GOLDEN RAINTREE 4TH OF JULY NOSTALGIA

This 21^st Century I sometimes find myself reflecting on 20^th Century life, even 19^th Century remnants carried over that I encountered when young – the General Store, the place to shop in my grandmother's and aunt's small villages; the gazebo in the town’s “center” on a weekend afternoon where a small group of local musicians played the “oom pah pah” music rhythms carried over from the previous era. 

Patriotic holidays like July 4th celebrating Independence Day attracted the entire community to either participate in, or cheer on the school's marching band augmented by a few old-timers parading down the center of town.   Colorful red, white and blue stars and stripes flags waved by onlookers then, in my Midwest state neighboring that of the golden raintree, fluttered everywhere as they continue to do  yearly in these parades. including where I live now on the Pacific's West Coast in Southern California. 

When I was young, a variety of books, magazines and comic books captured my attention.  In addition to classic books an older relative had received when young, and periodically sent me, I sometimes was also gifted with a brand-new book for my birthday, or at Christmas.  That is how I came to read all about The Bobbsey Twins. 

During my middle to upper elementary school ages we continued to live in town.   I used to ride the city bus down town,  then took only a block’s walk to our local library.   Saturdays, and during the summertime when we had school vacation, to occasionally be permitted to travel alone by bus downtown increased my self-confidence that not only was I trusted, I was capable of taking care of myself.  I'm sure this freedom contributed significantly to my developing an independent nature.

I examined numerous library books, some quite at length, before selecting a few I was permitted to check out.   I recall becoming interested in historical fiction, also at that age I enjoyed Lorna Doone, said to be a romance novel infused with some historical characters.  Probably some of the books I examined I might not have been allowed to check out since I was so young – librarians likely screening to protect my youthful sensibilities. 

I concluded during those pre-teen years that reading big thick books with lots of pages often held more interesting complex stories.   So, I sometimes just wandered down aisles, randomly selecting such hefty books, flipped them open to the middle, then read a few paragraphs.   That’s how I encountered one of the books I read only at the library, Madame Bovary -- also one in which I probably read more paragraphs than in some others.   

My 35 cents a week allowance I spread pretty thin, so I made certain to never have any library late fees.   My mother endeavored teaching me to be selective in my tastes and not squander my limited funds on what she thought would be a waste of my time and money -- such cheap stuff which included most ten cent comic books with superheroes and villains, serial movie matinees at the local theater.   I’ve become a bit more accepting, enjoying those super heroic humorous characters in some recent generations’ movies.  

“True” comic book was an occasional exception because the stories were based on history in Mother's view.   Years later when I was a teen, a comic book that attracted me then was the satirical “Mad” with the “What, Me Worry” boy, Alfred E. Neuman for which she had little appreciation.      

We had by then, years before, left the town of my early years following significant changes in family makeup, location, and financial status.   From my Jr. High through Sr. High School years we lived in what I generously describe as being the “boonies”, or if I desired to present a classier tone I would describe those years as being when we “lived in the country” and the immediately succeeding years when we had “a cottage near a lake.”  Privately, I knew the latter would have been described as more like a shack compared to where we had lived in the Midwest.  I was learning the nuances of language and the situations in which it might be wise to use those more palatable terms.    

I no longer had such ready access to a library, or even to checking books out from school.   My having books to read was quite limited.  Pop was enamored with the book “Scottish Chiefs” by Jane Porter which didn’t capture my interest at the time (he would have liked the years later movie “Brave Heart” about Sir William Wallace).    

Mother’s vision problems had long since developed to a degree she could no longer read most print – large size print books were generally not available.  In fact, I had to read to her the letters she received.   Some years later, I was able to obtain a subscription from the Library of Congress for her to receive by mail the Talking Books, on records then.  They later transitioned to tape before becoming audio books, now digitized, distributed here through the Braille Institute.   

Knowing I missed reading, Mother quickly accepted a new book offered, that I could even keep, when a casual friend wondered if her daughter might like this fictional novel, Raintree County by Ross Lockridge, Jr., her son had earlier received as a book of the month selection.   

Other forms of entertainment from the arts were pretty much absent from my life, except for what I might encounter at school.  I was thrilled to finally see a movie again when our English teacher took us to see “Hamlet” starring Sir Lawrence Oliver’ in a performance which totally mesmerized me – the visual effects when Hamlet encountered his father’s ghost in those black and white film days before technicolor were chilling.   

To say that aspects of my being were starved for nourishment during those years would be an understatement, so when I received Raintree County that summer I became totally immersed in the words and story which captured my imagination.   I tended toward romanticized fantasy despite life's realities.   The over a thousand page novel's conclusion came too soon, did not resolve as I might have wished, but the visualizations conjured in my mind have lingered throughout my life.  

I sometimes thought, I would really like to meet that author and discuss his book with him.  This Wikipedia excerpt describes the world into which I entered, encapsulated in an ethereal environment, entranced, beneath a magnificent golden raintree. 

“The book is often surreal, with dream sequences, flashbacks and departures from the linear narrative. It has been described as an effort to mythologize the history of America, which to a great degree it succeeds in doing through the eyes and the commentary of John Shawnessy. For example, a number of turning points in John's life seem to coincide with Fourth of July celebrations.”

Years later the book was made into a movie that deterred significantly from the novel’s storyline.   I was disappointed that the movie did not do justice to the book, though most movies don’t – two totally different story-telling mediums.    But…that said, I did derive some momentary satisfaction in how the movie concluded their story, even though the ending was altered from the book. 

Nat King Cole sings the movie’s theme, a melancholy harmonica in the background.

The character emphasis in the movie’s created story probably had to do with embroidering the roles played by the stars chosen to play them, especially the female lead, Elizabeth Taylor.    Something similar occurred with a movie that has come to be considered a classic, “To Kill A Mockingbird”, as revealed by the book’s author years later.   In that movie the male lead’s part was beefed up, his character made more idealistic, at the star’s, Gregory Peck’s, insistence, but this was not quite how the author portrayed the character in the book -- or observed the person to be in real life, her father, who served as the model.    In fact, the author said she intended the story to revolve more around the child (actually the author) from whose perspective the story was being told.       

I think my circumstances during 1948, a significant year for multiple reasons, coupled with my youthful mindset, probably had some bearing on why reading Raintree County published that same year affected me as it did then, and why the novel has continued to remain such a nostalgic memory.   Certainly, I’ve read many books since, impacting me emotionally.    I have bookcases filled with print, running the gamut from nonsense to the profound, from little known to some considered among the greatest writing, fiction, nonfiction, biography, autobiography, and much more. 

Why some literature, music, paintings, artistic creations resonate with us at various times in our lives can be very complex.   Our reaction likely has little or nothing to do with how critics may assess a creation, or the general public’s response in popularity.   I wish I could have told Ross Lockridge, Jr. about my reaction to his only book, but I discovered years later that would never be possible.  You see, shortly after the movie was released, the book’s author committed suicide at age 33.   Ever after, I’ve always wondered, why?   

Many years later sharing this with a personal friend, who happened also to be a creative writing teacher, she noted, having read the book, she was not at all surprised he committed suicide.    I never understood what about his story caused her to have this view.   Ironically, a couple decades later she engaged in behaviors she had to have known could and did culminate in her own death, much too early. 

I was reminded of all this a few years after my husband’s death (not a suicide) and I came upon the information Ross Lockridge, Jr.’s son, Larry Lockridge who was only 5 years of age when his father died (coincidentally my age when my father abandoned our family) had written his father’s biography titled In the Shade of the Raintree published in 1994.    The book was re-released a few years ago.  Later, I happened on an Internet free copy offer which I accepted by writing that author a letter and soon received the biography.    

I fully intended to read the son’s book and write about it here, but for some unknown reason, I couldn’t bring myself to start reading the book immediately.   When I did start reading I was pleased to discover the son’s writing to be that of a very polished experienced writer as I later discovered he actually was.   The book is filled with page tabs I placed throughout, as I read words that resonated with me in some way.  Yet, when I finished I still could not quite bring myself to write that blog post. 

The son’s account was very emotionally moving to me – making the acquaintance of one who might have been dear to him though his memories of his father were limited – the descriptive word picture painted of his father’s life – his mentions of possible contributors to depression’s pain.   I thought, too, of the ramifications of life-ending actions on those left to grapple with the consequences.      

Someone I cared for many years ago ended his life.  I learned soon after that his behavior revealed he had become severely depressed.  I was angry to hear those close to him had reacted in the manner  they did, however well-intentioned, but misguidedly inadequate.   He clearly needed professional help -- so much more than they provided.  I recalled words he had said to me many years earlier, in retrospect revealing the seeds of pain that might have portended his possible outcome. 

If only he had not been so idealistic, been less noble, moral or ethical, he might have avoided reaching that low emotional state into which he sank, or maybe it wouldn’t have mattered.  In my sorrow mixed with pain I was angry with him, too.   Why hadn’t he called me?  I could only think of that saying, "the truly good die young".  I felt similarly about my writing teacher friend after being informed of her death.  

I never wrote as I intended about Raintree County, or about In the Shade of the Raintree.  I never wrote Larry Lockridge to tell him how much I appreciated his writing about his father -- to thank him again for the biography.   Often when the 4^th of July comes around, thoughts and visions of the book’s mystical golden raintree flash through my mind much as Ross Lockridge, Jr.’s words first planted that mental imagery.      

Movie clip of Montgomery Clift (hero John Shawnessy) and Lee Marvin (Orville “Flash” Perkins) in 4^th of July race culminating with Elizabeth Taylor (Susanna Drake) and Eva Marie Saint (Nell Gaither) HERE.