"...the only brotherhood they belonged to was the one that asked that enduring question: How do I get through the next twenty minutes? They feared drys, cops, jailers, bosses, moralists, crazies, truth-tellers, and one another. they loved storytellers, liars, whores, fighters, singers, collie dogs that wagged their tails, and generous bandits. Rudy, thought Francis: he's just a bum, but who ain't?"Believe it or not, this is the flower known as Ironweed. Known more for its incredibly strong stem than it is for its lacy purple petals, you won't find this roadside weed on any dining room tables. However, this is the perfect introduction to the book that bears its name.
William Kennedy published Ironweed in 1983 and won the Pulitzer for it a year later, in 1984. You find it surprising to learn, however, that such a noteworthy work was almost never published. The last in his series of works depicting Depression-era Albany, Ironweed was rejected by eleven major publishing houses before Viking Press agreed to print it, bring unprecedented fame to the streets of Albany, New York.
Whether I am a better person for its publication or not, I can check it off the list. A glowing review, right? In all honesty, I wasn't in the mood for a realist depiction of survival, and perhaps I picked the wrong season to read Ironweed. During this season of Joy and Thanksgiving, reading about a struggling bum on the streets of Depression-era Albany is a far cry from It's a Wonderful Life. There is, however, a glimmer of hope, and I think that is the only thing that kept me plugging along. (At this point, I am sure that I have lost you to a Barnes and Noble search engine, looking to order your own copy.)
The main character is a bum named Frances Phelan, a native of Albany returning after 22 years on the run. As a heavy indicator of what lies ahead, the book starts in the cemetery, in which Frances is trying to earn a few dollars by digging and filling in graves with his friend Rudy. We learn early that Frances is a man not only trying to survive the cold winters of the north but also survive his past.
Responsible for the death of his infant son, a scab trolley driver, and a few others along the way, Frances is haunted by the images and people of his past. Is this the sign of a man unwell? It is really left to the reader to decide, but it is clear that in order for him to stay in Albany, Frances will have to confront and overcome his demons.
The rest I will leave up to you, dear readers. I am ready to put this read behind me and move on to more uplifting thoughts. Up next, Breathing Lessons by Anne Tyler, winner of the Pulitzer in 1989.
Until then... Happy Reading.
