Canadian Mennonite
Volume 6, number 4
February 25, 2002

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Rudy Wiebe, Sweeter Than All the World. Knopf Canada, 2001, 434pp.

Hard to say whether this is one of Wiebe's finest novels, but this is one of his most ambitious, both structurally and thematically.

The novel is a kind of family saga spanning almost 500 years of the Wiebe/Loewen clan, spread over four continents, and as such it could easily sink under a burden of episode after episode, amid a clutter of historical background. And the task of filling such a huge canvass with dramatically compelling characters is onerous. Wiebe's solution to these problems may seem quirky to some readers, brilliant to others.

The central character, Adam Wiebe, is both a lapsed medical doctor and a lapsed Mennonite, determined to enjoy the pleasures that his status and his charm offer him, but all too aware that his success has not made him immune to a more exacting judgment. Plopped into the novel are gruesome accounts of martyrdom and persecution in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, told directly by those who witnessed or endured them.

What holds all this together is Adam Wiebe's increasing obsession with the suffering and courage of his ancestors, especially as recorded in The Martyrs Mirror, which he seems to have always by him. Adam seems to be trying to get a monkey off his back, but apparently it is not so easy to stop being a Mennonite.

In an interview, Sheilagh Rogers of CBC's Morningside, asked Wiebe if the novel is autobiographical. Wiebe conceded that there are many parallels between his life and Adam's, "but he is certainly not me." So that settles that, as ambiguously as ever.

Not all of the early accounts of suffering are equally compelling. Sometimes the dialogue is forced into service to explain the issues or provide local ambience until the characters begin to sound like a textbook. Two learned characters chatting enthusiastically about that new invention, the telescope, end up sounding like a commercial.

However, there is no such problem in the third chapter, one of the most moving in the novel, where an illiterate daughter of a Dutch fisherman/farmer tells the story of her mother who was brutally interrogated and burned at the stake in 1527. The dialogue is poignant, and the laconic record of the mother's interrogation bristles with tension, wit and suppressed rage.

Apparent awkwardness

Sometimes the apparent awkwardness may be deceptive. In chapter 8, Enoch Seeman, a Mennonite painter, makes a dramatic entrance. His voice comes across the centuries with the authority of a vast perspective, but it sounds a bit cranky and smug. The pattern is too familiar. Enoch's father and grandfather, both painters, are clearly pained by the Mennonite community's rejection of them. But not Enoch. He knows too well that history has proved him right, and consequently his account seems contrived to illustrate his own vindication, and to vindicate our present esteem for art.

But we can't help noticing that Enoch will paint anything for money. He had been hounded into exile by the elders, but it is not clear that he became a better painter when he stopped being a Mennonite. The smugness in his voice may be more appropriate than we thought, and the exploration of the (creative?) tension between the artist and his community more subtle than we expected.

These accounts do begin to arrange themselves into a kind of iconography of a "people," capable of illuminating the later suffering and grim triumphs of post-revolutionary Russia, and, at times, darkening the comforts and pleasures of the present. In uneasy relation to this iconography of suffering for the faith is Adam Wiebe, who has not yet suffered greatly, who is free to visit all those places from which his ancestors fled in terror, whose faith is judiciously balanced among competing interests, and who is therefore of no mind to chain himself to any stake, even one that may promise love and companionship.

One of the most telling images is of Adam Wiebe in a luxurious hotel near the Czech border, cozily huddled in bed with his gorgeous mistress and his copy of The Martyrs Mirror. This does give the novel a certain edge.

In the part of the novel, the focus is on the experiences of Adam's relatives in Soviet Russia, and the tensions within his family. Here any quirkiness in the narration disappears, or else goes unnoticed. The plot and the blood thicken as Adam is driven to find relatives who can fill in the darker shadows in his family's history.

And they do, with candour and conviction. Wiebe boldly renders their language in their own idiom, without making them sound unduly pious or making their rather literal faith appear naive. Not many contemporary writers could have pulled this off.

Many readers will recognize passages that are vintage Rudy Wiebe. There is the vivid evocation of the North, the strong women, and the exquisite satirical jabs. Wiebe has earned an attentive public upon whom he can place some strenuous demands. Over the last 40 years he has chronicled our faith and culture, from those repressed, close-knit rural communities when elders could spot evidence of lipstick or a swollen tummy on the back row of the balcony, to the present, when we are more likely to be shunned for failing to separate our garbage.

His novels, beginning with Peace Shall Destroy Many in 1962, have become landmarks for us. So vaut nu? (What now?) This novel seems to ask whether we are worthy heirs of the suffering, conviction and courage of our ancestors.

-Erwin Wiens

The reviewer teaches English literature at Heritage College in Hull, Quebec.

A Walk to Remember

I took my daughter to this movie the day before she turned 18. She didn't mind going with her Dad, knowing that soon she will be off to university and opportunities like this will become less frequent.

The movie takes place in the southern United States, based on a novel by Nicholas Spark. The male protagonist is a handsome, popular high school senior played by Shane West. The female lead, Jamie Sullivan, acted by Mandy Moore, is the local Baptist minister's daughter. The stage seems set for stereotypes; fortunately, they do not materialize.

The Baptist congregation is mixed race. Jamie may be a preacher's kid, but she reveals another side of herself in the school play that has lasting impact. And it is Jamie that teaches the popular boy how to dance.

The movie is sweet but not cloying. Rev. Sullivan is forced to practise what he preaches. Jamie is not perfect, but she holds fast to her faith, influencing others by her witness. Now I am introducing words the movie doesn't. After all, this isn't some Billy Graham youth film-it is "Hollywood."

But this movie can restore our "faith" in the entertainment industry. Here is a mainstream feature that doesn't compromise faith and values. I recommend it without reservation. I would show it to my high school Sunday School class and will recommend it for the Values Group at the Child and Adolescent Treatment Centre where I practise.

A Beautiful Mind

A movie about a great mind, a Nobel Prize winner no less, promises to be stimulating. This film does fulfill that expectation. It is based on the life of John Nash, a Princeton University mathematician.

The centre of attention is not Nash's accomplishments but what is happening with his mind. This is portrayed so well that viewers will have trouble distinguishing what is "real."

Nash acquired schizophrenia and the movie shows what can happen in the course of this illness: the toll on the individual and the family, the results of non-compliance with treatment. Unfortunately, the depiction of past psychiatric treatments won't lessen the stigma that still surrounds mental illness. Visual hallucinations are not typical of most schizophrenic illnesses, but it would be difficult, and certainly far less dramatic, to portray delusions of the mind.

The real beauty of Nash's mind is that once he gained insight into his illness, it appeared he was able to overcome it to a major degree, and even treat it with humour.

An academic might seem to be a far cry from a gladiator, but actor Russell Crowe handles both demands well. His use of language and even his facial expressions wonderfully depict the different world of the mentally ill, or is it the uncommon world of the genius?

-Lorne Brandt

My mother used to make me milkshakes by blending raw egg, sugar and vanilla. Then my sister moved to California and learned the wonders of smoothies, just putting a variety of frozen fruit in the blender. The perfect combination of the two is the "licuado," or frozen fruit milkshake.

Experts say one of the reasons it is good to cook with your children is because measuring teaches them math skills. That's true, but what I love about making milkshakes with my kids is the fun of letting them shake as much nutmeg and cinnamon into the blender as they think might taste good. They have been known to go overboard, but that's all part of the learning experience.

Another advantage to these milkshakes is that they are an easy way to add fruit to your child's diet. And those not-so-great-tasting dietary supplements, like soy powder or flaxseed oil, can be easily hidden in one of these milkshakes.

Milkshake recipes are so simple that children learn them easily. My three-year-old, Mario, had all the ingredients memorized before he could say "vanilla." Children love standing on a stool and getting to press buttons on a blender, but parents need to be careful. I tell the children not to press any buttons until the top is in on, just so we don't end up with milk and frozen fruit all over the kitchen. I don't even plug the blender in until it's all loaded.

Depending on how powerful your blender is you might want to chop up the bananas and strawberries. Be sure to do that out of reach of little hands.
This is the recipe that we've settled on. Feel free to change it based on what fruit is handy.

Load up your blender with the following:
2 frozen bananas
1 cup frozen strawberries
2 cups of milk
2 tablespoons orange juice
A dash of cinnamon
A dash of nutmeg
1 tsp vanilla

Blend on high until it's smooth, and serve immediately. It's especially good when children are hot, hungry and thirsty.

-Rebecca Thatcher

The author, who attends Austin Mennonite Church in Texas, writes a monthly column on cooking with children.