'David’s belief in nonviolence is challenged by the second world war and the violent assaults on the community he is building.' Photo: Book cover of David Jordan, by Ronald Kirkbride
David Jordan, by Ronald Kirkbride
Author: Ronald Kirkbride. Review by John Lampen
Many Quaker libraries have an old copy of this book. I expect it has not been borrowed for years, although the cover proclaims it as ‘the great Quaker novel of our time’. My copy came from the Bogside in Derry, where a paramilitary drew my attention to it. I’m glad he did.
It is an old-fashioned chronicle, covering the thirty years from 1921 in the life of a Quaker family. The narrator, a boy at the beginning, tells how his father is led to leave his profession as a Pennsylvanian banker and buy a smallholding in rural South Carolina, which is still gripped by the legacy of slavery and plantation. He wants to model new ways of doing things, both scientifically (in livestock management and crop rotation) and socially (paying his workers fair wages, and providing them with vegetable gardens, medical care, and a school). His initiatives meet powerful and violent opposition from the local landowners. He is murdered by a vigilante group when he defends black workers trying to form a union. But eventually the family farm becomes the heart of a growing working community, a co-operative venture which, after many setbacks, wins over or buys out its opponents to become the largest economic force in the district. Quaker and ecological values are brought into the worlds of production and commerce.
The book also gives a moving account of David’s own maturation – his struggles, sexuality and love. He and those around him are vividly pictured. One memorable moment captures his glimpse of his sister-in-law bathing naked, an encounter with beauty that involves no lasciviousness.
Quaker themes of generosity, simplicity, peace and sacrifice are explored in real-life contexts. David’s belief in nonviolence is challenged by the second world war and the violent assaults on the community he is building. It causes a gap between him and his wife Nina, whose values at first are contrary to his own. Step by step she comes to share some of his beliefs, but never quite enough to bind them together. When she leaves him, he is drawn to two very different women, and the resulting loyalties and difficulties provide another engrossing strand of the story.
Social and personal themes are linked by the way that David and his family try to base their actions on Quaker values. For them, faith is shown in the way they live, and it cannot be achieved without debate and conflict. Even his mother and sister, the most ‘centred’ family members, are not immune. The book explores how our decisions always impinge on other people; yet for all our love and empathy, in the end they are unknowable and we are each alone.
Is there a ‘great Quaker novel’? Some point to Jan de Hartog’s The Peaceable Kingdom, but I find it unconvincing. So David Jordan has a strong claim – for its analysis of social and economic alternatives, its vivid portraits, its lovely descriptions of the natural world, and its relevance to dilemmas we face today. Is there a neglected copy in your Meeting library?
