70 pages • 2 hours read
William Kent KruegerA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
One task Krueger sets Ordinary Grace with is capturing postwar life in the Midwestern small town. In 1961, New Bremen still retains the rose-colored glasses of 1950s, postwar optimism felt across much of the country. The impending counterculture of the 60s is largely absent; here, in rural Minnesota, we have a community that still doesn’t lock their doors, and where everyone seems to largely know everyone else.
There are multiple moments in the novel where characters gaze out from the bank of the river or the railroad trestle, toward the highway in the distance. Two takeaways from this repeated gaze are 1) the impending demise of towns on rail lines, and 2) the (also-impending) out-migration by many youths from communities like New Bremen.
While rail towns are what allowed much of the Upper Midwest and Great Plains to be as populatedby Anglos in the first place (with rail companies, the century prior, promising homes and land to especially German and Scandinavian families, who might find the climate less than foreboding), Eisenhower’s Interstate System would, in turn, spell the end of the livelihood of many of these towns, with highways—and interstate shipping—mitigating the worth of transport by rail. With new and faster routes, towns left off the path of the interstate system could only watch and recede.
Added to this is the notion that within a few years, towns like New Bremen would have seen their populations of young decrease substantially, due to two main things: 1960s counterculturalism and the Vietnam War. Either drawn to a different way of thinking and place, or drafted away to a different continent, by 1971, places like New Bremen would see their median age substantially elevate.
It’s telling, then, that three of the four people who die in Ordinary Grace are young people: Bobby Cole, Ariel Drum, and Karl Brandt all perish before or just after turning eighteen. While they very literally will no longer be a part of the New Bremen community, it seems that there’s a better-than-good chance that all three would never resettle in New Bremen, once having left. In this way, their literal deaths are also social commentary on the postwar generations of young people who leave small, Midwestern hometowns for better opportunities and return only to visit, if ever. (Indeed, both Frank and his father wind up in the Twin Cities.) In Ordinary Grace, we see an example of the fading glow of the postwar 50s staring directly into the headlights of what the 60s will bring to such communities.
If there is a chief way that the New Bremen community is decoupled, it’s through those that are white, working-class, and devout, and those who are not. The Drums are certainly an example of the former: the father is the town minister, and the family is far from well-off. So is the case for the residents of the Flats, that non-affluent portion of New Bremen that comprises its moral majority, and figuratively legislates the town’s unwritten moral code, the foundation of which is xenophobia. The fear of otherness is a thread running through the fabric of the novel, and anyone who is other winds up in one of two roles: victim or suspect. Bobby Cole is developmentally-disabled, and therefore other, and the novel’s first victim. The book’s second victim, the Skipper, is an itinerant who presumably sleeps rough on the bank of the river, and also not part of the community. Ariel Drum is a member of the moral majority until she becomes pregnant out of wedlock, which challenges her majority status postmortem; further, her impending move to Juilliard and the possibilities her time at the school will afford her move her toward outlier status. Karl Brandt, the summer’s last death, is both wealthy and gay, and therefore also an outlier.
The same can be said for those accused of Ariel’s murder at various times over the course of the book. Redstone is made other through being Dakota Sioux. Karl Brandt, as described above, is made into outlier by first his wealth and then his sexuality. Morris Engdahl, in his role as perpetual outcast and town tough, certainly lies outside majority status. Emil Brandt, who states he is non-religious, is made other by his sight impairment, disfigurement, musical abilities, and wealth. Lise Brandt, Ariel’s actual killer, is deaf, and, as such, cannot participate in New Bremen society.
All of these victims and/or suspects have direct or indirect ties to nature. Bobby Cole is killed outdoors, on the trestle, presumably while staring off at the river. The Skipper uses nature and natural resources in order to survive. Ariel Drum’s corpse is found in the river, and Karl Brandt kills himself by driving his roadster into a tree. Redstone is most commonly shown on the bank of the river, Engdahl’s most important scene happens at a swimming hole, and Lise Brandt—and, by extension, Emil—live in a house that is virtually overgrown with beds of flowers. While it’s true that one “majority” character, Gus, would seem to have some ties to the land, through his work as a gravedigger and his connection to Ginger French, the woman who owns the horse ranch, the act of grave digging still lies in service of religion, and the horse ranch itself is outside New Bremen city limits, and therefore not literally or figuratively tied to the town’s rules. Further, barring Ariel Drum, none of the above characters have any ties to organized religion that the reader is made aware of: Cole, Redstone, Engdahl and the Brandts never appear in church, save for Emil’s brief appearance for Ariel’s funeral (he does not stay long or talk to anyone). Krueger, then, uses whiteness, Christianity and being middle class as markers for normalcy in New Bremen; those who do not possess such traits are consistently cast out or cast off. Indeed, even Ruth Drum, once she questions both her faith and her marriage, effectively disappears from the narrative for short while, returning only after Jake’s speech impedimentmiraculously vanishes while saying grace in church, at his sister’s funeral service.
Each member of the Drum family, at some point in the novel, has their faith in a higher power, namely the Christian god, tested. Nathan Drum’s faith remains resolute over the course of the book, and it’s his fair-temperedness that most exemplifies the positive aspects of Christian virtues. Ruth Drum, by contrast, all but admits that she doesn’t believe in Nathan’s deity to Frank, while on the train trestle; while she grudgingly takes part in the church’s musical components, her faith is absent, perhaps in part due to the fact that Ruth grew up in New Bremen, and, when younger, had hoped to escape the figurative boundaries that small-town Christian values had placed around her. Ariel Drum’s pregnancy out of wedlock effectively places her outside the rules and regulations of traditional Christian values, a fact that she weeps over at least once in the novel; additionally, she is killed in the yard of Emil and Lise Brandt, two characters who can be viewed as faithless. Jake Drum, by contrast, retains his belief in God until Ariel is killed, at which point he questions his beliefs. Once he says grace—an act that implicitly restores his belief—his speech impediment is miraculously cured. Frank Drum, the book’s narrator, has perhaps the most complicated relationship with the Christian god of any of the Drum family, repeatedly calling into question why such a deity would do what it does, but at the same time still seemingly believing in said deity throughout the book.
By William Kent Krueger