"What it does not heal, time hardens."
―Brothers of the Heart: A Story of the Old Northwest, 1837-1838, P. 45
"Courage is born of fear, she said. Where no fear exists...there is no need of courage."
―Brothers of the Heart, PP. 86-87
It's interesting how the public's expectations for an author rise when he or she is awarded the Newbery Medal. It causes readers to look at all of the author's other works, both past and future, in a different light, seeing them not just as ordinary novels, but products of a mind capable of writing a Newbery Medal-winning story. I freely admit to having this thought process myself, and for me, at least, I think that it's a good thing. Brothers of the Heart is one of many books that I likely would never have gotten around to reading if the author had not won the Newbery Medal (for A Gathering of Days: A New England Girl's Journal, 1830-32, awarded the 1980 Newbery), and so often I've been introduced to fantastic books in this way. Joan W. Blos is an expressive, intelligent writer and makes good use of metaphor throughout Brothers of the Heart, weaving her writer's wisdom into the narrative to give us a better understanding of the characters and their actions.
Times are hard in the northwest region of the United States in 1837. No one seems to have money to spare, but things are especially difficult for Shem Perkins, born with a lame leg to parents who can't afford medical treatment. As determinedly as he tries to pull his own weight, Shem's slowness on the trail is often an impediment to his family, but there's nothing that any of them can do about it. One day when the situation comes to a boil, though, as Shem's father sneers at the boy's attempt to do something that could have been of major financial aid to the family, Shem decides that he's had enough of being a fifth wheel among his own kin, and sets off to begin a life of his own. At age fourteen, Shem is now totally responsible for taking care of himself, and he'll soon find that there are few sympathizers to his plight out there in the real world.
Shem's journey toward understanding his own unique abilities and figuring out how to overcome his physical deficiencies is a long and arduous one, influenced by people both mean and gentle, uncaring and kind. It's not until he happens upon a cabin in the woods and meets the ailing Mary Goodhue, though, that Shem finally begins his own healing process, learning how to open up about the painful experiences of his past and figure out how to set them right. Mary provides words of wisdom when Shem needs it, a listening ear when his emotions overwhelm and confuse him and he needs someone to help sort them out, and encouragement to take action on his convictions when Shem realizes that it's his turn to make the next move. Shem has lost a lot in his life, and the limitations imposed by his crippled leg are never going to be fair, but that doesn't mean he can't live just as full a life as any regular person if he's willing to work with what he has and not speculate on what could have been. Shem still has the chance to write his life story the way he wants it to go, if only he can summon the courage to pick up the pen and start writing.
While Joan W. Blos's books tend to start out slowly, the content of the story is always solid, and the narrative picks up after a while as one becomes familiar with the characters and historical setting. Brothers of the Heart has a very realistic, almost gritty feel about it, more as if one were reading a nonfiction book of letters written by actual pioneers than a novel of historical fiction. In fact, up until I read the "Author's Note" at the end of the book I wasn't fully sure if the letters were real or not, but they are, in fact, the fictional work of Joan W. Blos, written to further the plot by adding a variety of perspectives and multiple storytelling angles. All said, I'm sure that fans of markedly realistic historical novels will like Brothers of the Heart, and it is to them that I most recommend it.
"Always there is the one choice to be made: which road to take? which duty to accept? which item, amidst a store's displays, to purchase as our own? The paths of the past parts of our lives are strewn with things not chosen. One believes, nay, one is taught, that choice provides fulfillment of desire. In truth, however, relinquishment and loss enter in to the bargain every single time. Loss looks over the shoulders of fair choice. For every thing one chooses, some thing is left behind."
―Brothers of the Heart, PP. 115-116, excerpt from a letter written by John Hall, dated September 10, 1837