Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Rhoda Janzen Returns to Her Roots in Mennonite in a Little Black Dress

They say you can never go home again. However, in Mennonite in a Little Black Dress, Rhoda Janzen chronicles the time she did just that. She had long left her conservative Mennonite childhood behind her as she embraced academia and the world at large. But after a personal crisis of epic proportions, she returned to her California hometown for an extended visit with her parents, and she found that going back wasn’t so bad after all.

I’d heard of Mennonite in a Little Black Dress and even skimmed the first couple of pages, but it was the recommendation of a friend, herself the author of a memoir, that convinced me to read it. It only took a few pages for Janzen’s witty prose to leave me in stitches. More than anything, this book made me laugh. But it’s also very poignant, and however many teasing remarks she may make about embarrassing Mennonite food and puzzling traditions, her affection for that way of life and especially for the people who live it is very real.

Like most memoirs I’ve read, Janzen’s doesn’t follow much of a linear path. We hop around a lot, going back to her childhood and to her years with her husband Nick, whose departure was one of the events precipitating her need to return home and regroup. A recent memory will lead to a related story, sometimes from her own life, sometimes an anecdote passed down by someone else. Each chapter has a theme to which everything in it ultimately connects; as someone prone to tangents, it was fun for me to make those invisible connections in my mind as I read. There’s a definite logic to what she discusses when she does, but it’s not always obvious how each story fits in.

Janzen’s memoir is filled with colorful characters, none more so than her mother, a nurse who is perpetually cheerful, practical and hard-working. Some of her quirks, like her tendency to burst into snippets of old hymns when she hears one of the words therein and her fondness for discussing bodily functions at the dinner table, elicit chuckles, but mostly, we’re left with the impression that this is a truly wonderful woman who has made a powerful, positive impact upon her family and her community.

Janzen’s mother feels very old-fashioned, as does her father, who keeps more of a distance but has a habit of summoning his family members to the computer to see the latest schmaltzy e-mail forward he’s received. Most of Rhoda’s peers seem more in step with modern society, so there’s a smattering of profanity and off-color talk that isn’t limited to the portions of the memoir dealing with her life outside this quiet town. There are times, during talks with her sister or sister-in-law or childhood friends, when it feels a bit like Sex and the City: The Mennonite Edition.

What attracted me most were the passages reminiscing about the ups and downs of growing up in such a distinct way of life, as well as anything involving her mother, who bubbles over with warmth and wholesome humor. I learned a lot about Mennonites from Janzen’s wry observations. She even devotes a chapter to Mennonite history and offers a semi-serious primer on modern Mennonite beliefs and practices. Mostly, though, it comes through more organically, and the sense I got was that while she considers many of the traditions quaint, she also takes a certain pride in them. And I definitely got the impression that she came to a deeper respect for the people of this community when they welcomed her so warmly after her largely loveless marriage ended. I could feel her cynicism ebbing away. This is perhaps best expressed in the fifth chapter, A Lingering Finish, which deals largely with the contrasts between her marriage and her sister’s. Midway through the chapter, she notes, “There was a time in my life – sadly, not so long ago – when quickness of mind seemed more important than kindness.”

Janzen is a writer who exhibits both of these qualities, balancing cleverness with real appreciation for the traditions, experiences and especially people who have shaped her life. Sometimes you can go home again. I’m very glad she did.

No comments:

Post a Comment