‘The Farmer’s Daughter’ by Jim Harrison

  In his fine new book, “The Farmer’s Daughter,” Jim Harrison returns to his favorite literary form, the novella. Longer than a short story, shorter than a novel, a Harrison novella is usually about 100 pages long.
  Sometimes, as with two of the three novellas in this volume, Harrison tells a complete, stand-alone story. But he also has one story he’s been telling for years, with each installment being of novella length. This is the saga of Brown Dog, a half-Indian from northern Michigan who, for my money, is one of the most entertaining characters in literature.
Brown Dog, or B.D., has simple tastes and needs. His life revolves around food, women and nature. Modern-day complexity is bewildering to him. He isn’t much interested in cities or technology, always preferring the great outdoors to the comforts of life that most of us take for granted.
  That said, B.D. often finds himself caught in contemporary troubles, from brushes with the law to single fatherhood. The results are typically comical, as B.D.’s old-fashioned worldview often exposes the absurdities of modern life.
  In this fifth installment of Brown Dog’s story, after the excruciating passage of a large kidney stone, he asks the doctor, “Will I ever love again?” The doctor replies, “It might be a few days.”
  As often happens after his misadventures, Brown Dog returns to his beloved U.P. of Michigan. As soon as possible, he’s out the door with his fishing pole to spend some quality time away from people and machines. Finding the peace that has eluded him for months, B.D. “lapsed into a state much envied by the ancients. He thought of nothing for an hour and merely absorbed the landscape, the billions of green buds in thousands of acres of trees surrounding him. Here and there were dark patches of conifers amid the pale green hardwoods and far off to the south a thin blue strip of Lake Michigan. He had never thought a second of the word ‘meditation’ and this made it all the easier because he was additionally blessed with no sense of self-importance or personality which are preoccupations of upscale people. Within a minute he was an extension of the stump he sat upon.”
  Brown Dog is a Thoreau for the 21st century. In a recent interview with BookReporter, Harrison explained why he keeps coming back to Brown Dog: “I grew up with characters similar to him and know a number of them now in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. The attitudes of Brown Dog are my survival mechanism in a world in which I most often feel out of place.”
  In the other two novellas, Harrison tackles the classic coming-of-age story. “The Farmer’s Daughter” traces the teenage years of a smart and independent-minded girl raised in relative seclusion on a Montana ranch. When the young teen, Sarah, is drugged and sexually assaulted, she secretly plots to murder her assailant. But in the meantime, she grows into a vibrant young beauty, eager to experience the world and pursue her passions.
  “The Games of Night” is a boy’s coming-of-age story that surely bears no resemblance to the modest adventure yarns our parents plucked from the school library. In this story, by age 12 the boy already has experienced sexual activity with a neighbor girl his age and with a woman his mother’s age. Joining his ornithologist father on a birding expedition in Mexico, the boy is bitten by an abandoned wolf pup, an event that changes his life forever. Think “Team Jacob” and you’ll get the idea.
  I took the lycanthropic turn of events in “The Games of Night” literally, but some readers have suggested a metaphorical or unreliable narrator device at play here. Either way, Harrison effectively explores the animal appetites that all humans struggle with emotionally and intellectually.
  In both stories, the young people, something like the Peanuts cartoon characters, experience the cruelties and pleasures of life largely separate from their clueless parents. Sometimes, Harrison’s storytelling veers into unrealistic and perhaps uncomfortable territory. For example, was it really necessary for the boy in “The Games of Night” to be a mere 12 years old when he has a rampant affair with a grown woman? Would it have ruined the story for the kid to have been at least 16?
  Still, the most compelling thing about Harrison’s fiction is the unique way he puts together words and thoughts. Also a poet, he has a disdain for the common use of commas. But it’s more than that. Rather than plagiarize myself, here’s what I wrote in my review of his 2008 novel “The English Major”: “It’s not that Harrison’s plots are thrilling or that his characters are particularly well drawn. With Harrison, it’s all about voice. His distinctive voice emerges from every sentence, every paragraph of his prose.”
  Also: “Reading ‘The English Major’ is kind of like lounging on a screen porch listening to a wise old storyteller. The old guy has interesting stories and digressions and he relates them with humor and grace. It may not amount to a whole lot, but the time flies by, and when it’s over you don’t for a second feel you’ve wasted your time.”
  These descriptions apply equally to “The Farmer’s Daughter.”
  Harrison is probably best known for his 1979 novella “Legends of the Fall,” which was made into a popular film. But late in life — he’s 72 — Harrison has been particularly prolific. He has brought out works of fiction in 2004 (“True North”), 2005 (“The Summer He Didn’t Die”), 2007 (“Returning to Earth”), 2009 (“The English Major”) and, of course, the latest title this year. He also has produced three books of poetry during that span.
  All of Harrison’s recent fiction is good but I’m partial to his novellas. It’s a wonderful literary form that Harrison alone appears to be keeping alive.
  A final note: A compendium of the Brown Dog stories, including a new sixth installment, is expected to be published in the next year or two.