Blog on the Lillypad
Thursday, July 22, 2004
 | A Separate Peace by John Knowles
One of my colleagues at work remarked that her son has to read this book for honors English in the Orange County school system. Prompted by guilt over never having read it, I decided I ought to get a copy and see what I have been missing. Her son has complained that the book is dull, and I was ready to bypass such a comment as being entirely typical of a teenagte boy. Well, I stand corrected. A Separate Peace *is* really boring. It has a point, and several qualities commend it. But the fact is, quick pacing and engaging narrative are not Knowles' strong points. |
Some novels begin with memorablel first lines: "Call Me Ishmael"; "Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents"; "It was the best of times; it was the worst of times". But A Separate Peace isn't one of those novels. Indeed, the very worst chapter of the book is the first chapter. Get through that monolith of tedious description about a place you care nothing about, and things can only improve.
And they do improve. The primary saving grace of the book is the character Phineas. Its other saving grace is the commentary it offers on how we cope with tragedies, impending fears, and even our own personal responsibilities. And in terms of its constant selection as a classic for high school kids, A Separate Peace offers a strong theme of Redemption with echoes from the Scripture. Take a look at the clothing switches that go on in the book, and how each character begins to assume the roles or virtues of the character whose clothing he wears. This idea of putting on the righteousness of another, or putting off the old nature, or putting on a form of glory (as old as the story of Jonathon and David from the Old Testament) ties in strongly with redemption. At one level, Phineas is certainly a Christ-figure in the story. At another, he is a victim of his own efforts to live life so strictly on his own terms that he literally collapses before harsh reality. A good English teacher can do a lot with such simple and universal themes.
Regrettably (and I do feel for those high school kids who drag themselves through this), the book relies upon reference points that no longer exist. It's set in a prep school, where a certain culture lingers. But on modern readers, the horror of wearing the school tie as a belt will be lost; having tea with the masters will fail to convey the impending doom should any character make a false step.
No character in the story is wiley or clever or able to outwit circumstances. Even Phineas is far more creative and imaginative than outright heroic. His low-key approach to dismissing his own honors is not offset by higher aspirations. Phineas never does overcome the harsh realities of life.
And no character in the story is well drawn. The narrative emphasizes Phineas' grace and energy to the point that Knowles commits the crime of overwriting: the more he describes it, the less vivid and convincing it becomes. Leper is probably the most believable, but even his fall occurs without preface, preparation, or explanation. The trial scene that occurs among the boys appears from no where. Why the initiator of this final fiasco would even bother to put the two boys on trial is never explained. How he is able to corral a small mob to conmvey Phineas and Gene to the setting of the trial also remains a mystery.
Knowles was a Yale man. He wrote as a Yale man from another era. In his day, when a Yale man penned a book, people took the time to read it. Ivy League graduates had something to say. And there is a pontificating quality to A Separate Peace that cinches it as a dated book of another era. The descriptive passages fail to seize reader imagination; rather, they are simply layer after layer of description: adjectives piled onto each other in stacks of sentences.
Knowles is telling a story that has something to say, but he is a part of that "Separate Peace" that he describes. His book fails to be competitive and relies upon a certain outworn expectation that we will grasp the world in which he grew up. Yet, not knowing the typical American reader, Knowles fails to engage us, fails to reach over the walls of that ivy league school.
For readers willing to climb over the wall and work through this story, a solid introduction to theme in a novel rewards them. There are probably teenage readers who will experience an awakening of literary analysis skills as they read it and have a great experience with it. Knowles sets out ideas that young minds can grapple with and consider. But I think, overall, the book brings a self consciousness and pomposity of authorial presence that will keep it at arm's length for many, if not most, readers.
