such a happening, my hair stood on end and I leaped from my chair. Stories of how other mis- sionaries had confronted demoniacs flooded into my consciousness; with the blind faith of an obedient elder, I collected myself, raised my right arm, and commanded the spirit to Ieave in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ. But the threatening older woman before me did not become peaceful or docile. Only after her daughter and my compan- ion physically restrained her (and after two min- utes of my attempted exorcism) did she calm down and change in a way that I interpreted as the spirit leaving her. On that day, my curiosity in the supernatural was sparked. ‘The phenomenon of spirit possession has been 2 noted for centuries among many groups. A 1973 study of 488 societies all over the world found that 90% had “one or more institutionalized, culturally patterned forms of altered states of consciousness; 251 (or 52%) of these societies associate such experiences with spirit possession” (Pressel 7; see also Edmonds 160-61, 190-91; Hill 35-36, 38-39; Pressel 1-2.). For the purposes of this paper, I have defined spirit possession as any altered state of consciousness and physical behav- jor caused by the influence of an alien spirit which has temporarily ‘taken up residence” within the physical and psychic framework of a person “possessed.” This study offers a brief overview of the history and characteristics of spirit possession, particularly within the Brazilian Umbanda cult; a summary of Mormon doctrine and speculativeexplanations of spirit possession; and case studies ‘of contemporary missionary experiences with spirit possession in Brazil, The evidence presented ‘argues that spirit possession is real and, at least as experienced by missionaries, generally malign. SPIRIT POSSESSION IN BRAZIL'S UMBANDA ‘Umbanda is an African-Brazilian-European hybrid. Brazil's Indian and African religions both included spirit possession and trance as important practices (Bastide 135). For example, Yoruban slaves from the area which is now Nigeria brought their religion with them to Brazil in 1542 (Wil- liams 5). In Yoruba religions, mediums receive Yoruba deities (orixds), who are intermediaries between the supreme god, Olorun, and mortals (Hess 14), Over time, Yoruba fused with Catholi- cism to produce a number of syncretic hybrid cailts, including Macumba (Pressel 333); for instance, Olorun is seen as God the Father, and the orixds are conflated with the saints. In about 1863 Brazilians were introduced to ‘Allan Kardec (1809-69), a French spiritualist who claimed spirit rappings and automatic writing as the source of his teachings (Langguth 10). Kardec saw a scientific foundation in reincarnation and spirit communication through mediums (Hess 15). Spirits “obsessed” (rather than possessed) victims of black magic or those consumed by “baser thoughts” (Hess 22-23, 90). During the 1920s, Umbanda gradually emerged, new religious practice combining Kardec’s spiritism with the aspect of Macumba that regular- ly practiced spirit possession (Bastide 319). Um- banda differentiated itself from another form of Macumba known as Quimbanda, which openly traffies in black magic and evil spirits (Pressel 334). (Macumba is still in current use, generically and derogatorily, for Afro-Brazilian religions like Umbanda.) Brazilians are reluctant to talk about Macumba-telated religions and rarely admit to Practicing it; but Umbanda centers exist all over Brazil today, primarily attracting lower social groups (Bramly 9; Williams 10). In general, Umbandists stress spiritual consulta- tions during which possessed mediums will diag- nose and treat illnesses or personal problems through one of two methods. The first is posses- B an sion by one of five types of Yuruba spirits (Pressel 335-36, 338): (1) Caboclos are the spirits of dead Brazilian Indians. The medium they possess “will display protruded lips, furrowed brows, and eyes that slowly open and close, staring into space.” ‘Stern and aloof, they want to smoke cigars and drink beer. (2) Pretos velhos, the spirits of dead Afro-Brazilian slaves, are patient, “gentle and easy to approach,” desiring to smoke pipes and sip red wine, The mediums they possess show “stooped and trembling bodies” and “slow and quivering voices.” (3) Criancas are the spirits of children who died between three and five years of age. ‘Their medium “skips, rolls, and tumbles” about, often asking for candy and soft drinks. (4) Exiis are the spirits of “especially wicked” people. They are often rude and vulgar—not desirable visitors to the Umbandists, who use them primarily to re- move curses in exchange for rum, tobacco or brandy (Bastide 329-30). (5) Orixds come from a more elevated, even divine, realm. Because a medium possessed by an orixd “would explode,” they communicate indirectly through highly evolved spirits of the dead. ‘The second form of Umbanda consultation, borrowed from Kardec, involves appraisal of “fluids” (spiritual emanations) from one’s own spirit, spirits of dead, and spirits of living persons Pressel 338). To safeguard the mediums and their clients, ‘most possessions take place only in Umbanda centers where conditions can be controlled. A typical session begins by burning herbs and sing- ing as protection against undesired extis and evil fluids. Brief sermons on the Christian virtues of Tove and charity and prayers to Oxalé (Jesus Christ) may follow. After the consultation, the ‘medium will often purify the consulter by passing higher hand over and/or blow smoke around the person and himself/herself, While the majority of these desirable spirit possessions are solicited in a controlled environment, spontaneous possessions can occur during and outside of the Umbanda meetings—both to a medium or to a member of the audience. ‘The possessed individual often shakes and shrieks, requiring assistance from a cult leader. Cult members claim that such possessions usually happen to inexperienced mediums whoneed further development (Pressel 343-45). MORMON EXPLANATIONS OF SPIRIT POSSESSION Unlike Ubandists, who believe that most spirit possession can be beneficial, Mormons, though believing in the existence of both good and evil spirits, hold that spontaneous possession (and almost all spirit possession) is malign and origi- nates with the devil. The possibility that a possess- jing spirit might be benign is conceded only cau- tiously (McConkie 686; Collier 234); angels and 00d spirits influence but do not possess (MeCon- kie 40; however, cf. 1 Sam. 10:6; Jacob 7: Alma 19:5-6). The earliest recorded exorcism in the Church occurred when Joseph Smith cast out of Newel Knight an evil spirit who “distorted and twisted,” “elevated [him] off the floor,” and “tossed [him] about most fearfully” (Jesse 247; see also Jenson 20), Brigham Young and other leaders emphatically ‘warned against spirit possession (Collier 244; see also Clark 1:139,). They also spoke specifically against spiritualism, by which they meant all belief systems involving spirit possession. In 1859, Brigham Young called spiritualism “from the devil”—"a mass of confusion” that cannot produce order (JD 13:266). George Q. Cannon in 1869 said it was “a cunning plan . . . of the devil to deceive people and prevent men and women from obeying the teachings of Jesus” (164). In 1877, Joseph F. Smith warned that spiritualism’s practitioners “depart from the faith” and quoted 1 Timothy 4:1 identifying spiritualism as “seducing spirits, and doctrines of devils” (19:196). James E, Talmage in 1912 warmed that spiritualists put their trust in “Satan's counterfeit of God’ eternal power” (211). Bruce R. McConkie identified most of the spirits that contact mediums as “demons or devils,” denouncing spiritualism itself as “among the vilest of abominable and iniquitous practices” and also “the worship of devils rather than of God” (686- 87). Chauncey C. Riddle warned that these de- mons’ powers include the abilities to tempt, foster illness and disease, cause mortal death, possess animals, possess humans, and communicate with individuals to teach Lies (1:380). In Mormon theology, possessing spirits are 4 motivated not only by evil intentions toward human beings but also by a desire to have the experience of being within a human body. “The ‘great principle of happiness consists in having a body,” said Joseph Smith (Burton, Discourses, 181, 297-98). However, the righteous need not fear because, as Joseph Smith taught, the devil “can obtain the tabemnacle of man,” but he has no power over us unless “we permit him” (Burton, Discourses, 82) by a specific invitation to posses- sion or by general moral weakening through disobedience to God's commandments (“Brother Jones” {pseud.]). In addition to general righteous ness, members are enjoined to exercise discern- ‘ment, lest they be unwittingly influenced by evil spirits (Collier 236-39; Burton, Discourses, 8; D&C 50:22-23, 31-33). The Holy Ghost would not influence a person toward disorder, confusion, and indecorous behavior (Burton, Discourses, 111-12, 117, 239; Nelson 4, 7). In short, Mormons believe that spirit possession is a reality. Unlike the Umbandists, however, theology and practice alike emphatically maintain that possessing spirits are evil in origin and pur- pose. People are strongly warned to not flirt with possession but to assure their own protection by living obedient lives. BRAZILIAN MISSIONARY EXPERIENCES ‘To examine the phenomenon of spirit possession in Brazil, I mailed a survey to twenty presidents of Brazilian missions and interviewed ten missionar- ies who served in Brazil. A majority had per- sonally witnessed spirit possession, and all be- lieved that the phenomenon was generally malign. ‘The mission presidents overwhelmingly believed that possessing spirits should be avoided, usually counseling their missionaries to protect themselves against possession by obedience and also to avoid seeking events of spirit possession. ‘Area presidents and General Authorities ac- knowledge the phenomenon of spirit possession in Brazil but apparently provide litle if any training in confronting such spirits. The training manual at the Provo Missionary Training Center says only that Umbandists’ “worship is filled with black magic and it is best to avoid them” (Language 38). According to one mission president, D. D. Cow-ley, mission presidents are left to inform their missionaries about possession at their own discre~ tion, but the General Authorities of the Church “want the subject left alone.” Only four of the twenty former mission presi- dents responded to the survey in writing, an indication of possible discomfort with the topic. ‘When I made follow-up telephone calls, only six gave me permission to quote them. All expressed ‘great concem about the subject and all counseled me to stay away from it. Cowley acknowledged that he had had many personal experiences but felt he should not say anything more. However, they all agreed that it was real and serious. Cory W. Bangerter, a mission president in Rio de Janeiro (1984-87), wrote, “I must admit that 1 am very uncomfortable in addressing [it).” Hal R. Johnson, mission president in Rio de Janeiro (1968-71), did not remember any of his missionaries having encounters with spirit possession but still said it ‘was something to stay away from. Robert R. Steuer, president of the Sto Paulo North Mission (1984-87) and an M.D., suggested that epilepsy was a possible explanation for possession (Valium “stopped one such bad experience”), but added, “I know [spirit possession] is real!” Lenis Knighton, ‘mission president in Rio de Janeiro (1987-90), said ‘that people “shouldn't even talk about it” because they can “feel the presence of evil spirits.” Fur- thermore, “missionaries shouldn’t talk or think about it.” Rather, he continued, they “should think of wholesome things.” Max L. Shirts, mission president in Rio de Janeiro (1978-81), confidently wrote that, “Yes, spirits are real, and are capable of possessing the bodies of men here on the earth.” “Brother Jones,” an emeritus General Authority, reiterated that missionaries “should stay far away from” spirit possession activities and that missionaries “shouldn't have a curiosity to study and read about it.” “At the maximum,” he conced- ed, “they can be alerted about i.” For the most part, mission presidents instructed their missionaries on a need-to-know basis, gener- ally after individuals had witnessed such an event. ‘Trevor Hickey, a missionary in Recife from 1993-95, and Ryan Mansfield, a missionary in Campinas from 1992-93, heard several accounts but did not believe in spirit possession until they hhad personal experience with the phenemenon. Hickey's mission president did not talk about spirit possession—it was kept quiet.” Orson P. Arnold, president of the Brazilian South Mission (197073), expressed less concem about possible harm; he taught his missionaries to treat Umbandists like Catholics: “Teach the gospel or move on.” Gary Bevin, a missionary in Ribergo Preto from 1991- 93, had a mission president who “mentioned nothing” about spirit possession. Knighton did not formally instruct his missionaries about spirit possession nor did he teach them how to cast out a spirit in general meetings. Rather, he minimized his missionaries’ exposure to the concept and dealt with incidents “one-on-one.” Steuer likewise dealt with each case “as it arose” but specifically told his missionaries to “deal with the situation . . . cast it out,” also suggesting that the missionaries “seek medical help for {the] person as necessary.” Shirts instructed his missionaries “to avoid close contact” with religious beliefs that involved spirit possession, “regardless of how absurd or weird these practices may seem to us.” LeRoy A. Drech- sel, president of the Sio Paulo North Mission (1972-75) also instructed his missionaries to “‘stay as far away as possible from anything to do with spiritualism, macumba, etc, . . . The power of evil is real. Leave it alone—if encountered, leave the place.” My mission president, Helington Lemos, a Brazilian who served in the Campinas Mission from 1992-95, never talked specifically about spirit possession but rather spent a series of mis- sionary conferences on the nature and power of evil and Satan so that we, understanding it, would avoid it. Further, after hearing that most missionar- ies knew about the near-possession of an elder in our mission, Lemos “briefly went over spirit possession but didn’t go into a lot of detail.” He taught that “spirits are scared of us as missionar- ies” because “they know better than us what power and authority we have. . . . [The missionar- ies} don’t need to fear what they do” (Hipwell). Lemos evidently believed, as Joseph Smith did, that “A man is saved no faster than he gets knowl- edge, for if he does not get knowledge, he will be brought into captivity by some evil power . . . as evil spirits will have more knowledge and conse-quently more power than many men on the earth” Burton, Doctrines, 290). Interviewed after his mission, Lemos indicated that simply not desiring spirit possession helps one avoid possession. When he was eighteen years old and not yet a Mormon, Lemos entered a Macumba center out of curiosity. The cult center’s leader identified him as a medium and had him stand with the other mediums to receive spirits. Eventu- ally “all the people with him received spirits” but him; he did not want to become “possessed.” He felt an “enormous heat,” his “hands dripped sweat,” and he prayed for protection, He was not Possessed, left, and never returned. He comment- ed, “Satan doesn’t respect our free agency. If a person were to go to a spiritist center, even if he doesn’t want it, he will receive a spirit unless he asks for help.’ ‘According to almost all of the Church leaders I interviewed, missionaries should avoid contact with someone who is possessed if at all possible. Shirts warned, “No missionary . . . should seek or search for such a confrontation... . Trying to ‘show off” one’s power through the priesthood is not a legitimate exercise of this power. That is equivalent to handling poisonous snakes or drink- ing poison knowingly.” If avoidance is not possible, however, the missionary should cast out the evil spirit. Steuer identified obedience to missionary rules and moral Cleanliness as prerequisites. Knighton said that if Mormons “wear garments, keep covenants, and keep commandments, then no one needs to fear.” President Lemos and his wife related an incident reported by their nephew, who served a mission in Mandius, Brazil. A small group of missionaries, including the nephew, attempted to cast a spirit out from a possessed individual. In response to their actions, the spirit “laughed” at them and said that they had “no power.” Furthermore, the spirit ‘commenced to name past sins of the missionaries involved. A disobedient missionary, Elder Maika (pseud- ‘onym), worked with both Elder Saul Helis and Elder Jason Hipwell in the Campinas Mission in 1993. Heelis and Hipwell both attributed Maika’s “near-possession” to his continual disregard for missionary rules. They reported independent but 16 similar accounts of the spirit possession event: ‘Maika and Hipwell were in sacrament meeting when two other elders, Lynn Blanch and Heelis, were asked to come to the bishop's office. There they found a supernaturally strong, “possessed,” twenty-five-year-old woman being held down on a couch by five men. The woman “tried to bite” Heelis and began to “thrash around” when he put his hands on her head to bless her. Her eyes were clenched shut, and if they opened and focused on the missionaries, she would “get angry and thrash around.” Although several people commanded the spirit to leave, Heelis said that he “never got the feeling that it left.” He recalled that after being with the woman for a while, he began to get “light-headed” and felt “totally drained.” Eventual- ly, one of the men asked the others who among them had been sinning (and, by implication, impeding the expulsion process). Those present sent for Hipwell and Maika to help. Hipwell described the bishop's office as about twenty-five by ten feet. The possessed woman was being held on a couch, next to the door and two feet from the wall. Hipwell and Maika joined Blanch at the head of the couch to offer another blessing while the other three held her down. According to Hipwell, “Blanch was giving the blessing, I was to his right, and Maika to his left. We were kneeling down around her.” After the beginning of the blessing, Hipwell “noticed Blanch pushing over on Maika, He had slumped over on his (Blanch’s) shoulder” and it looked as if he “had all the strength drained from him . . . and, then all of a sudden I saw him fly into the wall.” From his standing position, Heelis described Maika’s backwards motion as a “quick thrust.” Hipwell stated, “The door was open about six inches. . . . Maika was thrown back into the door—slammed the door—and he fell, hit the wall and just laid there.” I questioned Hipwell further about how Maika was “thrown back.” Hipwell replied, “He didn’t do it himself, Definitely.” ‘According to Heelis, Maika lay on the floor “gasping for air” and, Hipwell added, “kind of struggling.” Heelis said, “His head and body twitched a little.” He was fighting and struggling on the floor for about 15-20 seconds as a member told him to fight it off. Within a minute, “he wascxying.” Soon after, he fell asleep in total exhaus- tion for three to five minutes, Helis and others held and comforted him. He was fine after he woke up. Heelis then walked around with him outside; Maika told him he did not remember anything of the event. Hipwell recorded in his journal that same night, “I was really worried about Maika, it was scary. . .. Maika passed out and got bounced off the wall. The lady didn’t push him but he got thrown. . .. He was breathing real weird and crying, it was evil. I hope I don’t come up against that again.” Approximately one week later, Maika confided to Hipwell that “he felt as if spirits were just trying to get into his body. He felt as if people were punching him all over, just trying to get into his body” (Hipwell, interview). In interviews, Elders Ryan Mansfield, Gary Bevin, Jason Hipwell, Trevor Hickey, Aron Han- sen, and Robert E. Davis reported additional experiences, each indicating a different, but malig- ‘ant, characteristic of the possessing spirits. Mansfield’s experience suggests that the pos- sessing spirits do not promote the well being of those whom they possess, Mansfield, a missionary in Campinas (1992-93), related that a member begged him and his companion to bless his sister who had become possessed. Some Macumba practitioners had been walking near the house, but the sister supposedly had never been involved with it and knew of no reason why they would curse her. Mansfield anointed the woman, and his companion sealed the anointing. In his journal, Mansfield later wrote: “Just then she began to shake and shake, more and more. I couldn't believe what I was seeing—I didn’t know what to expect.” As the woman continued to shake, they “called the spirit to leave,” but she “continued to wiggle around.” Then she “started saying things, "I want her body, her blood, I am going to kill her, I want her dead."” Fortunately, she slowly calmed down. The missionaries said a prayer and blessed the house. Mansfield wrote, “All I know now is that this kind of stuff is very real.” On a return visit a few days later, she appeared fine. Bevin related that while he was teaching the third missionary discussion, a woman stepped in the room. She appeared “white around the eyes and (had) saliva at her mouth.” When he stated or that the Mormon leaders were apostles of the Savior, she “laughed and laughed.” ‘The experience of Elder Davis, who served in Brasilia from 1989-91, indicated that a possessing spirit can change an individual's personality. Davis said when he was around people that are pos- sessed, “I get a real queasy, uneasy feeling. Kind of like evil has entered the room.” He related that he had four experiences with possessed individu- als. On one of these occasions, during a fast and testimony meeting at church, an investigator stood up, expressed happiness at attending, and started to bless everyone and everything. “Then all of a sudden, she paused, rolled her head back, and her eyes went up into her head,” Davis observed. Then she began banging on the pulpit and said things like, “I am the only true missionary from God.” ‘The missionaries, including Davis, quickly took her into another room. She was “violent and angry . -» disoriented . . . shaking a lot.” Then, sudden- ly, she “snapped out of it.” The missionaries attempted no exorcism before the spirit left on its own. Elder Hipwell had another experience even more shocking than the episode with Maika, which suggests that possessing spirits can be sensed before entering an individual's body. Hipwell and his companion, Elder Fonseca, were teaching Alexandre, an active lifelong participant in Macu- mba, and his wife when, “all of a sudden I just felt kind of like wind go past you. Not really ‘warm, but just a presence. Like somebody walked by you, but they just weren't there.” When Hip- well felt this, he looked to Alexandre and “saw him flinch and (the spirits] were in him.” Elder Fonseca, immediately putone hand on Alexandre’s, head and said, “Get out now,” and they left. ‘However, after things had calmed down and the missionaries once again began their church discus- sion, the “presence” returned, Hipwell reminisced, “This time I really felt it strongly. I mean, T knew they were coming before they were even in him- before I could see them in him. T got the impres- sion that the whole room just collapsed into him.” In his journal, Hipwell wrote of the incident, “I could definitely feel the presence of the [evil] spirits.” This time, Hipwell cast them out with his right hand raised and in the name of Christ. Bothmissionaries blessed Alexandre and also blessed his house that the spirits could not return. Hipwell was in the area for two months after this event, and Alexandre never reported any more problems with spirits. He continued with the missionary discussions and went to church. Elder Hickey, a missionary in Recife from 1993-95, related a personal experience that illus- trates the difficulty that a long-time practitioner of spirit possession can encounter in attempting to abandon the practice. Hickey began his story by confessing, “I never believed it completely” before this incident “because I'd never seen it.” One of Hickey's investigators, Romildo, had a history of spirit possession that Hickey compared to “a drug addiction.” Romildo, who attended a spiritist cult whose members presumably only received “good” spirits, told Hickey that “he received [spirits] quite easily” and that “he enjoyed it.” Eventually, however, Romildo believed that he “received the ‘Caio" (the hound or devil). Romildo told Hickey that he could remember what the spirits said while they possessed his body. Hickey and his companion did not see any of these possessions during the time they were teaching him; but Romildo claimed that the “Co” told him that he would stop Romildo from being baptized. Furthermore, the possessing spirits at the cult that Romildo used to attend allegedly told cult members (Romildo’s sister included) that Romildo should not see the Mormons, because “the Mor- ‘mons have the power to expulse the evil spirits.” Hickey, still skeptical, did not know whether to believe in Romildo’s supposed spirit possessions or not. On the day of Romildo’s baptism, as Hickey ‘and Romildo’s family walked dowa the corridor to the baptismal room, Romildo’s sister suddenly told Hickey, “Here they come.” Hickey immediately looked at Romildo. “His face was twisted and contorted; he just grimaced. . . . I just felt this cold wave rush over me.” Romildo tried to fight it off while those officiating quickly began the service. When Romildo entered the water he became “stiff as a board” and “was stiff the whole time” as he was immersed. When Hickey placed his hands on Romildo’s head to confer the gift of the Holy Ghost, Romildo “started going into 8 convulsions. I had to grab onto his head.” In the course of the blessing, Romildo became calm. At the end of the service, the missionaries, the bishop, and a high councilor took him to the bishop's office and talked to him about the posses- sion, Romildo said “he did not want the demons to possess him anymore.” So they gave him another blessing. Hickey said, “As soon as we started doing this, he started to shake and move around and jump up.” The high councilor literally “grabbed onto [Romildo’s} head with both arms” and shouted, “In the name of Jesus Christ, I command you to leave.” As soon as he said that, [Romildo] calmed down.” Then the high counselor sealed Romildo's spirit to his body by the power ofthe priesthood. Afterward, Romildo, crying with relief, said the spirits left—he claimed, “They were ripped out of my body.” The bishop assured Romildo that the spirits would not come back as Jong as Romildo did not want them to and if he obeyed God's commandments and his baptismal covenant. Nevertheless, when Hickey and his companion visited Romildo the next day, Romildo confessed that he “couldn't fight it” and ended up receiving spirits again. Hickey was not surprised; he had always thought Romildo was a little “weak.” Stil, he understood how difficult it is for one heavily involved with spirit possession to give it up. President Lemos reinforced the same point by relating an incident reported to him by Elder Moura, a missionary who served under him in ‘Campinas. A spiritist whom Moura taught wanted to stop being possessed and wanted to be baptized but did not have enough will to give it up. During ‘one missionary lesson, the spirit possessed the man and said, “Look, [the man’s body] is mine. You will not baptize this person.” Moura tried to cast out the spirit, but it would always come back. Lemos observed that you cannot expel 2 demon permanently if the person wants it back, Elder Hansen, a missionary in Recife from 1993-95, reported an experience showing how possessing spirits can converse with people. A twenty-eight-year-old woman had broken up with her boyfriend and had been “cursed” by relatives of his new girlfriend. The curses apparently result- ed in spirit possession, Her family had unsuccess-fullly taken her to “all kinds of shrinks, all kinds of doctors, all kinds of priests, to get rid of the spirits.” During episodes of possession, “she'd just Tun around. She coulda’t stop running around. ‘She'd run into walls, and she'd scream.” The spirit would enter her for thirty seconds then leave, Afterward, she could not remember what hap- pened. The first time they talked to her in her own home, she became possessed four or five times inside half an hour. After witnessing her problem for the first time, the missionaries brought the stake mission leader to bless the home. First, the three of them knelt for prayer alone behind closed doors. “Right when we said the prayer, we felt the spirit—the evil spirit—enter into the house... . We were all Kneeling down and it pushed us all up.” The girl ‘was outside the room, but suddenly she “started pounding on the door.” They let her in and calmed ber down. After a while she “started shaking again” and “started talking in the voice of a man. (She had also spoken in the voice of a little child.) ‘They “tried to ask questions of the girl, but the spirit talked to us” instead. “It said how it had been doing this for eleven months and how it only had one more month and it would be doing it for a year.” Also, it said that he “could only stay for @ Certain amount of time.” In reaction to the spirit’s presence, Hansen's companion raised his right arm and commanded the spirit to leave, but “it Laughed at him” and cried, “You don’t have authority!” Awestruck and curious, Hansen and his friends ‘sat down and continued to converse with the spirit. In a close fit with LDS theology, the spirit repeat- edly expressed a desire for a body and “talked about how it liked to get into a person’s body to smoke cigarettes [and] to drink” and “to do sexual acts.” Also, “it talked about the war in heaven. It said about how it was there and remembered us and remembered that God's side wasn’t right so that’s why he didn’t pick it.” It never mentioned Satan but had “picked that side because I thought it was better. . . . It was better because we can inberit people's bodies.” Hansen stated that the spirit “tied to break down our faith... so we wouldn't believe in ourselves—our authority and mission—anymore.” 19 It said things like “Christ did not exist. . . and there was no true Church.” The missionaries would order, “Yow have to leave!,” and it would reply, “No, I like it, I'm not going to leave!” or it would leave for only a few seconds. Eventually, however, it left. ‘Another day Hansen took the young woman to church and she lasted all but the last ten minutes ‘without becoming “possessed.” The stake president expelled the spirit and sealed her spirit to her body. “She was immediately fine” but was repos- sessed ten minutes later on the way home. Hansen thought she must be allowing the spirit to possess her even though she denied wanting “this stuff to happen.” Other members told them to give up trying because she was not strong-willed enough to fight off the spirits. Hansen felt that her depres- sion also contributed to her being possessed. ‘After hearing about the incident, Hansen's mission president instructed him to “‘send the bishop or somebody else” to deal with it and ordered him to have no more conversations with spirits. Neither Hansen nor his companion knew they weren't supposed to get engaged in a conver- sation, “But it was interesting so we sat down, and ‘we talked to it.” Elder Davis met a girl whose parents had “con- secrated her soul to be a medium for spirits to ‘come to this world and visit people.” Later the girl left her parents and joined the Church but contin- ued to experience possession when she became depressed. Davis saw her “become possessed” four times, tried each time to expel the spirits, but never succeeded. When possessed, the girl would “thrash around, bite herself, and bite people. Her eyes would roll up, and she would stop and she would pant and clench her teeth really tight.” Davis said, “The bishop, the missionaries, all the Priesthood leaders combined could not cast out this spirit.” Only the former bishop, Miguel, was successful. Miguel told Davis that “literally hundreds of spirits are inhabiting this girl’s body.” While others attempted to expel the demons, she asked in a baby-like voice, “Why did you do that? You shouldn't do that to us.” Some spirits would leave at each attempted exorcism but the “most violent and vile of the spirits” would resist the attempt.Davis remembers once when a number of people were “holding her, trying to keep her from thrash- ing around.” Miguel entered, and he saw a look on her face “almost like fear.” Miguel calmly told her to stand up. When she obeyed, he put his arms around her and said the spirits had to leave right now. She responded, “Now?” He replied, “Yes, now.” “Then,” Davis continued, “all of a sudden she started to cough . . . almost a vomit-ype thing” and was back to normal. She cried with relief, “Oh Bispo Miguel, thank goodness you got here, Miguel advised Davis to get the girl to relax and respond to questions before he ordered the spirits to leave. Evidently, Davis established a significant relationship with the girl because, on another occasion when she “became possessed,” she relaxed somewhat and, according to Davis, an- swered some of his questions. When Davis briefly left her with others to hold her down so he could talk to the bishop on the other side of the room, he heard her shout “an eerie screech of his name—Daaaviiissss!” Davis reported, “I walked over there, and I said what do you want and {the spirit] spoke to me in English and it said, ‘Make them stop.” Davis and the spirit briefly exchanged short sentences in English as the Brazilian mem- bers and missionaries looked at the two with wonder, The girl knew no English, but “it was speaking English to me, and I was speaking English to it... . Her pronunciation was near perfect... not like a Brazilian.” In short, these accounts indicate that an indivi- dual can be possessed if he/she is disobedient (regardless of desire), sense the spirit’s presence before the possession, become addicted to spirit possession, converse with a spirit, and be conse- crated for possession. Furthermore, the experiences of all the missionaries with whom I spoke indicate that spirit possession is something real and unde- sirable. However, the missionaries are curious about these events, and as seen from the accounts ‘mentioned, they face the possibility of confronting possessing spirits. Griff Johnson, a missionary in Recife from 1991-93, admitted that all of the missionaries were curious and that he “remem- bered talking about Macumba a lot with other missionaries.” 80 EE However, as noted in almost every account, the missionary is not powerless in confronting the spirit. The missionaries, mission presidents, and other leaders used a variety of exorcism proce- dures, Steuer instructed his missionaries to cast out the spirit by the “usual priesthood sign.” Shirts recalled that on one occasion missionaries were “unsuccessful at first in casting out the evil spir- it(s), but their district leader asked the elders there to fast and pray. Then the group of elders visited the home together and cast out the spirit success- fully.” As Hickey reported, a Brazilian stake president exorcised an individual in two steps—first casting out the spirit and then sealing the person's own spirit to her body. Heelis at- tempted exorcism by praying over the possessed with his hands on the affected’s head. Fonseca put one hand on the possessed man’s head and said, “Get out, now!” Bispo Miguel simply told the spirit to go and it went, All methods appeared “to work,” to a greater or lesser extent. In addition to direct attempts to cast out spirits through command or prayer, other actions may affect the possessing spirits. On one occasion, Elder Davis found that when they showed the picture of Christ in their flip chart to the “pos- sessed” girl, she would “pant, . . . grip things harder,” and look “like she was getting mad.” When a middle-aged woman, while presumably possessed, was trying to attack me, I demanded that she look to her left at the picture of Christ, which my companion held. She obeyed and turned her head. Immediately upon focusing on the picture, she clenched her eyes shut and violently shook her head in disgust. Singing hymns may also influence a possessed individual. Elder Davis, the only missionary I know who used this tech- nique, said, “It wouldn't get rid of the spirits,” but “it would calm her down and make her so she would be panting heavily . . . but she wouldn't thrash around as much." CONCLUSION ‘These missionaries, Mormon Church leaders, and Umbandists believe that spirit possession is a reality. My sample of Mormon “witnesses” to spirit possession is small; but together with the knowledge of the widespread practice of posses-sion in religions like Umbanda, the possibility increases that supernatural spirit possessions occur. ‘Two components contribute to the phenomenon among Mormon missionaries: they are theological- ly predisposed to believe in spirit possession, and many Brazilians consider spirit possession an essential element in their religious practices. ‘Therefore, these missionary encounters with possessing spirits in Brazil are a possibility. However, the mission presidents I surveyed unani- mously indicated that missionaries should never study about or seek after an experience of spirit possession, obviously for reasons ranging from the spirit’s believed evil nature to the possibility of addiction, Brigham Young suggested that an awareness of spirit possession may serve at least one positive end: the “Lord has suffered” the devil and his spirits to communicate to people on the earth to “make [humans] believe in revelation” (JD 7:20). ‘The experiences documented in this paper indicate that interaction with the supernatural exists—or, at least, something “unnatural” can possess physical ADAM R. NEBEKER is currently a second-year medical student at the University of Utah and employed as a sheep rincher at Bear Lake, Idabo. He wrote this paper while pursuing a B.A. degree in history at Brigham Young University in 1996 for a class taught by Steve Epperson. ‘This presentation is drawn from a longer work that includes additional discussions, sources,a sample question- aire for Brazilian mission presidents, and the questions used in missionary interviews. WORKS CITED Note: All interview audiocassettes and notes are in my possession, ‘Anderson, Nevin. Missionary in Fortaleza Mission, 1991— 93. Interviewed March 1996. ‘Amold, Orson P. President, Brazilian South Mission, 1970-73. Telephone interview. March 1996. Bangerter, Cory W. President, Rio de Janeiro, 1984-87. Survey response, April 1996. Bastide, Roger. The African Religions of Brazil: Toward a Sociology ofthe Interpenetration of Civilizations. Trans. Helen Sebba. Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1978. Bevin, Gary. Missionary in Ribero Preto Mission, 199193. ‘Telephone interview. March 1996. 81 Bramly, Serge. Macumba: The Teachings of Maria-José, ‘Mother of the Gods. New York: Avon Books, 1977. “Brother Jones.” Pseudonym. Released General Authority. Interviewed March 1996. Burton, Alma P., comp. Discourses of the Prophet Joseph ‘Smith, Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Co., 1977. Burton, Alma P., comp. Doctrines from the Prophets: Choice Selections from Latter-day Leaders. Salt Lake City: Bookcraft Inc., 1970. Cannon, George Q. "Ecitorial Thoughts.” Juvenile Instruc- for. & (8 Oct. 1869): 164. Clark, James R., ed. Messages of the First Presidency of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saini, 6 vols. Salt Lake City: Bookcraf,Inc., 1965-75. Collier, Fred C., ed. The Teachings of President Brigham Young. 3 vols. Salt Lake City: Collier's Publishing Co., 1987. Cowley, D. D. President, in Brazil. Telephone interview. March 1996. Davis, Robert E. Missionary in Brazilia Mission, 1989-91, Interviewed March 1996. Drectsel, LeRoy A. President, Séo Paulo North Mission, 1972-75, and President, Recife Mission, 1986-87. Survey response. March 1996. Edmonds, John W. Letters and Tracts on Spiritualism. Ed. ‘I. Burns. London: J. Burns, Progressive Library and Spiritual Institution, 1874. Hansen, Aron. Missionary in Recife Mission, 1993-95. Interviewed February 1996. Heelis, Saul. Missionary in Campinas Mission, 1991-93. “Telephone interview. March 1996. Hess, David J. Spirits and Scientists: Ideology, Spiritism, ‘and Brazilian Culture. Pennsylvania: The Pennsylvania, State University Press, 1991 Hickey, Trevor. Missionary in Recife Mission, 1993-95. Interviewed February 1996. Via, J. Arthur. Spiritwalism: Its History, Phenomena and Doctrine. New York: George H. Doran Company, 1919. Hipwell, Jason. Missionary in Campinas Mission, 1993-95. Diary entries in Sto Paulo, Brazil: June 6, 1993 and January 31, 1995. — Missionary in Campinas Mission, 1993-95, Interviewed March 1996. Jeason, Andrew, ed. The Historical Record: A Monthly Periodical. Church Encyclopedia Book 1. Vols. 5-8, Salt Lake City: Andrew Jenson, 1889. Jessce, Dean C., ed. The Papers of Joseph Smith. Vol. 1. Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Company, 1989. Johnson, Griff. Missionary in Recife Mission, 1991-93. Interviewed February 1996. Johnson, Hal R. President in Rio de Janeiro, 1968-71. Telephone interview. March 1996. Knighton, Lenis. President in Rio de Janeiro, 1987-90. ‘Telephone interview. March 1996,Langguth, A. J. Macumba: White and Black Magic in Brazil. New York: Harper & Row, 1975. Language Training Mission of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Brazilian Culture Notes. Provo, UT: Brigham Young University Publications, 1973. Lemos, Helington. President, Campinas Mission, 1992-95. Interviewed Salt Lake City, March 1996. ‘Mansfield, Ryan. Missionary in Campinas Mission, 1992- 93. Diary entries in Campinas, Brazil: May 11, 15, 1993. —. Missionary in Campinas Mission, 1992-93. Interviewed March 1996. McConkie, Bruce R. Mormon Doctrine. Salt Lake City: Bookeraft, Inc., 1958. Nelson, N.L. "The Veil: ts Use and Abuse.” Improvement Era 32 (March 1929):. 4, 7. Pressel, Esther. Case Studies in Spirit Possession: Negative ‘Spirit Possession in Experienced Brazilian Umbanda Spirit Mediums: Umbanda Background, Beliefs and Rituals, Eds. Vincent Crapanzano and Vivian Garrison. New York: John Wiley & Sons, 1977. Riddle, Chauncey C. “Devils.” Encyclopedia of Mormon. ism, 4 vols, New York: Macmillan Publishing Compa- ny, 1991. 1379-82, Shirts, Max L. President, Rio de Janeiro Mission, 1978. 1981. Survey response. February 1996. ‘Smith, Joseph F. September 30, Journal of Discourses, 26 ‘vols. (London and Liverpool: LDS Booksellers Depot, 1855-86). Steuer, Robert R. President, Sio Paulo North Missioa, 1984-87, Survey response. March 1996. Talmage, James E. A Study of the Articles of Faith: Being ‘a Consideration of the Principal Doctrines of the (Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Co., 1984. —. Jesus the Christ: A Study of the Messiah and His ‘Mission According to Holy Scriptures both Ancient and ‘Modern. Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Company, 1990. ‘Thomas, Jason. Missionary in Campines Mission, 1992-94 ‘Telephone interview. February 1996 Williams, Paul V. A. Primitive Religion and Healing: A Study of Folk Medicine in North-East Brazil. Totawe, NJ: DS. Brewer and Rowman and Litlefield, 1979. 82PERSONAL. ION: 1 Taught People—Or Should Have Marden ‘My son Harlow gave me the first part of my title: “I Taught People.” He told me I had said that ‘when someone asked me what I taught. I don't re- ‘member the incident at all, But I like the title, even with my qualifying half of it: “Or Should Have.” ‘That part suggests how far I now see myself as having fallen short, how far I was from an ideal teacher. But the whole title needs qualifying even more, Looking back in any honesty, I have to say that I began teaching not for the love of people at all but for the love of literature and love of words. ‘And overarching these: a love affair with the idea of teaching itself, growing out of a series of great teachers I had been fortunate enough to have had. ‘That leaves teaching people at best a distant third. At least at the beginning. ‘When I look at what it takes to be hired today, T know I was lucky to be teaching at all. I could ‘never have made it onto the faculty in the last ten years. And if I had, I wouldn’t have lasted even five years, Back then, though, there was such demand, so many new students, that any of us could get a teaching assistantship if we wanted to work for an M.A. at BYU. Our small home in Provo also tied us to the ¥. Besides, I was simply too enamored of P. A. Christensen, Karl Young, and others to have any serious thoughts of going elsewhere. Even with any qualifying about teaching people, however, I must admit that when I reminisce about teaching it is the students, individually and as classes, that I remember most vividly and with the greatest pleasure, In one of the first classes I taught as a T.A. was a tiny girl from the Uintah Basin, Mary Calder. “These were classes from the bottom quartile of the entering freshmen, hence badly in need of solid teaching. Mary was hardly a brilliant girl, But 1 don’t think it was her petite prettiness that makes me remember het. She simply needed a lot of help. And in spite of those forty students in each class, I was somehow able to help her. 1 have J. Clark other memories of those classes with the lowest quartile, but none that focuses on individual stu- dents. I was distressed that so many of them needed the kind of help that almost none of us ‘TAs were able to furnish. I'm not sure the regular faculty were either, especially the new people. ‘Maybe what saved us was that we used far more literature than most frosh composition classes have today. I was surprised to learn very carly that most of the young faculty had divided the course into literary types plus formal grammar study and then writing, using the old College Omnibus as a literature text and The Harbrace Handbook as a grammar and guide. We used it to make formal units of grammar study. And our exams were generally objective—long pages of false/truc, multiple choice, matching—so that our grades could be “objective.” Those plus grades on themes made most of the final grade. We required only three or four themes per quarter; maybe that's all we could manage, given the student load. But the focus on subject matter, and on the objective exams, says to me that we were hardly thinking of ourselves as teaching people. ‘The same approach continued after I was hired full time. That hiring is itself a memory worth sharing. As soon as I could see the end of the M.A. quest, I started thinking Ph.D. I sent out several feelers, most of them receiving positive response. The University of Hlinois sent a tempt- ing offer: I would teach three sections of twenty- five freshman students and take one five-hour class each quarter, with the summer quarter given wholly to course work and individual study. The stipend would be $2,800 per year. I took the offer to Dr. Christensen. We'd not even talked about a faculty position for me, but he looked at it and then said, “I think we can do better than that.” ‘That's how I joined the faculty. It’s also how I gave up three classes of composition with twenty- five students each quarter for four classes of nearly forty students per class. When the Y's contract came, it was for $2,850 per year. P. A. 83had been right. He had also bore out his reputa- tion as a very liberal thinker/scholar/teacher but a very conservative administrator. But I was too overcome by the idea of actually Joining the BYU faculty to fret very much or very long. Sometime in the fourth or fifth year I man- aged to ask him about the heavy, unbroken com- position load, and he agreed that it was inhumane, He managed to scrape up and add a two-hour section in “American Masterpieces” to my four classes. The next year he did cut out one composi- tion section. (I don’t want to suggest that he was a tyrant in his conservative approach. I continued to see him as an ultimate hero, an ideal humanist, who just wasn't an ideal administrator. Toward him, T came only too close to hero worship for this literary godfather.) Like most students, though, I came to react against much of what he stood for in literature. P. A. Ioved literature (with a rather stern love) and communicated that love to students. His approach combined historical exploration and subjective appreciation, a sharing of the joys he found there. Much of the time he simply read aloud to us, with a marvelously modulated and controlled voice, pausing to comment on important words or philo- sophical ideas. He was nearly always most inter- ested in eliciting from us an emotional and intel- lectual response to what we were reading. His course in literary criticism focused more on Plato and Longinus than on Aristotle and Horace, with corresponding emphases down through the centu- ries, Tremember with some fondness the day when P. ‘A. announced in a faculty meeting that a new movement was getting much attention in literary circles and that the faculty needed a series of meetings to find out what it was all about. The movement: The New Criticism. I suspect now that ‘what he really wanted was to give us new faculty a chance to show what we could do. I was one of the first, maybe the first, and talked about Brooks and Warren, with very little understanding of what T was saying. It must not have been too bad: one of the established faculty told me later that that talk was something of a rite of passage, after which I was finally accepted as a bona fide mem- ber of the faculty. During the summers of those first six years, I had managed to take courses at the University of Utah and University of Washington, where Robert Heilman had taken over a department torn by internal dissension and had brought Amold Stein to the school, Both were leaders in the New Criticism popularized by the Brooks and Warren Understanding . . . texts. Heilman was a distinc- tive analyst of the internal workings of novels and shorter fiction. Stein was a Milton scholar whose book on Paradise Lost, a very careful exploration of internal workings, had already made a splash in the critical world. I became a devotee of both, with courses in Milton, literary criticism, and the European novel from Stein and courses in fiction from Heilman, Stein also directed my doctoral thesis on Robert Penn Warren's novels—mostly because Stein had taught with and honored War- rea, So I came back from UW a dedicated New Critic but found literature almost totally displaced from our composition classes. Leonard Rice had completed a doctorate at UW about the time I began mine and had come under the influence of Porter Perrin—maybe the most influential in the ‘movement to replace “correctness” with “appropri- ateness” in language studies, to replace “rules” with description of how effective users of the language really used it. Leonard took over the freshman composition program and almost totally replaced literature with language study and writ- ing, ‘That became part of my reeducation in teaching composition. I relearned faster than most of the older teachers, partly because I had sat in on Perrin’s basic class at UW and liked the approach. ‘The struggle between the two approaches contin- ues even today, though appropriateness won out years ago. I still get anonymous notes “correcting” ‘some of my usage in my newspaper column. But back to those students I taught. Even at UW I had already begun moving from being more effective with weaker students to being more effective with better ones. It may have been an inevitable move, given my fascination with literary criticism and with the more abstruse writers and works. Regardless, I can go down almost any roster of the BYU English faculty since the ‘50sand find that some of my best have become some of the best of teachers. But I begin with my own family. Bess sat through many of my classes but never registered for one. She opted for psychology but sald she learned as much from reading literature as from psychology texts. Diane, our oldest, took classes from Dad. She graduated with an English teaching major and only one grade below B-. Her Dad knows nothing about it. Dennis and Harlow both graduated in English and went on to graduate school elsewhere. Dennis did fine work but wasn’t nearly so disciplined as the young lady he met in one of those classes and eventually married: Valerie Godfrey, one of my sheerly brilliant students. She graduated with a 3.99 GPA. (Guess ‘who turned in an A- for her!) Harlow was even less disciplined than Dennis, I fear I did him a disservice by tolerating late work. Sherri graduated in French, rather than face the English Depart- ment. Kevin's sixth-grade teacher suggested English, but he became an engineer. Krista took one class from Dad, then left the Y to become an outstanding physical therapist. She now has to come and see us three or four times a year to whip Dad’s and Mom's backs back into shape. Ambigu- ous results, But I'm happy to have been part of their formal education, ‘Three who never made it to the Y faculty, our first, of very few, Ph.D. graduates: Agda Harlow, Greg Larkin, and Clifton Holt Jolley. Thad worked more or less closely with all three. Agda didn't really want to be on the faculty. But Greg and Clifton did, very badly. Greg became department chairman at BYU-Hawaii and a strong builder of their program; Clifton got out of teaching altogeth- er, Both would have been much stronger than some of the people we were getting. I worked hard to get exceptions to the strict rules about hiring back our own Ph.D.s, rules I had helped put in place, but without success. Scott Samuelson, among many former students at Ricks, became department chairman and another strong builder of faculty and programs. On the Y faculty through the years, there are just too many, but I have to mention a few I have stayed close to: Marilyn Arnold, who was too good a teacher so they finally took her completely 85 {nto administration; Elouise Bell, she of the sharp ‘wit and wonderful mind; Darwin Hayes, not large but deep as Bear Lake; George Bennion, of the drier wit but probing mind; Allie Howe, now tied to an oxygen canister, but always tied to ideas and students; Karen Lynn and Karen Brotherson, both brilliant and effective as students and teachers and both dear friends; Steven Walker, tied to all that's ‘200d in the university; Bert Wilson, my wonderful folksy friend and promoter of Mormon folk litera~ ture. And too many others even to name—I love you all. ‘And if I look around us here and around the halls at the Sunstone Symposium I realize how im- possible the naming task: somewhere close to a third of the people here and at Sunstone and generally publishing in Mormon lit, 1 would guess, have been my students and friends: Lavina Fielding Anderson, Karen Maloney, Don Marshall, Claudia L. Bushman, Maureen Ursenbach Beecher, Doug Thayer, Marilyn Brown, Eileen Gibbons Kump, Kay Moon, Ed Geary, Levi and Althea Peterson, John S. Harris, Bruce W. Jorgensen, Mary Lythgoe Bradford, John Bennion, Benson Y. Parkinson, Pauline Mortensen, Dennis, Harlow. I'd better quit. I'm repeating myself and leaving dozens out. I’m not sure about even some of these. ‘And I'd like to claim you all, Just a couple more, not tied so tightly to our work here: My cowboy friend from Oak City, Vance Finlayson, with the western twang and wit. ‘Together we managed to nurse him to a master’s in English and we have been friends ever since. I think—and hope—be's doing some writing now, between roundups of cattle and children. He's a wonderful storyteller and could have much to offer this group. And one you'll all know: Jeffrey R. Holland, who reminds me every time he sees me that I was the first teacher he faced at BYU, in an 8:00 am. class, and who at the same time folds me in that wondrous bear hug. It's a marvelous privilege to reminisce about teaching such people. I find it terribly difficult to resist the Olympian overweening pride that infects, such reminiscing. I'm proud of you and your accomplishments. I don't think you're in much danger of hubris, though. As I've told many of you, I take full credit for everything any of mystudents accomplish, so you have little left to be overly proud about. I don’t charge anything for lifting that burden from you. I choose to ignore the obvious in all this: All of you had other and better teachers. And you are all among my best students. Except that memory blots most of them out, I could make an even longer list of my failures. That's one of the terrible dilemmas in such reminiscing: Any and all of you would have made it without me; and I did little to help those who had the greatest need of help. I regret that deeply—but more in retrospect, I fear, than when it was happening. But, yes, I taught people. From the beginning, though, it’s been a false dichotomy. One has to teach people something, if only how to go about learning for themselves—maybe the most impor- tant something one can teach or learn, One has to have subject matter. You were people responding to subject matter: to literature (especially important for this group). And what glorious matter we had! Just “the best that has been thought and said in the world,” in Matthew Amold’s words, Even in writing classes or introduction to literature classes, some of the best had been pulled out into antholo- gies. All the way from Genesis to Shakespeare to T. S. Eliot to current writers: there it is for us to love and share. Mostly we worked with the stan- dard things. But occasionally I'd find something a bit off the usual, like Henry Roth's great sleeper, Call It Sleep. Along the way I worked with some of Chaucer, more of Shakespeare and Milton, quite a bit of the romantics, and a great deal of the ‘twentieth century, especially American. No wonder students who found real sustenance in this could tie some of it to their teacher. For a few wondrous years I even taught courses in the European novel, so that such big master- pieces as Don Quixote, War and Peace, Crime and Punishment, The Brothers Karamazov, The Magic Mountain, The Castle, and many others became part of the feast. It was a favorite course for me and many of my students, but it ended when Mac Blanche came back with a Ph.D, and specialty in just such things. I yielded to her—a bit ungra- ciously. ‘So we need a teacher, people to teach, and the literature, but we also need some approach to that 86 literature. We can simply read it to students and revel with them in what we are teaching. This on one end, Or we can use the literature to demon- strate some historical or social or economic or literary theory, on the other end, This list keeps growing in the contemporary world: formalism, archetypal, rhetorical (associated primarily with ‘Wayne Booth, one of BYU's most distinguished graduates), psychoanalytical, structuralism and post-structuralism, feminism, and on to even more exotic things. This is where my work in criticism comes in. If UW turned me into a dedicated formalist, it also got me to where I could teach our courses in literary criticism, courses in which I nearly always began with the I. A. Richards device of giving students a poem without any context and asked them to write a critique of it. I still know of no other device quite so shocking—and so hard on the student ego—as this being forced to come to terms with a poem without context, just the poem itself. But by the end of the course we had pretty much covered the range of possibilities. Well, we could go on with such exploration almost indefinitely. The thousands of books and journals of criticism so testify. They also testify to the complexity of the teaching process. And one could drown in all that theory and complexity. I escape such problems with a metaphor for teach- ing that became the center of critical thinking for nearly all New Critics: the metaphor of the poem as a organism, I like the word organic to describe the teaching process, just as I like and use it to describe a poem. We may be able to subdivide some of the process, but only for analysis. Teach- er, student, work, context (of many kinds), and everything else that goes into that process all have to work together if we are to get effective teach- ing. T wish I could tell you how to make yours organic, I certainly don’t know how I did—if T did. The only immediate advice I can offer is to conceive the process as broadly as you can and to do so with that organic metaphor in mind. It might help at least to define what you are after. But I certainly did not consciously do so. If any of mine was effective for you, it was because you and I were both deeply involved with significant literature in an atmosphere that encouraged explo-ration as well as appreciation. I can only thank you for the privilege of working with you. It has ‘certainly made my professional and personal life far richer that I could have hoped for when I left Morgan to study at BYU and when I was rather grudgingly accepted by the English faculty. I wouldn't want any of you to come into class ten minutes late, pause to fill your pipe and light it, take a few puffs, then a bit disdainfully ask, “Well, has anyone got anything to say?” I'm describing Amold Stein, one of the most effective teachers I have known, especially for graduate students. But if I were starting over now, I would certainly be thinking of that organic metaphor. Effective teaching, like a good poem, simply (and complexly) has to be an organic activity. But, like me, you'll remember your students longest. You're teaching people. MARDEN CLARK, after retiring in 1981 as a Professor of English from Brigham Young University, continued gardening, walking, and writing (poetry, an autobiography. column, “Matter Unorganized,” for the religion section of the Provo Daily Herald and essays) and, with his wife, Bess Séderborg Clark, taught English at Qingdao Universi- ty in 1989-90, early in the Kennedy Center's program in China. Opening the Door: A Personal Reflection on Sunstone John Sillito ‘Whenever I think of Sunstone, the image that first comes to mind is of the office in the Bennett building on West First South in Salt Lake. You entered from the street into a small vestibule and then immediately encountered a long flight of stairs. At the top of the stairs, if you turned left, you came to the main office and, farther down the hall, to the Coke machine, and then to Peggy Fletcher's office. If you tumed right you came to a large room where, at various times, Susan Staker, Scott Dunn, Nicole Hoffman, Elbert Peck, and I had our desks, T guess this image is still so powerful to me ‘more than a decade after I have had any official connection—because those stairs led to a whole new place for me within Mormonism. For so many years Sunstone (magazine, review, and symposium) represented my main Mormon com- munity, It gave me a sense of identity, a base of operations, a circle of friends, and, at times, a forum. ‘Additionally, through an essay in the Sunstone Review, 1 was first introduced to the writings of ‘Thomas Merton.’ In the last few years I have read. extensively on the life and work of this remarkable Catholic monk, mystic, and spiritual teacher, Somewhere Merton observed that we expect life to 87 consist of continuity, when in fact it is mostly burned bridges. “Life,” he quipped, “is a continu- ity of burned bridges!” While Merton is right, at the same time I think life is also a continuity of ever-opening doors. For me, Sunstone opened doors. First it opened the door to the whole world of intellectual ferment that swept Mormonism during the 1970s and 1980s. Ironically, it eventual- ly opened another door allowing me to make an important, and necessary, departure from the security of that community. ‘What initially brought me to Sunstone was one of those choices we make but don’t recognize its significance until later. T was in the Church Histor- ical Department, and Bill Slaughter and I were headed to lunch in the cafeteria. (['Il have more to say about those lunches.) I told Bill, who was on the editorial board of Sunstone (indeed, several Church employees were associated with the maga- zine), that I would really like to become involved, and thought I could make a contribution as book review editor. Sometime later he introduced me to Scott Kenney—in the archives search room, as I recall—and not too tong after that, I was on board. ‘Think of all these events taking place within the belly of the beast—so to speak! ‘These were heady times! Those of us involvedwith the magazine (and I am sure the people at Dialogue had similar feclings at a slightly earlier time) felt as if we were on the threshold of the dawning of a new era in the intellectual life of Mormonism. For me, recalling my Sunstone days, along with my employment at the Historical Department during the “Arrington Spring,” brings back a jumble of memories. I mentioned the Church Office Building cafeteria where each noon saw a round lunch table of employees, researchers, and interested spectators sharing what they had discovered, what they had processed, what they were writing. One day I encountered Maureen Ursenbach Beecher coming out of the depart- ment’s second floor conference room, which was crowded with people. “What’s going on in there?” I asked. Maureen replied, “It’s a meeting of the literati of the Church.” It was the founding meet- ing of the Association for Mormon Letters. ‘There was intellectual ferment in the Sunstone office as well. We also had innumerable bull sessions (maybe we should have been working on getting the magazine out on time) where the latest horror story, faith-promoting rumor, spiritual insight, or personal revelation (with a small “r”) would be shared. Those were heady times! The times of the International Women’s Year, the Equal Rights Amendment, Sonia Johnson, Mark Hofmann’s first “discoveries,” and so much more. I do not intend this essay to provide a detailed assessment of the history and importance of ‘Sunstone, Someone far better equipped than 1 needs to do just that. Rather, I would like to share some of the ways I tried, in the pages of the ‘magazine, and later the review, to take part in that ferment. ‘After I became book review editor in 1978, my main contribution to the magazine was finding good reviewers, We cast our net widely, and I was able to bring in a number of writers who were new to the Mormon community, At one point one of the editors asked if knew anyone who wasn’t fa socialist! (1 did and I do!) After the Sunstone Review began, my “beat” was politics, Sonia Johnson, Eldridge Cleaver, and Mormons in baseball. Through Sunstone, 1 was able to introduce 88 Catholic Worker founder Dorothy Day to many readers in an article written after her death in 1980, Although Day's life and death went largely unnoticed by the LDS community, there was much, I believed, about her experience as a Catho- lic convert with which Mormons could identify: “Mormons understand the cost of embracing a faith and losing the love and respect of friends and family in the process; recognize . . . that what we do in this life matters, that we are accountable for our actions, as well as our inaction, and that we have an obligation to use our time on earth wisely and mercifully” (63). I quoted Day: ‘We are not expecting a utopia here on this earth, but God meant things to be much easier than we have made them. A man has a natural right to food, clothing and shelter. A certain amount of goods is necessary to lead 1 good life. A family needs work as well as bread. . . . ‘We must keep repeating these things. Eternal life begins now. (63) Other articles stand out in my memory. One was an interview Bill Slaughter and I did with Wayne Owens, At the time Owens was out of public office, though he had served one term in the U.S. House of Representatives and would return to that body in 1986. In the interview Owens reflected on the growing strength of the Republican Party in Utah and the challenge that situation presented to Mormon Democrats. One of the most interesting parts concerned the public reaction to Owens’s call as president of the Montreal Canada Mission from 1975-78: TT guess I got 500 letters when my “call” was announced, and maybe 350 of them said “Great Scott, I didn't know you were a Mormon.” I knew that the Utah people were generally unaware of my Church background, In September of 1974 ((wo ‘months before election day in my Senate campaign) 4 poll indicated that something like seventy percent fof the Utah people thought I was noa-Mormon. T suppose that's because I was a member of the Demo- cratic party, called a “Uber,” and because of my close relationship with Ted Kennedy, Robert Red- ford, and John Denver, .. . I dida’t use my Church credeatial, although I had already served a three-year mission to France and had held many Church posi- tions. I just felt it wasn’t proper, that it was an abuseof the Church. (59) ‘Another memorable interview was one Susan Staker and 1 did with Orrin Hatch, Both of us were determined to be tough on the controversial conservative and pin him down on several of histo us—right-wing stands. At one point, one of his aides, who kept looking at his watch, told Hatch he would have to cut the interview short because Fred Graham of CBS News was on deadline and needed to talk to him immediately “Tell Fred I am talking with my friends and he'll just have to wait.” From then on Susan and 1 coulda’t lob the softballs fast enough! We had a column in the magazine called “Give and Take”—essentially signed editorials. My first effort was a short essay on the First Presidency’s statement opposing locating the MX missile in the Great Basin. | argued that the statement “pushed the Church toward the mainstream of American Christianity rather than its periphery,” because it indicated a “growing apprehension on the part of the leaders of the LDS Church with the worldwide threat of nuclear holocaust implicit in the spiraling arms race” (63). I thought the piece was straight- forward and positive, and it didn't elicit any negative comment. ‘My second “Give and Take” was a different matter. Entitled “To Love More Nearly as we Pray,” it was an inward-looking meditation reflect- ing on my experiences at Salt Lake's First Unitari- fan Church and a sermon by its minister Dick Henry. At the time, I called him a “thoughtful, well-read, insightful, soft-spoken” man whose sermons were filled with “new ideas, fresh per- spectives, [and] stimulating personal challenges.” While I haven't seen Dick for some time, since he is the minister emeritus, I am confident the de- scription still fits. In my essay I noted that Henry called on us to have the good sense to “save us from going around the world to find what is all the time at our ‘own door.” I reflected: How often . . . do I become so engrossed in what is happening in the world at large that I lose sight of ‘my own thoughts and feelings, the relationships T ‘have with family and friends; or, simply forget the 89 tie joys and satisfactions thet are us much a part of daily life as are the 100 frequently remembered distractions and frustrations. How often ... do I fill my cup—spiritually, ‘emotionally, and practically— from the reservoir of support and concem I find in the people closest 10 ne. And, to continue the metaphor, how often do T amy water back in the jar of daily experiences to feplenish that reservoir? Its a continuing challenge to repay on a mutual and equitable basis the commit- reat and concern that T count on from others. (80) In concluding his meditation, Henry offered cautionary prayer: Deliver us from having a conscience without sympathy, a conviction without tendemess, and Critical spirit without imagination, Forbid that we ‘walk among men with the strength which only makes ‘others conscious of their feeble knees, that we clothe ‘ourselves in the virtue which only makes others ‘conceal their stains, or that we carry our Tight only to blind others on the way and cause them to stumble. Forbid that we condemn our friends for having faults, when we have our own faults, different but as bad, and forgive us for feeling so seldom that we need to be forgiven. (80) While I thought the essay wasn’t especially problematic, it caught the attention of one reader: {In my Gentile days, including almost ten years as ‘a Unitarian, I frequently described my religious state fs “a damnation of intelligence.” I was continually finding that religion based on human intelligence, ‘Humanism if you will, constantly led to negativism. ‘And . . . Sunstone in the four-plus years tat I have been reading it has gradually taken on the arrogance that is the hallmark of Humanism. When one of your ‘writers finds solacein the banalities, generalities, and incongruities of Unitarian prayer—and you deem it ‘worthy of print in a so-called “Mormon” publication, am tempted to toss my cookies. ‘Because my subscription expires this month, T do not have the satisfaction of canceling my subscrip- tion, Nevertheless, permit me to part company with the observation thet I much prefer “The Glory of God is Intelligence” of doctrinal Mormonism to the intel- Tectual hyperbole, maundering, and arrogance that ‘Sunstone has employed in trying to dissect Mormon- ism while attempting to undermine its doctrinal base. (Davenport 2-3)Obviously we had not quite captured this good reader's support! More importantly, the letter indicates a growing polarization within the intel- lectual community. In addition to the things I wrote, when I conjure up those days my mind is filled with people, symposium sessions, and eagerly awaited issues of the magazine and review. I remember Sam Taylor discussing Brigham Young, and Ron Esplin commenting on his paper, clearly bringing together the old and new Mormon history. In one of our attempts at ecumenism, we organized a banquet panel comprised of local non-Mormon clergy. After the event, which went quite well, Stephen Sidorak, who was minister at Centenary Methodist, confided to me that the first thing he had done ‘when he took his place on the dais was locate all the exits in case someone made a rush for him or his pregnant wife! We brought Chaim Potok to town and, in the process, drew a big crowd to Kingsbury Hall—and still lost a bundle of money ‘on that fund raiser. I remember one year at one of the plenary sessions when I had the feeling that Mormonism’s right and left hands were meeting. Prior to the session the moderator made a series of announcements, including asking Bill Evans to please call his office. If you don't remember Bill, hhe was attending the symposium in his capacity as secretary of the Special Affairs Committee, T convinced the editors that we should reprint Dick Poll’s classic “What the Church Means to People Like Me,” which had originally appeared in Dialogue, because, I argued, a whole new generation of Mormon readers was unfamiliar with it, Poll was pleased, and the second appearance of the essay in the July-August 1980 issue of Sun- stone was well received. Not all my suggestions and opinions were so prescient, however. At the staff meeting where Peggy first proposed the idea of a symposium, I scoffed, saying we would be lucky to attract fifly people. I think we ended up with over five hundred. I also suggested a Sun- stone sesquicentennial desk calendar in 1980. It ‘was a financial flop, though in my defense it was a strange size and shape. In 1991, I tried to acknowledge my debt to Sunstone when I edited a collection of essays called The Wilderness of Faith (Salt Lake City: 90 Signature Books, 1991). While not quite “Sun- stone's greatest hits,” it features—in my opin- ion—ten of the finest essays to appear in the magazine, Not long after Wilderness was published, Sun- stone enabled me to open another door. Again it was one of those decisions which at the time didn’t seem monumental. I was in the Carpenter Building one summer day, working at Benchmark, and I walked down to the Sunstone office where there was still a Coke machine. (Maybe life is really a continuity of Coke machines!) Elbert and Cindy Dable were on deadline with the 1991 symposium program. Somebody had canceled and they had a hole to fill. “I've been doing research on the excommunication of Richard R. Lyman,” I volunteered, “and I need a reason to force me to put my thoughts on paper. Maybe that will solve both our problems.” Another example of my being wrong on both counts. You may remember the reaction on the part of the First Presidency to that symposium. I assume they had my discussion of the excommunication of an apostle in mind when their statement referred to “recent symposia” which “have included some presentations . .. that are offensive. We deplore the bad taste and insen- sitivity of these public discussions. . . . There are times when public discussion of sacred or personal matters is inappropriate” (Deseret News, 23 Au- gust 1991). In any event that presentation, the press cover- age about it, and the ensuing disagreement over it with my stake president, led me to open another door, leading me away from Mormonism and on to a different spiritual path, Obviously, when I reflect on “my Mormon experience” there is much more to it than my days at Sunstone, But Sunstone and the community associated with it were crucial and central. Unlike Michael Quinn, I am not a “DNA Mormon,” but rather a convert who tried, for a time, to integrate my Mormon-ness with other aspects of my life. While I am no longer in the fold, who I am and what I value were positively influenced by my years as a Mormon, Forrest Church (oops, another Unitarian minis- ter!) has written, “Salvation may be an individual quest, but redemption is a corporate enterprise”(146). I'm no theologian. I don't know if either salvation of redemption is in store for me. What I do know, however, is that in so many ways I also ‘owe a great deal to the “corporate enterprise” we know as Sunstone, JOHN SILLITO is professor of library science at Weber State University NOTE "Brooke Hopkins, “Thomas Merton: Standing Naked Before God,” Sunstone Review, December 1982, pp. 19-21. ‘As Hopkins observed: “What draws us to Merton's particular odyssey is the fact that it was one of ever deepening and widening spiritual growih. . . . His life constituted a series of events—iterally, decisions, tuning ‘points—each one of which led hina, in its resolution, to ‘more profound experience of God's love.” WORKS CITED Church, Forest. Life Lines: Holding On (and Letting Go) ‘Boston: Beacon Press, 1996. Davenport, John Scot. “Arrogant, Humanistic, and Done For.” Letter tothe Bator. Sunstone, July-August 1983: 23. John Sillito, “Give and Take: The First Presidency State~ ment on MX." Sunstone, May-June 1981, 63-64. _ Love Is the Measure by Which We Will Be Judged: Reflections on Dorothy Day.” Sunstone, Sanuary-Febru- ary 1981:62-63. to Love More Neatly as We Pray.” Sunstone, January-April 1983, 80. ——, and Susan Saker Oman, “Politics and Piety: an ‘terview with Orrin Hatch.” Sunstone, September- October 1980, 52-66. —, and Bill Slaughter. “An Interview with Wayne Ow- ‘ens.” Sunstone, July-August 1980:56-60. To a Grandmother Russell Burrows July 1995 Dear Grandmother, ‘Your journal reminds me that tomorrow will be your birthday. My own, just a month ago, happens to have brought me now to the age you were when Twas born. ‘Your life went on for another thirty-six years past this age I have reached. Dad's and Grand- dad's lives were nowhere near so long. And Great- ‘grandad lived only six years past this midpoint of an ordinary life, ‘Such has been our luck—or genes. You outlived your first-born, my dad, by two years—although there toward the end, you were not aware you were doing that. You women in this family live ong but are prone to losing memory. We men g0 along just fine—until, in our middle years, a brick seems to drop. T go back over my birthdays but do not sense anything like proverbial middle age. I may be slowing down, but I have been using @ shov- el—used one hard most all this weekend, and don't feel much worse for the work. Tam also supposed to be near the height of my intellectual or spiritual powers just about now. But if 1am near the zenith of my days, I must say that they don't seem all that high. This vantage point Tenjoy—whatever else it is worth—has not made ‘me like Solomon, so capable of telling others how to live. I feel more like Dante, who said in the first lines of The Divine Comedy: “Midway in our life's journey, I went astray from the straight road and woke to find myself ‘alone in a dark wood. Ihave even begun to think that, if I knock off carly as have s0 many in this line of ours, I may well depart life more bewildered than when T tumbled into it. Instead of achieving some sort of a stoicism, or even so little as am abiding confi- dence, I confess that often I am just plain lost. No, these strong middle years notwithstanding, it still looks as if I need about as much reassurance and forgiveness as I did when you helped care for me as a bawling kid. ‘The last time I saw you alive was the Sunday afternoon when Dad and I visited the rest home. 1‘Mom had already said you were “as shrunken as a little refugee,” and that had partly prepared me for the sight of you. I had been away at school and had not seen the worst stages of your decline. ‘You raised your head and asked, “Who's .. . there?” But I saw no recognition of us in your eyes, We were strangers to you. All who came to see you were strangers to you. You slid slowly toward your end. But, do you know, your loss did not really hit me until I stood to speak at your funeral? And there I knew that part of what got me hard was not the loss of you alone but also the earlier loss of Dad. That had violated the natural order of things, if there is such an order. So that which I suffered in front of your funeral was a partly deferred grief, which I am sure you would not have minded sharing, Those losses, of you and Dad together, marked one of those pro- found passages of time. This was so much true that at the cemetery I still wanted to stand apart from the others, my ability to summon up words clenched within me like a fist. But not long after that I began to realize you had not altogether died that day. Or rather, you died in the conventional sense, which applies, and but briefly, to keepers of mortuary accounts and of town records. The obvious good in that death was your escape from the humiliation, to say nothing of the danger, of not knowing where you were, or ‘who had come to talk with you, or what had to be done to care for you. A proud woman, you had done for yourself, and it must have been hard when with what remained of your awareness you began to fear that you would not always do for yourself, T have just said that you did not die, and have one of the best reasons for thinking so lying open here on this desk, You wrote your story. You did it up in 265 handwritten pages—sparing yourself few pains, but also recounting your joys. In the ‘Mormon faith that prompted you toward pen and paper, you wrote what is called your “life's story.” ‘This writing of one’s life is practically a com- ‘mandment among the faithful. But when it comes right down to keeping the faith, you were one of the few to have actually spread the papers out on the kitchen table and to have done this thing—this 92 accounting of one’s life and times. T look again at what you accomplished and realize that there is good reason for all people, not Just for the churchly, to tell their stories. For it's in your writing where you are still most obviously alive for us. As I sit here this rainy evening, reading you, and in turn trying to tell you some- thing, I find I can form an image of your blue eyes and of your pursed lips. I hear again your deep breaths and sighs from when you poised yourself over a page. Your lines make you living and luminous in my head. ‘The book you left was one of your most gener- ‘ous expressions, a gift that is always as close as ‘opening your pages. Except when Ihave neglected your wisdom, you have been right here speaking to me—and never more valuably than when Ihave let myself get distracted by some little crisis of confidence—or worse, when I have actually failed jin my sympathy for someone else. Those things you said about adversity, especially about the big part of it you saw during the Depression, still serve as a brake on my roaring impatience with the world. When I am tempted to compromise myself, you are still here to call me to account and to show the better way. ‘While I had been away, going to that school, I Jeammed more about who the Puritans had been, and it had sometimes occurred to me that I could call you “puritanical.” But standing you alongside old Salem’s pilgrims (and always doing it behind your back) was hardly more than a schoolboy’s conceit. First comes the big vocabulary and then later (maybe much later) comes the judicious use of the words. Needless to say, I no longer believe you were so very puritanical. That view of you lasted only until T knocked on your door when once I was back in town and let my curiosity ask you about what I had heard of your writing. ‘You were pleased, as Ihoped you would be. But I believe I went away after that morning’s reading more than pleased. Gratified would not be too strong a word, and that for having understood you better after reading your journal. You had always been so careful with yourself, so guarded, and there you were speaking of things Thad never before supposed. Yours had been the full human complement of feelings and dreams.‘You had started out doting on your dolls, and then ‘on your songs and stories and poems. You had gone to school and found in yourself a great appetite for all that was fine or rare. And you had had the amusements of young woman- hood—dances in the old White City Hall, late~ night games of Rook and Rummy, drives in the cool of the canyon. You spoke of those, and they had been not a few, who had easily and often hit your funny bone. If you will forgive my saying so, you had somewhere lost that sense of humor. Or it simply may have been that you had earned to bear yourself so well that you were just about as inscrutable as an old Chinese dowager. Some lucky ones do seem bom with patience; others have to learn their patience and wear it in a kind of forced fit. That may have been your patience, as I think about it, for rarely would you brim over with a joy for others to enjoy. But how miserable you were—well, that may have been another matter. You were content and contained within yourself in a manner that was ‘supposed to have vanished from the world. An irony of your birth was that you arrived here just about five months ahead of this so-called modern world. This odd reckoning of time and progress I ‘happen to have taken from Virginia Woolf. It was her notion that sometime in December of 1910 human nature had changed. Many bought into that claim for your birth year. You would not have. But then, you would not have been who you were if you had listened to any five minutes of Virginia Woolf. Ido not want any further account of the hard- ships of your life to turn lugubrious. But it will be well to Keep two or three ideas in mind, Among them was that the First World War neatly robbed you of your childhood, This happened when a tumultuous war economy drove your dad out of what had been a comfortable trade in “dry goods.” He had had the general store in a litle place called Kamas, a town built in a high valley on the west slope of the Uinta Mountains. ‘After he lost the store, you helped pick up the pieces of your lives as a child homesteader. Your family began in the classic fashion, by filing for a 320-acre section of unbroken ground. The home- stead was, however, but an interlude; like many 93 others, you lasted just a couple of years. It was a time when the Ute Indians were still coming through the Kamas Valley, trying to pursue their hunts. Your memory of them lay smoldering in your mother’s stern warning: “Wear your hat. Do ‘you want to get bumt as black as an Indian?” You didn't, in that time long gone by, but you lived to see that your daughters and granddaughters would go out to swelter under the sun—the suntan having tumed into a sign of good health, if not also of wealth and leisure, ‘You and your brother, Embleton, rode a pony, ‘Teddy, back and forth to school. One morning, in a sudden blizzard, you nearly lost your life when ‘you lost your way. It was the horse who made his ‘way into town later that afternoon with two frozen, half-conscious kids somehow still astride his back. A quick-thinking townswoman put you in a warm bath and brought you back around. ‘When not at your lessons o at the housework, you helped grub up the endless sagebrush. Lousy ‘with ticks, it took the place of coal, and you fed a mountain of the scabrous sage into the stove. Clearing the ground at the price of backbreaking labor, you were putting in wheat, whose promising market would nonetheless sink out of sight when Europe forsook hate and went back to work. You failed off the land and went back into town life, in Salt Lake City, where your dad ran a boarding house and worked as a retail clerk. Life again went along pretty well for a few ‘years, until the Depression practically robbed you of your young married life. By that time, your father had begun to make an unlikely empire for himself, He had gotten hold of a Maytag franchise, which had taken the family to Ogden. He had become the “washing machine king” of northern Utah and southern Idaho. You were indispensable in many sales: if a girl could operate the washers’ dials—well, any grown woman would be able to. All of a sudden, there was a new homie, a new car, and lots of new clothing and linen and dishes for ‘your trousseau. But one of your misfortunes was marrying in the summer of 1929. Your new husband (jt seems ‘odd to link the youngster you describe as Grand- dad) had just started with Standard Oil. The job came with the “perk” of a car. You felt all set up,Without warning, the company closed its operation in the region within the hours of a single morning. ‘You became poor enough, poorer than most. For a time, there were of course the Maytags; your father had split his sales territory and had given Part to you, You followed a string of dying stores across Idaho and on into eastern Oregon. Then came that truck ride home to Utah, epic in its Joad-like dimensions. You rode all the way with your firstborn on your lap. You were fuming that your new husband had chosen that moment to take up smoking, the great violation of your religion. You had another hard time of it when, trying to avoid a hospital bill, you started into the birth of 1a second child at home and pretty much by your- self, At the time, you were without indoor piumb- ing and would continue to live without it for the biblical period of seven years. You even lived one summer in a wall tent, while beginning to cultivate a small farm in Riverdale, For the second time in your life, you had been driven back on the land. ‘You would harbor no further romantic illusions about the beauty of country life. Through the depths of the Depression, you got by raising toma- toes, strawberries, chickens. But what really hurt was how Granddad contin- ‘ued to let the hard times rough him up. He became altogether feckless in his faith and churchgoing. On those things, you had set your store in life. So for nearly the next three decades, you had to keep the faith in your growing family, until there came the reconciliation in your marriage. Through it all you blamed no one, except perhaps fate, and kept to the bed you yourself had made. True, you had few options—no money, no connections, no exceptional schooling. But your responses to those limitations nevertheless came out of your under- standing of morality, which always counseled esponsibility toward those depending on you. ‘So why, with that great store of experience behind you, didn’t you talk about it? Or was it that you couldn't talk about it, but could only write it? Your book becomes all the more valuable when I think that without it I would have known you hardly at all. ‘AS you were in my time, you were hard to fathom, with your anachronistic temper and ways. I mean, what does one say of a person (and an old lady relation, at that) who in the full flush of rich America went on making her own soap? What should we have thought of one who kept carrying her wash water to throw on the garden? Was the drain somehow too easy? My friends would look you over and sometimes ask, “Is your grandma poor?” You were not. You drove a new car, at least once that I know of, after you had decided there was no point in buying someone else’s troubles. But there again, you had saved for that car and did the unlikely thing of paying cash. It was unprecedented, as far as We saw. But we were children of the affluent '50s and 60s, and that had done a lot to make us impatient of a home economy in any way narrow or limit- ing. We were also skeptical, as indeed many remain skeptical, of a morality so absolute, of a spirit so independent, of a resolve so tenacious. Ours is a ‘time of relative values—many of them constantly shifting. A defining feature of our time has been its rejection of the gemiitlich certainties of those we like to dismiss as Victorian. And, yes—I may as well add that “Victorian” was another label I tried to paste on you. But the fact is the decency and decorum and duty you strove for are not of any age. Reading you again this evening, getting further acquainted, I get the feeling that you were some- how just on the edge of what is now believable, I might just as well be writing the myth of a hero- ine, someone like an Abigail Adams, Or I might be telling the legend of a saint, some Patient Griselda. But to fit you credibly into this age would require a litle tailoring of your edges. I would have to find in you a complicating mo- tive—maybe something psychologically debilitat- ing. At the least, I would have to uncover some inchoate, prickly woman's failing, because heroic ‘qualities, besides looking thin and melodramatic to ‘our modern eyes, are a rebuke to those who have never risked enough to be heroic, And women ‘who have won their heroism through long-suffer- ing haven’t much appeal against impatient femi- nists, whose complaint is that such a gratuitous token (they deny that it could be heroism) is too much the invention of conspiring men. Well, just listen to me go on, when these werenever your cares. You went up against a different front and had long since fought your hard cam- paigns by the time I came along. What I saw in you was a will to keep up the good fight but perhaps not the judgment to decide when and how to fight. Often you seemed to be wasting your energies in the blunt conviction that the world was going altogether to hell. This is a common enough notion, by no means peculiar to the elderly. But in you it became the single, sustained note on which you went out, ‘The writer C. S. Pierce has said that belief is simply the disposition to act. Act you did. In the face of perceived evil, you defended yourself. Were newscasts full of strife sown by the devil? You switched off your TV and radio, Were too many ads tasteless or, worse, base? You let your subscriptions to the paper and to your magazines lapse. How high would prices go? You had been a tenacious saver, so despite a hefty bankbook, you started to horde food—so many small, worth- less scraps—your caches spoiled in your refrigera~ tor. You were scrimping on your heat and lights, until you were very nearly miserable, But the worst part of it was that your friends, aging themselves, could no longer drop by. They hhad been able to get you out of your house and out of yourself, Thus did you grow increasingly determined to conserve the best of yourself, and in a way you went too far, Do you know how quiet it got around your place? It was finally so deathly (quiet that my nagging young-man’s resentment at having to go over there was this: I rarely felt I had been able to talk with you. You would not settle for conversation but tried to turn the give-and-take of talk into a searching interview. You would set the world to rights all by yourself, if you had to. And starting in on your grandkids would have seemed as good a beginning as any. Do you recall your sense of a world run so badly off its rails? We pay such close attention to what the dying 95 find to say, but do the dead still care how, in Hamlet's words, they “shuffled off this mortal coil”? You may now have the perspective of the eternities. In which case, what reason would there be for looking back? But let me suppose, if only at odd moments, that sometimes you do turn your attention back this way. If ever this is the case, you may be amused to find that I have begun to {eel some of those fears of yours. Imagine me—an apocalyptic Chicken Little. But I began this rumi- nation in a black mood, dwelling on loss—yours, Dad's, others’, and also in calculating what might remain to me. A foolish endeavor, if ever there was one, But I have not kept it up, I'll say that for my- self. A crying jag suddenly seems just silly, even shameful. This bit of courage comes from reading you. Yes, Iam a good deal cheered up for having ‘pent the last hour with you. “My Teenage Years,” as you called one chapter, has done it, And “Building Our Home on the Farm” has been another good, big boost. You have not felt this close for a tong time. ‘The possibility of heaven should not be such an imponderable—that is, if what is wanted is some sort of a tie between the generations, each to each, with all souls as bluff and energetic as during the best earth years. We need not look for sparks of great divinity before feeling with an old blood immediacy that these here must be kin, Just to ‘meet you again in the fullness of your powers and grace—what a reunion it would be! You need not be garbed all in glory, as the gospels have the resurrected, but just incomparably as yourself should you step forth, as here on your pages. RUSSELL BURROWS teaches English at Weber State University. The holograph autobiography of his grand- mother, Lois White Burrows, is in the possession of her family.Ancestral Lives Craig J. Oberg As a young boy living with parents transplanted to Oregon, we made the slow bus ride back to Ogden, Utah, each summer to touch the family roots. If I could only recall all the stories my Grandmother Storey would tell us each time we traveled to the ancestral sanctuaries in North Ogden, Plain City, and even Albion, Ida- ho—graves where the bones were kept, headstones with terse dates, old homes and older relatives with first names none of my friends had. It was a summer ritual, a renewal, an old folks’ revival, gray hair, toothless gums, wrinkled smiles, and polite pecks on the cheek. It seemed that Mother's family had settled every small town in northern Weber County and that Father's family had been run out of them after- wards. Bams or bars, cowboy or painter, faithful or infidel, running stock or hard-rock miner, ‘Mormon trail or drunken tales, I never could keep the families or their stories straight, those bifurcat- ed roots of the family tree. ‘Times passes on; so do relatives. Grandma and Father, great aunts and uncles, cousins—soon the sanctuaries were empty, houses sold, and cemetery plots filled. Marriage, children, graduate school, and house payments, I realized one day that there ‘was too much present. I was always looking to the future, I wanted to know the past. Who were these people I visited only on Memorial Day with a handful of irises and lilacs? I don’t know the exact age when you feel the need to anchor life's boat in the ancestral bay, but I had reached it. Fortunately, Iwas mostly Mormon and I quickly found a vein of family gold: the hearts of the children had turned to the fathers (Malachi 4:5-6). My grandmother had written and collected a number of individual histories of her and Grand- pa’s ancestors. Praise the DUP! (If you were a member of the Daughters of Utah Pioneers then, you had to prepare and present vignettes about your ancestors at the monthly Camp meetings). I found three generations of short mimeographed life sketches, faith in every footnote, uplifting 96 struggles, Saints in sentence form. I had read a lot of Mormon history, but these smudged pages contained names I knew, places I had been, and DNA entwined in mine, I had stumbled on the literary underpinnings of our family, personal scripture, family “testaments.” Margaret Bell Storey, converted in England and friends with visiting apostles, was my mother’s great-grandmother, Her tale is legend. As her husband lay dying after having both legs amputat- ed by a train, he pulled her close and told her to take their children to Zion. She tumed down lucrative offers laced with security from her Gentile family to stay, and sent her older sons to work on the colliers in the North Sea. When ‘money had been saved, they left for America by ship, train, and wagon, eventually settling the rocky and undesirable foothills of North Ogden. She is even said to have traveled alone to the gold rush fields of southern Montana to retrieve several errant sons, perhaps by the ear. John Taylor, the “other John Taylor” of early ‘Mormon history, was converted during the Zion's Camp experience in Missouri, then called into the Church Historian's Office by George A. Smith in 1858 to tell the story of how he rescued the only copies of the first edition of the Book of Com- ‘mandments during the mob destruction of the printing press in Independence, Missouri. Saved by divine intervention as he pulled out copies from the burning log building, he took them to Bishop Partridge, who thought it a miracle. In Nauvoo he was a bodyguard for Joseph Smith and spent several stints in jail with the Prophet. Grandmother had every right to be proud of her great-grandfa- ther. George Burket Jr., born in Pennsylvania, con- verted to Mormonism in Indiana, was one of the first to gather in Missouri—the center stake, He was driven to Clay County, then to Far West and finally called on a mission to Illinois. He was with the Saints in Nauvoo and on the long march to Salt Lake City. He settled in Ogden Valley. His isa terse history, but every other word is “faithful.” James Ward, patriarch for two decades in North Ogden, was a convert in England and traveled across the plains to Zion. He and his wife led a spartan existence during the eafly years, often living in humble hovels. He climbed to promi- nence through hard work and faith. His history is full of testimonials concerning his civic contribu- tions and a legion of faith-promoting stories. During an outbreak of diphtheria, he walked miles to the stricken village and helped bury the dead and treat the sick without any regard for his own safety. Grandma's histories were almost an art form, “Victorian,” heroic and bold with little understate~ ment. I carefully filed them in manila folders and set out to collect the missing links. Little did I realize the odyssey I was embarking on. ‘Aside from two uncles, my father's brothers, ‘nothing had been written concerning my father’s ancestors. My father’s mother and I passed each ‘other on the way through the veil. I was born within months of her passing. The family tradition, noted by my own mother years earlier when she had tentatively explored my father's family tree, ‘was that Father's grandfather had been an orphan from Prussia who entered the United States illegal- ly. He spent most of his life as a hard-rock miner in Utah towns (such as Mercur and Eureka) that are now only highway historical markers. He is buried in Ogden, but his grave is unmarked as another coffin was placed over his. Obscure and impossible, it seemed the ideal challenge. I still cannot recall where I found ‘the naturalization record or the 1922 Nebraska hunting license. 1 think they were in a letter in a scrapbook my grandmother kept or maybe tucked in the family Bible kept for years in a basement box. Jacob Muntz, my Prussian orphan great-grandfather, had a Nebraska connection, tangible proof that some: of the old tale was wrong or at least permutated with repeated telling. Parriving in Ulysses, Nebraska, later that summer after a tour of county seats and municipal build- ings, I was ready to extract the truth. Unfortunate~ ty, Ulysses had shrunk from a prosperous farming hub with a main street to a cytoskeleton with two Churches and a gas station, T was directed to the toca! historian, a retired teacher living just off the main and only street. She had come across the name Muntz and even had a few newspaper clippings when the name had overlapped with her ancestral line, We walked a block to the town library, red brick, the only original building still in ‘use on Main Street. It was ‘small and well-stocked. In the back room was a stack of bound newspa- pers from the tum-of-the-century, Ulysses" heyday. ‘The paper didn't carry obituaries; and after an hour of searching, it was looking bleak when we came across a headline story “SUICIDE OF JACOB MUNTZ.” It read: On Friday morming last our town was thrown into & fever of excitement by the report that Jacob Muntz, an old citizen of Ulysses, had committed suicide. Tnvestigation proved a state of facis as follows: It seems that “lake” and bis wife did not get along on the pest of terms, she occupying one part of the house and te another. On Thursday night lst, Muntz kicked in the tocked door of his wife's bedroom, and with knife in hand threatened to kil her. She plead with him for her life, and he stopped long enough in his mad eareer to fo to his upstairs room, as Mrs. Muntz thinks, for # ope with which to ie her, No sooner bad he left her than she gathered up her dress and shoes and made her feseape in her night dress to the home of Mrs. Kolb, ‘where she remained all night. Next morning Mrs. Muntz tnd E. L. Rhodes weat to the house, Mra. Muntz being anid to go tlone, and upon investigation Muntz was found lying dead on the floor, with a bot of stryct- nine of the table, which be had purchased at the drug store the day before with which to poison rats, as he said. I had found the headwaters and they were tainted. After enduring that, I guess I might too have become an “orphan from Prussia” just as my Great-grandfather Muntz, stated. From that article, Twas able to trace the Muntz emigration from Germany fifteen years prior and found their progenitors to be farmers and fisherman, just plain folk, The Muntz clan now occupies several chap- ters in my family tome, and some of it is not for the faint of heart. I knew my Grandfather Oberg battled alcohol ‘and, when not inebriated, was considered the finest wallpaper hanger in Ogden. His parents died in a car-irain collision when he was @ teenager and he‘was raised by an older sister. Family life was pretty good when his blood alcohol level was low and lowly when it was high. I never knew him, as he didn't travel much and we were two states away. Twenty-five years later, I discovered a letter from Minnesota, tracked down the telephone number and found my grandfather's cousin, still living. Our conversation led to one of those moments like the first time you are standing on the beach and looking at the ocean—it is vast. My father’s family was not an isolated tribe in Utah, but covered the United States with extended relatives from Texas to Minnesota and from California to New York. I was part of something big, something substantial. I had relatives who did things that mattered, had made a contribution, I collected family members like baseball cards, but T did not want to trade. Stories, letters, pictures, clippings, and inter- views followed. I was writing history and it was fun, No “Victorian” tales here, A great uncle who ‘was a hairdresser to the stars in Hollywood before it was Hollywood. Another was a newspaper and banking mogul in Blackduck, Minnesota. He hauled the first safe to that new logging town by horse-drawn sleigh in 1900 and stayed around another thirty years to run his newspaper. Great- aunt Marie, who ran the Sunday School program for the United Methodist Church, during its fledg- ling years in Brown's Valley, Minnesota—wom- en's liberation before it was fashionable. There was Great-uncle Carl with his picture in a 1944 issue of Life Magazine as a member of the Busi- nessmen's Art Club in Los Angeles. He spoke four Janguages, was a lawyer, and learned to paint in his sixties. An immigrant family from Sweden made good with college educations, careers—the American dream—and I was a product of it progeny of sacrifice. The tree on my Gentile side hhad borne fruit. It was not nearly as glamorous in a religious sense, but it was substantial and fulfill- ing. All of this history I was writing, gathering, and it led directly to me, It made me want to take a closer look at my mimeographed Mormon roots, the “heroic ancestors.” I wanted them to be more like folks, less like folklore. That has been more difficult to do, to find new facts and flesh, the 98 humor and humility of their lives. T noticed a paragraph, a short paragraph, about John Taylor (the “other John Taylor”) living in Texas for several years on his way from Nauvoo fo Utah. I pursued it—Lyman Wight and the Georgetown Mormons. Prior to Joseph Smith's martyrdom, a number of options were explored for resettlement including the tablelands of Texas. A treaty had been tentatively entered into between the Republic of Texas and Lucien Woodworth, Joseph Smith's emissary, for the creation of an independent Mormon buffer state between Texas and Mexico, Texas became the Mormon “ace in the hole.” After the martyrdom, Lyman Wight with one hundred and fifty others went to Texas without the blessing of Brigham Young. Wight’s going to Texas was indicative of his personality, as it was said that Joseph was the only man who could control the “Wild Ram of the Mountains.” My great-great grandfather (John Ammon Taylor) was the first child born to the Texas Mormons. From the beginning, the endeavor seemed doomed. A flash flood destroyed their mill, Indian troubles constantly plagued them, and financial mismanagement finally proved to be their demise, John Taylor's family spent several frustrating years there before they realized Lyman was not a seer. They slipped quietly into Utah through the Colorado back door after stopping to lick their wounds in Nebraska. Not a faith-promoting period for them, yet at least they realized the error of their way and retumed to the fold. It gave me comfort since I had also wandered for a time. Perhaps that Texas experience was more indica- tive of John Taylor's nature because my great-aunt (his great-granddaughter) later told me the story of the river bottoms. This occurred after the family finally settled west of Ogden. It seems that during the slack moments in the summer men would cut firewood along the Weber River bottoms and stack it to cure, John and his sons had a supply stacked to last them through the winter and went to haul it in that fall, Backed up to one of their piles was the ‘West Weber bishop's wagon, nearly loaded. Other piles were already gone. John sought redress with higher Church authorities (the only source of law at the time) and was told that since he had lots of sons and the bishop had none, the bishop couldkeep the wood. This verdict so infuriated him that he left the Mormon church and joined the RLDS faith, even moving to Ogden Valley to escape the focal authorities. It took the family a generation to recover from lost firewood piles in the river ‘bottoms. The icon of the Taylor line was certainly a bit tamished, If you can't say anything good, then don’t say anything. It must have been the axiom for ances- tral histories, at least for my pioneer family. The ‘more I collected, the more 1 interviewed, the more I wrote, the more interested 1 became in adding flesh to the sacred bones, the bare facts. My Gentile side had shown me it could be done. 1 guess it is part of our nature to be mythmakers nd hero creators, Just ask anyone about their children and you will see what I mean. Fame, fortune, FAITH—that was the substance of those carly histories, particularly faith. Vicarious ances- tral victory. Salvation by pedigree. If I am human ‘with all the baggage that implies, let them be also. ‘Then I can begin to understand them and really answer the question, where did I come from? CRAIG OBERG is a member of the faculty at Weber State University. My Mother, Poet of Experience Mikel Vause ‘As a professor of English, one of the things 1 tell my students is whatever they write, regardless of whether it is a short book review, @ paper on the issue of parking at Weber State, or a piece of autobiography, and regardless of grade, they should hang on to it. File it away. I tell them that their writing is a record of who they were, or Who they are at the time of writing, and a measuring stick of who they may become, Most students look at me with more than a fair amount of skepticism. T can see the thoughts roll past their eyeballs, “who is interested is what's happening in my life? I'm stuck here in Ogden, Utah, going to school at ‘Weber State. Hell, I can’t even get a date for the weekend. What in my life could be of any interest to anyone else when it's not even interesting to me?” 1 know those thoughts. They sometime creep through my head even though I know that all of us have plenty going on that, in the future, will be great stuff for stories. I tell them that the litle ‘puritan woman whose journals were discovered by Laurel Thatcher Ulrich and later became the grist for A Midwife’s Tale, and won for Ulrich a Pulit- zer Prize and a tenured appointment at Harvard, never ever thought her story would be of any future importance either. ‘Take my life, for example, Tam the product of an unlikely marriage. My father, Laurence Vause, ‘was a bit of a rounder in his early days. His father came to America from Derbyshire, England, when he was about twenty-one. He was a butcher by trade, He met his wife in Salt Lake City. They moved to Ogden because of the railroad and started a family. My father was the second of three boys and one gitl. He didn't get along at all well with his family. By the time he left home at thirteen, he had nearly lost a hand chopping wood, exploded a double barreled 410 shot gun by pulling both triggers at the same time (as a boy T remember pieces of shrapnel working their way to the surface on the left side of his face), worked at the circus, and gotten tattooed. The circus work and the tattoo were a big part of why Dad struck out on his own at such an early age. He worked on a cattle ranch in Idaho, learned the boilermak- e's trade on the railroad, and sold beer for Beck- er’s Brewing Company. By the time he and my mother met, he was doing window displays for the old W. T. Grant Company in Salt Lake City, He hhad just returned from three years in New York ‘and had just gone through his second divorce. ‘My mother, Stella Bowen, on the other hand, had lived a relatively quiet life, She was born and raised on a sheep ranch called “The Point” just south of Malad, Idaho, close to a little villagecalled Henderson Creek. She was about in the middle of twelve children in a loving Mormon family just one generation from Wales. The most exciting things in her young life were the Indians ‘coming to barter with her parents for food or when their father’s sheep partner, Old Man Clark, killed a troublesome grizzly bear over in Logan, Utah, called “Old Ephraim.” Her life was mostly quiet, a few minor adven- tures, some of which I'll talk about a bit later. She did have to face a few tragedies. The loss of several siblings was common in those days for families living on ranches out away from immedi- ate medical help. Her aunt and uncle were mur- dered by some Indians who had been drinking and stumbled on their isolated little cabin and tried to rob them. Finding they had nothing to take, the drunks decided to take their scalps. The murders occurred in front of her two cousins, Bernice and Tom, who after that, came to live with them. The Depression came along; and my grandfather, like many ranchers and farmers, had his loans called due and, as a result, Mom's family was forced off the ranch. They moved to American Fork, where she finished her senior year in high school. She took a job with Grant’s Department Store in Salt Lake City, where she and my father met. The most unusual thing about this marriage, aside from its being my father’s third and my mother's first, not to mention the vast difference in their backgrounds, was that it came quite late in their lives. Mom was in her late thirties and Dad in his late forties. I came along, quite unexpected- ly, a couple of years later. ‘Now I don’t have much to remember my father by, a few tools, his fishing rods, only a couple of photographs, but little else—except his stories, My dad was a great storyteller and many of the stories he told me I have written down and have even published a few of them, My dad has been gone a Tong time now. I've been married longer than my mother and father were together in mortality. I've known my father-in-law longer, by double, than I knew my own father. On the other hand, my mother and I were together for thirty-cight years and, like my father, Mom was a good storyteller too. My mother liked to write, When I was serving 100 as a missionary in Missouri and Iowa, I received letters from her on an average of twice a week. ‘These were no mean epistles. They were stuffed with all sorts of important information. Not only would Mom fill me in on all the neighborhood happenings, she would also insert newspaper clippings on every subject. Many times it seemed that she had sent the entire Ogden Standard Examiner minus only the margins. She would go on for pages regarding some political issue, or she would include a recipe she thought a missionary could actually pull together into something edible, but mostly she would tell stories. She was faithful in writing, Recently I spent several days with Ray Brad- bury, He told me that since he was ten, he has written every day of his life. To be a good writer, it takes that kind of commitment, My mother was, much like Bradbury, she too wrote almost daily. During my time as a missionary, Mom had an accident at work. She slipped on a wet floor and broke her hip and her right arm. She was right- handed. Yet her letters still came on schedule. She simply taught herself to write with her left hand, Because of her accident, the mission president gave us permission to communicate regularly by phone, which was unnecessary. I don’t think she ever missed her self-imposed two letters per week. My mother died going on seven years ago after along bout with cancer. As she was lying in bed unable to get around because of the baseball-sized tumor in her brain, T would sit and read to her. 1 read her Edward Geary's book Good-bye to Poplar Haven, a wonderfully rich collection of stories about life in Huntington, Utah. After I'd finish a story from the book, Mom would say, “That story reminds me of the time... .” and she'd g0 off into a story about her life out at “The Point.” Many times she would repeat stories, Sometimes she'd tell new stories, ones I'd never heard before. ‘Among my favorites was the story of my Uncle Leo's experiments with aeronautics. He had read the myth of Icarus and decided there was some- ‘thing legitimate to attaching bird wings to a human, thus allowing one to soar above the earth. So in the spirit of true science, Leo killed a big crow and removed its wings. He then convincedhis litle sister, my mother, to participate in the role of test pilot. He strapped the large black feathers to my mother’s arms, led her to the top of the bam, and convinced her to jump, telling her all she had to do to fly was flap her wings. The experiment as over fast. My mother landed in a heap in front of the big bam doors. Her reward for flight, a compound fracture of her left arm. Ah, the trust a sister has in her elder brother. ‘Another of Mom's stories centered around the need to respond to the call of bodily functions. Mom told of having eaten something that upset her stomach. She found herself making trips to the outhouse far more often than she did normally. ‘The greatest concern for my mother, growing up ona ranch, was snakes. She hated snakes, as d0 I. ‘An inherent trait. The path from the house to the ‘outhouse was lined by sagebrush, the perfect place to be ambushed by a big old rattler. Her brother's regular reports of slaying serpents on the path to the loo didn't allay her anxiety. When nature called, she would move as quickly as possible from point A to point B, always feeling certain ‘measure of security upon arriving unmolested to the outhouse. On this particular occasion, Mom hurried to the toilet, closing the door and prepar- ing to sit at pretty much the same time. Once inside and safely seated, Mom looked to one side only to be greeted by a huge blow snake that sprang at her while making that terrifying sound as it exhaled. A while later her mother found her, in shock, still seated on one side of the two holet. It was stories like these that brought my mother’s life into perspective for me. As a child I longed for similar experiences so I could build stories for my children. ‘My Grandfather Bowen had been a sheep herder his entire life, and it nearly killed him to lose his ranch. You see, it was his father’s ranch, the one he'd settled after he followed Charles C. Rich to the Bear Lake Valley from Salt Lake City. David Bowen was only at Bear Lake a short time when ‘Apostle Rich sent him to help establish a branch of the church over the mountains to the west of Bear Lake, in the vicinity of Malad, Idaho, My grandfather grew up on that sagebrush- and juni- per-covered ranch along with his brothers and sisters, Because money was tight, only two of my 101 ————— ———“aS grandfather's siblings were able to go to any school at all, The other kids stayed at home to ‘work the ranch, Albert E, Bowen and Bdith Bow- fen, the two oldest, attended primary and secondary school in Malad and then both went to Logan, Utah, which then had two schools, Utah State ‘Agricultural College and Brigham Young College, later the high school campus. With the help they received from home, they both distinguished themselves, Albert in English and history and Edith in education, and both joined the faculty at BYC. Albert went on to graduate from the Uni- versity of Chicago Law School, practice in Logan ‘and Salt Lake City, and teach law at the Universi- ty of Utah until he was called as a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. Edith completed graduate work at U.C. Berkeley and taught at Utah ‘State where the teacher training college, the Edith Bowen School, is named in her honor. ‘Albert and Edith never forgot the support they had received because of the sacrifice of their brothers and sisters, so when Grandpa Bowen lost the ranch, Albert found a small farm in American Fork and helped Grandpa to start his life over. It is here my mother's saddest story begins. ‘Mom was very quiet and shy and not just a ite nervous to be in such a large place as American Fork, This little village seemed like a thriving metropolis to my mom. Yet after a short time, she had made a few friends and was eventually asked to the senior prom at American Fork High School. Still feeling the effects of the depression on the family finances, it was difficult for Mom to ask for a new dress. But to go to the dance wearing the same clothes that one had worn to school or church was more than embarrassing, it was out of the question. If Mom couldn't have a new dress, she would decline the offer. With this resolution in ‘mind, Mom approached her mother. T had never realized the hardships my mother had faced until her funeral. My Uncle Fred ex- plained in his eulogy that, because she was a teenager when the depression hit, she had to forgo many of the opportunities and activities that were commonplace to both her older and younger brothers and sisters. Her mother recognized this and insisted she would find a way to get her a new dress. The Saturday morning before the dance — “Nvfound my Grandma Bowen and Mom standing at the comer of Center Street and Main in downtown American Fork waiting for the bus to Salt Lake City, The route was a milk run, with the bus stopping in every little wide spot in the road between Utah and Salt Lake counties. Finally they arrived in Salt Lake City. This was one of the first times my mother had ever set foot in Salt Lake City. They made their way from the bus depot on the comer of South and West Tem- ple Streets, east to Walgreen's Drug Store. It was there my mother and her mother had their first and, most likely, the only lunch date together in their lives, Mom was overwhelmed by the size of the city, The expanse of buildings and the sheer ‘numbers of people wandering about was frighten- ing. And of course, there was the temple, the very symbol of their faith, The great, gray granite building represented all they were. They took the time to visit the grounds, to wander about the “Brigham Oak” benches and columns inside the Tandmark Tabernacle. They stared at the awesome beauty of the stained glass in the Assembly Hall. ‘And the statue honoring the miracle of the seagulls caused Mom to recall the wonders of miracles that were removed from her time by only a few short years. After the expedition to Temple Square, they made their way to Main and South Temple Streets and stepped into ZCMI. Zion's Cooperative Mer- cantile Incorporated was the oldest department store in America, Immediately upon entering, Mom's senses were startled by the wonderful aroma of fresh-baked bread mingled with the scents of flowers and perfume. Every way she ‘turned, she was confronted by the most dazzling things—furniture and painting, lamps and lipstick. ‘They made their way to the women’s clothes, where their search for the perfect dress began. Mom was in heaven, pushing through the racks of dresses and being attended to by a very helpful saleswoman, She'd take several dresses at a time into the dressing rooms to try on. Then she'd come out to model them for Grandma Bowen. ‘There were any number of dresses that would work, but it was the forest green velvet dress that caught hold of her. My mother was no different that I was, or than my children are; the most expensive is always the most desired. It's automatic, Of all the dresses she tried on, the green velvet one was the most beauti- ful and, by far, the most expensive. Announcing her choice, the reality of their finances completely extinguished, Mom held up the green velvet. Grandma tried to direct Mom's attention to other very attractive dresses, but none Could stand up to the elegant softness of the velvet or the richness of the forest green. Mom could clearly envision her self in that dress as the belle of the ball. Mom's excitement faded a bit when she saw her mother looking more closely at price tag than the dresses themselves. She realized that it was almost twice as expensive at $7.99 as the other dresses. ‘And Mom knew that $7.99 would buy more than a week's food for the rest of the family. With that in mind Mom voluntarily made a less expensive selection and wandered off to look around the store while Grandma Bowen paid for the dress. It was only afler returning to American Fork that ‘Mom found the green velvet dress had followed her home, ‘This seemingly “happily ever after story” takes a difficult turn when Mom's hopes for the dance ‘were dashed by the loss of her one of dress shoes. Somehow one of her black, stacked heel shoes had disappeared and, by the way, never reappeared. Mom couldn’t ask for more money and was too proud to borrow shoes from a friend, so she turned. down her date. The green velvet dress was eventu- ally returned unworn. My uncle gave this example of the adversity my mother had faced and over- come in her lifetime. Looking back, it seems that Mom came up short a number of times. The most significant and ‘painful was the untimely death of my father. When I think of all T have and how lucky I've been to have a great family, to be healthy, and to make a fair income, the words of my mother come back to me and bring with them sadness and heartache. I remember that the day after my father’s funeral, I found my mother sitting alone in the dark front room of our house. She said to me, “It doesn’t seem fair. I only had him seventeen years,” and she started to cry. But as with all the trials in her life, she overcame this one and worked hard to 102——— ll ts— provide me with a good life. ‘Over the years I asked her to record her life story 80 her grandchildren would know her as 1 had come to know her. Each time I broached the subject came the same response, “My life's not all that interesting and certainly not that important.” ‘When my mom died I realized that I had missed a great opportunity by not taking a recorder with ‘me to the hospital, so that when I finished reading one of Ed Geary’s stories, I could have recorded Mom's stories that followed. ‘After the funeral, my wife, Janis, my kids, and I started the painful task of cleaning out Mom's house and disposing of her belongings. As I sorted through her filing cabinet, I came to a large package wrapped in brown paper and tied with a piece of twine. In black letters were the words “Miike, this is for you.” I opened the package to find pages of stories, poems, and a complete autobiography. As I pour over my mother’s writ- ten work, I found that not only had she recorded her life, she had experimented with various short- story forms, everything from minimalist fiction to epistolary stories. She had produced poems upon the occasion of the births and blessings of my children and many other occasions. And this was ‘no small collection; it clearly represented years of effort. I concluded that she, like Ray Bradbury, must have written every day. My mother's stories will probably never show up on the New York Times best seller list, but they are treasures that I value above almost anything else I own. ‘The following, simply titled “For Kelly, Emily, and Sarah,” is a piece of creative nonfiction by my mother recounting the arrival of her family in ‘America. She wrote it after a visit to “The Point.” By addressing her grandchildren, she used the same technique used by many novelists to draw the reader into active participation with the text. ‘This conversational story-telling technique is common to Richardson's Pamela, Thackeray's Vanity Fair, and Trollope’s Barchester Towers, as well as many others. This was Mom’s last visit to her childhood home. She made this trip with her three granddaughters and me. I drove the car, but ‘Mom took us there with her stories. FOR KELLY, EMILY, AND SARAH by Stella Bowen Vause Your Great-great Grandma Shackleton was born across the ocean at a place called London, Eng- land. Her father died when he was a very young man, Her mother taught her to read at a very early age. They couldn't go to school because they hhad to work to help keep food on the table. They were very, very poor. She did get 10 go to Sunday ‘school which gave her more joy than anything else. Her mother was a Baptist and every morning Great-Great Grandma had to read a verse out of the Bible before she could play. ‘At the age of ten years she worked for a sta- tioners establishment where she operated a ma- chine that had every variety of paper needed including sheets for music. ‘Around this time her Uncle Sutton, her mother’s youngest brother was converted to Mormonism ‘and took many hours off his work schedule to preach the Gospel. At this time his sister Ellen took very ill and was very close to death. His mother asked him to pray for her. He offered the most beautiful prayer at her bedside in which he told her she would get well and embrace the Gospel and go to Zion. In the spring of 1851 your great-great-great grandma, her sisters and your great-great grand- ‘ma Bowen (Annie Shackleton Bowen) were bap- tized into the Mormon church. That was one hundred and thirty-one years ago. Annie joined in church activities, sang in the church choir and distributed tracts for the Elders. In the year of 1860, one hundred and thirty years ago she emigrated to Castle Garden, New York, on the sailing vessel Vanderbilt. It was a hard journey, but they were strong in body and mind and equally as strong in their beliefs. They stayed at Castle Garden a few days then went by steamboat to Albany, New York. From here they went by train to Omaha, Nebraska. They left Omaha and journeyed by team of horses to Flor- ence (winter headquarters) where they remained until they were ready to cross the plains. When they started this journey, two hundred Indians {followed them for many miles. They were dressed 103in warrior clothes with feathers and war paint. ‘The saints were friendly to them and to keep them happy, they had to share their food with them. The Indians wanted to trade ponies for the young girls. They were three months on the plains and suffered many tortures and discomforts but the worst one was the mosquitos that plagued them. ‘They arrived in Salt Lake City, Utah, in early October. She came across the plains with a family named Pascoe. She was rather badly “run down” ‘as she had not been used to such a hard life, She had walked almost the whole journey. She didn't ‘mention how far it was but I suppose it was close to the same amount of miles as you and your daddy and mama, living in Ohio, will have to journey to get back to Utah. ‘A Mrs, Ballen asked your great-great-grandma to live with her, which she did. She was as good as a mother to her. But Brother Ballen became discontented and wanted 10 go look for fresh quarters. ‘At this time, she met the Moon family. One of Brother Moon's wives became ill and he needed someone to wait on her so Annie went to work for them. It was here that Annie Shackleton met her husband, David Bowen, His parents had sent him across the ocean from the land of Wales to pre- pare for them to come later. David and Annie ‘were married the 16th of February 1861. David ‘acquired property but no cash as everything was traded, In 1863 he finally managed to send the money for his family's emigration. David and “Annie were so poor she had to borrow a dress to ‘go to meet them. Food was expensive but David had to find a way to help his family. In 1864 Annie’s mother and brother came to Utah but the hardships she endured on the plains took their toll and ten days later her mother died. Your great-great-grandpa and -grandma worked very hard. They had a lot of bad illnesses, but there was always help among the saints especially the sisters of the Relief Society. You probably heard of the grasshoppers which came in hordes ‘and destroyed the crops. If you haven't, ask your daddy or mama to tell you about them. It was so hard to find anything to eat. In 1869 they left Salt Lake and moved to Ida- ho—a place called Henderson Creek where (greece ae Grandma Stella's father was born, your great- ‘grandfather, There were no schools so Annie had to do what her mother did, teach the children at home. In the winter evenings they taught school in their own house. David set jup the copies and “Annie taught the children to spell and to read, She knit and made all the clothes by hand. Much later she finally could afford a sewing machine and by the time her oldest son was 17 he had his first tailor-made suit. In 1876 they sold their home and moved 10 Samaria, Idaho. This is where your Grandma Stella was born and most of my brothers and sisters. They were a branch of the Malad ward ‘and luckily there was a school that the children could attend. Great-great-Grandma Annie and Great-great- Grandpa David formed a choir. There were no books or sheet music, so they had to start from scratch, and it worked. ‘At this time the Mutual Improvement Association was being organized and Great-great-Grandpa was chosen president of the young men and Great- ‘great-Grandma was assigned to the young ladies. They were without experience and were handi- capped by lack of books and literary material. ‘Annie had a good memory and was a voracious reader so was able to fill in the gaps by writing ‘short poems and songs from memory for the girls to learn. They accomplished many rewarding things and were drawing the young people from all around the valley 10 come to Mutual. ‘Annie used to hear the children singing at their play and noticed who had good voices. They ‘selected a dozen of them and taught them to sing in parts, It delighted their parents, The next year they got up @ bazaar and sold articles the girls made and along with donations ‘from the young men, they purchased 25 volumes of ‘music for use in the Mutual. Annie continued this work jor five years and then became secretary it the Relief Society and held this position untit they ‘moved to Logan, Utah, in 1901. They provided a place for several of their grandchildren who cane 10 Logan for their education. Great-great Grandma Bowen was a self-edi- cated person and was very learned, She studied Shakespeare, Thackeray and all the noted writers 104and could speak on any subject. 1 think your daddy must have inherited his love for English literature and all that he is studying at ‘acollege from his Great-Grandma Annie Shackle- ton Bowen. ‘Annie Shackleton Bowen was stil! going strong when this was written and as she said, “I am sim- ply waiting for the curtain to fall.” She was a remarkable lady. MIKEL VAUSE is a professor of English at Weber State University and bas published numerous articles, particular- ly on climbing, the environment, and wildemess, poems, ‘and short stories. He recently finished a collection of po- ems, 1 Knew It Would Come to This. Electric Talk: Twenty Months of AML-List Benson My first experience with the Internet came in December 1994. My wife and I had called a bulle- tin board at Hill Air Force Base with our new computer modem, and coulda’t resist trying all the options, including two called “gopher” and “qynx.” We didn't entirely understand what we were doing, but we'd go a bit farther each day. Before we knew it we were penetrating computers in Europe, Australia, China, and waiting for the military police to show up at our doorstep, or at least a military accountant with a several thousand dollar bill. Neither happened. As we leamed, connecting to any computer on the Internet is as ‘200d as connecting to all of them, wherever they are in the world. It didn’t take me long to see how this could bring Mormon literature devotees together. We are one to a workplace, two to a university, all over the country and world, and while we can rarely round up enough of us for a reading circle, many have Internet access through their schools or em- ployers, or subscribe to online services at home. I saw that a number of LDS-oriented Internet mail- ing lists already existed, in some cases going back several years. I approached Bob Hogge of the Association for Mormon Letters and Levi Peterson. ‘of Weber State University about sponsorship, and after some deliberation they agreed. ‘An Internet mailing list allows many-partied discussions to be carried on by e-mail. People can subscribe to a mailing list by sending an e-mail message to an address on a host computer. Re- ‘quests are typically handled by list server software, without human intervention, so people can come and go at will. Subscribers participate in conversa- Parkinson tions by sending e-mail to a second address on the host computer. The list server copies the message and resends it to all the other subscribers, who typically receive it in a matter of minutes, whether they are next door or halfway around the world, Depending on whether your computer is net- worked, you might be sitting at your desk, tapping away at your novel, or doing a lesson plan, or hacking out the manual for the space shuttle, when your computer alerts you to the fact you have an incoming message. If you're busy, you let messag- es stack up and read them later, like voice mail. If you're ready for a break, you click on the icon, and there’s a snippet of conversation on Mormon literature. If your computer is not networked, when you're ready you click an icon to dial your Inter- net provider, and there your messages are waiting for you. ‘The nature of list conversations is influenced by the fact that they are written, and by e-mail’s particular speed, generally between twenty seconds and a couple of hours. People tend to be more ‘thoughtful and somewhat more grammatical than they might in person or on the phone, and speak {n paragraphs rather than sentences. That's not the same as speaking in essays, as they might in a print publication; but while you might wait months for feedback on an essay, you can easily exchange half a dozen e-mail messages in an afternoon. Since messages cross, subscribers tend to carry on. ‘multiple conversations in parallel. These are re- ferred to as “threads” with the thread title in the message's subject line, Messages typically quote a portion of a previous message, set off with the ‘S" character, then respond. 105AML-List, which is the name of our forum, can be an exciting place. No paper publication devotes a tenth the space to hammering out how LDS literature ought to be. AML-List is full of energy, with a perennial flow of new ideas. Like most lists, AML-List can be rough and ready, off the cuff. By convention, spelling on the list is option- al—after all, most mail readers don’t have spell checkers, First names, rather than sumames and titles, apply. AML-List is a good place to hone ideas, whether in new paths or well-trodden ones. Of course a certain amount of repetition is inevita- ble as newcomers hone theirs. Conversations can be quite diverse on the list. Among our two hundred subscribers are published and aspiring novelists, poets, dramatists, essayists, technical writers, critics, publishers, editors, librar- ians, graduate students, professors, actors, musi- cians, painters, and, perhaps most important, fans. ‘When we first started, critics and fans were the two largest groups, and they tended to be mistrust- ful of each other. We had a difficult time getting them to post on the same day, let alone the same thread, but since then we've managed to find some ‘common ground. One of our significant constitu- encies now is writers and fans of speculative fiction. One thread in the autumn of 1995 began with Tory Anderson’s innocent query as to wheth- er, given Mormons’ view of the future, it was possible to write credible LDS science fiction Re: LDS Science Fiction,” 23-OCT-1995 09:48: 22.30). The discussion got sidetracked when Tim Behrend questioned whether it were possible to write morally significant science fiction at all (‘Re: LDS Science Fiction,” 25-Oct-1995 16:44: 44,58). Science fiction supporters and detractors talked past each other for quite awhile, but we've managed to hammer out a common language, ‘Much credit goes to Scott Parkin and others, who have made us aware of a whole school of young LDS writers making waves in the national SF ‘market with tales influenced by their Mormonism. When we launched the list, we talked about whether it should be moderated or open. On a moderated list, messages are routed to a moderator for review before going to subscribers, Dennis Clark, from the AML board, preferred to at least start with a moderated list because of “cranks” and 106 “flameheads” at large on the Internet and the risk of embarrassment they posed to Weber and the AML. “Flaming” refers to the phenomenon of heated argument and extreme invective delivered via e-mail out of proportion to all provocation. Several Mormon-related lists have been plagued with flaming, perhaps because people's identities are so tied up with their views on the moral and spiritual issues under discussion. Someone's claim that a pop machine in the basement of the old Eyring Science Center at BYU served Coke can lead to a free-for-all, with charges of hypocrisy flying one way and disloyalty the other, That quickly drowns out more productive discussion. In addition, many Mormons have low tolerance for contention and won't participate on a list with a reputation for flaming. So we've kept AML-List moderated. For seven- teen months, whenever a post came in that violat- ed our ground rules, I’d return it, usually with a suggestion for editing. People don’t like being edited, but they appreciate the respectful, stimulat- ing, and focused atmosphere we've managed to maintain, Jacob Proffitt recently compared the list to “a visit to Benson's house for a living room chat with literary types. Not a bad feeling,” he says, and I have to agree (“Re: Echoing AML- List,” 10-Jan-1997 18:10:56.24). In October 1996 the volume of messages on AML-List swelled beyond what I could handle. Now I moderate for volume as well as tone, forwarding the best thirty posts of the forty or so we receive daily and re- turning the occasional one. Daily features go out under the masthead of AML-List Magazine. The initial impulse of this e-mail publication was to broaden our base of discussion without dominating the conversation. AML-Mag, as we call it, is available separately or as an automatic part of an AML-List subscription. We reprint articles related to Mormon literature from Wasatch Front newspapers. Publishers pro- vide us complimentary copies of books for our subscribers, and we run the resulting reviews. We sponsor regular weekly columns. On Monday we run surveys by “Absalom,” the ostensibly anony- mous Dave Combe. Michael Austin writes “Criti- cal’ Matters” on Tuesdays, a column devoted to LDS literary theory. On Wednesdays comes ScottParkin’s “Worlds Without Number,” which focuses ‘on LDS science fiction and fantasy. Thursdays Robert Paxton posts “Latter-day Stages,” his dra- ma column. Fridays we devote to scriptural medi- tations with Edgar Snow's “Of Curious Workman- ship” and Richard Rust’s “Feasting on the Word.” In addition we've had Jana Remy’s weekly “Biblio File” reading lists, and a variety of other guest and regular columnists, including my own “Literary Combine.” We determined from the beginning to preserve an archive of AML-List. I thought at very least it would be a way for scholars and readers in the future to get a sampling of public reaction to ‘books and to gauge the acceptance of ideas. But while the list is primarily a vehicle for populariz~ ing, there have been a lot of significant ideas and theories proposed and pounded around. We make the archive available through the AML-List Home Page on the World Wide Web, the graphical por- tion of the Internet. ‘The World Wide Web consists of electronic “pages” which can be accessed remotely by any- one with an Internet hookup and a Web browser. Pages may contain images, sounds, video, and/or text, Highlighted text indicates a link to another ‘page, which can be on the host computer or on ‘any other computer anywhere on the Internet. Clicking on the link brings it into view, and, of course, that page can have links of its own, The AML List Homepage: (hutp:/ice. weber.edu/~am-ist htm!) which is accessed roughly eighty times a week, includes information on the Association for Mor- mon Letters and a link to Weber State University. It includes subscription information, list and re- ‘view guidelines, a subscriber index, and an archive of subscriber reviews. Right now it includes the complete text of the play Gadianton by Eric Sam- ‘uelsen, which the list will be discussing in Febru- ary, followed by an explanation of our online writing circles. Our Literature and Arts section contains links to Gideon Burton's Mormon Litera- ture Web Site, other literary sites, writers” groups, fan pages, pages for Mormon arts-related festivals, ‘and pages for museums with LDS collections. The LDS and Related Publishers section includes links to publishers with homepages, plus @ separate, comprehensive list with Internet and street ad- ‘dresses, As far as we've learned, this is the closest thing to a Writer’s Market for the LDS market- place, and it's visited around ten times a week. ‘Next comes our list of magazines. Again, as far as we know, this is the most comprehensive direc- tory available to LDS writers. We also list home- pages of newspapers likely to review Mormon books. Our Bookstore area links to Deseret Book's lists of most every physical LDS bookstore in existence, as well as several virtual bookstores on the Internet, and provides toll-free phone numbers for bookstores that take orders by phone. Next comes our library section, with links to catalogs of libraries with LDS literature collections, as well the Library of Congress. In the past, people living ‘away from centers of Mormon population have had a hard time finding LDS books. Our goal is that, if a book can be had, we want to provide the tools for acquiring it, whether through a new or ‘used or online bookstore or through Inter-Library Joan. “The archive page, which averages around twenty visits a week, contains daily digests for the past week, as well as monthly or semimonthly digest files going back to the list’s inception. These last tend to be large, typically over 500 kilobytes, though it is possible to load them with your browser and use the “find” function to search them. Another option is to download them to your local computer and search them with a word processor, Once a year, AML-List offers the archive in text and Infobase formats on a CD-- ROM. This allows quick, year-wide, Boolean searches on any title, any author, or arly subject in Mormon literature, ‘Wayne Booth, who spoke at the 1995 AML Conference fundraiser where I first broached the idea of AML-List to Levi Peterson and Bob Hogge, called for the development of a Mormon Titerary culture. He compared it to the sports cul- ture already strong among us, which includes professional and college athletes, coaches, referees, fans, sports shops, broadcasts, paraphernalia, pick- ‘up games in parking lots, intermural sports in public schools, little leagues, and parents who ‘coach and drive their kids in minivans and cheer them on, For Mormon literature to thrive, people 107 ineed to be participating on every level. AML-List, by bringing people together, helps that happen, BENSON Y. PARKINSON, a graduate of Brigham Young University in comparative literature, is the author of S, Ditworth Young (American Fork, UT: Covenant, 1994), and The MTC: Set Apart (Salt Lake City: Aspen Books, 1995). A part-time English instructor at Weber State University, he writes full-time and moderates AML-List, an Internet mailing list devoted to the discussion of Mor- ‘mon literature. He and his wife, Robin, have five children ‘and live in South Ogden, Utah WORKS CITED Note; Parenthetical references are to the AML-List Archive. ‘This electronic document is available on CD-ROM through libraries. Each new volume contains all the previous volumes. The archive can also be found on the World Wide Web at: hitp:/ec. weber edul~byparkinson/aml-list.html NOTE Booth, Wayne C. “Why Do Mormon Writers Find It So Hard to Climb Parnassus?” AML Annual 1996. Ed Lavina Fielding Anderson. Salt Lake City: Associaton for Mormon Letters, 1996. 8-19. 108