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<text id=89TT1877>
<title>
July 17, 1989: Deep Currents
</title>
<history>
TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1989
July 17, 1989 Death By Gun
</history>
<article>
<source>Time Magazine</source>
<hdr>
BOOKS, Page 84
Deep Currents
</hdr><body>
<p>By Paul Gray
</p>
<qt> <l>SPARTINA</l>
<l>by John Casey</l>
<l>Knopf; 375 pages; $18.95</l>
</qt>
<p> Stories about seafaring inevitably carry a ballast of
symbolism. Shimmering significance goes with the territory:
people casting off in the little world of a ship, adrift on a
journey at the mercies of the elements and fate. In his second
novel -- twelve years after his critically praised An American
Romance -- John Casey makes it plain on the opening page that
some large issues are going to be entertained. He introduces his
hero, Dick Pierce, in a skiff, floating among the creeks and
inlets of coastal Rhode Island. In paragraph two, Pierce ponders
the marsh grass around him and has an insight: "Only the
spartinas thrived in the salt flood, shut themselves against the
salt but drank the water. Smart grass. If he ever got his big
boat built he might just call her Spartina, though he ought to
call her after his wife."
</p>
<p> These sentences foreshadow nearly everything to come in
Spartina, although just how cleverly Casey tips his hand does
not become clear until much later. Pierce's family once mattered
in this region of Rhode Island, but not any longer. A succession
of bad breaks has "squeezed him up Pierce Creek to an acre of
scrub," where he lives in a ramshackle house with his wife May
and two teenage sons and scrabbles a living as a fisherman.
"He'd had a plan: by age 40 he would be master of a ship. Here
he was at age 40-plus in an 18-foot skiff."
</p>
<p> Pierce's bitterness over his lot in life helps make him its
prisoner. His quick temper has got him fired from jobs that
might have enabled him to buy his boat and independence. Banks
will not lend him money. He has no telephone at home because he
ripped it out of the wall during a fit of anger. He poaches
clams at a neighboring bird sanctuary, more out of orneriness
than hope of profit. And, to complicate his existence still
further, he has fallen into a love affair with Elsie Buttrick,
the local game and fish warden.
</p>
<p> It would seem difficult to root for the success of such an
unpleasant character, but Casey artfully provides good reasons
for doing so. Pierce's "swamp Yankee" pride is based on a
fierce, if sometimes obnoxious, integrity. He does not ask for
anything except the chance to make a decent living at what he
knows best. The world needs seafood, and Pierce has learned
through long experience how to find and catch it. He is, in
fact, an archetypal figure in American literature, the little
guy at odds with big institutions, battling the triumph of
newfangled shoddiness over old traditions. In addition, he
possesses enough self-awareness to recognize and regret his
bursts of bad behavior.
</p>
<p> Can Pierce raise the $10,000 or so required to finish his
boat and get it launched before the whole project sinks under
debt and futility? How will he manage his passionate connection
with Elsie while maintaining his marriage and giving no pain to
his patient, long-suffering wife? Answers eventually arrive, but
not before some spirited narrative interludes: vivid scenes of
hunting and "sticking" swordfish on the high seas, a sexual
encounter that turns into an extended bout of mud wrestling, a
hair-raising attempt to outsail a major hurricane.
</p>
<p> Beneath this busy, engrossing surface, though, Casey traces
deep moral currents. Pierce must try to free his soul from the
hoard of resentments it has accumulated. If the spartina grass
can filter out the salt and be nourished by the water, perhaps
Pierce can accept what he has been given and forget about what
he has lost. This matter remains in doubt almost to the end of
the book. The resolution is worth waiting for, and so are the
pleasures along the way. Here is old-fashioned, full-bodied
fiction with a vengeance: remarkable characters meet and clash
on fields of social class, money and sex. They do not make
novels like this very much anymore; John Casey deserves
gratitude for being stubborn and talented enough to do so and
succeed.
</p>
</body></article>
</text>