Glen Craney’s THE YANKS ARE STARVING would make a compelling film, of course, but the richness of his prose and the near-four-dimensional portraits we get of each and every character and even the settings here, would ensure that film critics, who would have to compare the movie script with the book, would fault any movie for failing to live up to this deeply felt epic.
Not only does Mr. Craney's powerful writing engage every sense – even touch and smell – this book also inspires the way great literature should, moving us to compassion, even anger, feelings of enduring intensity.
YANKS actually is two books, and Mr. Craney’s structure and Table of Contents tell us so. But it’s not until we get well into Part I that we realize what he’s doing to us and for us. In the first section, he introduces us to actual historical figures and composite characters based on very-real people. While long(ish), the first half takes us all over the country, where we not only meet these people, he makes us want to learn as much about them as we want to know about any intimate friend. And so we fast become caught up in their lives and in the time and settings they’re lived in.
For instance, we meet Ozzie Taylor, a young black man who plays oboe so badly that an early Harlem hero, James Reese Europe, an actual pioneer in early 19th-century ragtime, can barely stand the noise. We meet Anna Raber, a star-crossed Mennonite who’s blackmailed into serving as a nurse in the War to End All Wars. These are those composite characters. We meet Douglas MacArthur, who becomes a contemptible villain. We meet Hap Glassford, the doomed World War I general who, despite his admirable sympathy and even more admirable good humor, runs headlong into power he can’t beat. (My favorite character is Floyd Gibbons, the larger-than-life newspaper reporter-turned-radioman, who turns up just about everywhere with flamboyance and color that make for some of the best passages in the book.) These are just a few of Mr. Craney’s sprawling and brilliantly drawn cast.
In Part II, all of these lives collide. This results in a true and shameful and largely ignored bit of American history, with and ending that's at once tragic, infuriating and, yet, somehow, poignant and hopeful.
Which is precisely why, especially in this book, Mr. Craney sets the standard for some of the country’s finest historical fiction today. This story resonates, indeed. It reminds us that the events here actually happened, and that similar injustices continue to this day: Young Americans are sent to fight and die in horrific wars. They return home broken veterans to power that deserts, even kills, its poor; then as now, the Top 1 percent holds an unbreakable grip that crushes the rest of us.
That this book won’t let us forget that the story in these pages gets told every day in the media actually is what brilliant historical fiction should be. What happened is real, yes, and Mr. Craney forces us to consider history's injustices through his expert scholarship and vivid storytelling. In an equally fascinating dynamic here, it just so happens that one of those injustices is that Glen Craney isn’t, yet, recognized as this country’s preeminent contemporary writer of historical literature.