And now here is yet another unpublished manuscript, sent my way for my enjoyment and edification.

When Martindale's manuscript arrived in the mail, I opened the heavy package (99,000 words can weigh quite a bit!) with anticipation. What could this possibly be about?

My first hint came on page 1, as we are introduced to the protagonist of "Brother Brigham," Cory Horace (C.H.) Young, a great-great-grandson of Brigham Young. He remembers when, as a lad, his father once took him past the statue of Brigham that stands behind the admin building at BYU. He asks his son:

"Want to see Brigham Young do the funky chicken?"

"What?"

"Here, get on my back." His father hefted him up into piggy-back position. "Now I'll run past, and you watch the statue's legs. It will look like Brigham Young is dancing."

His father took off, running past the front of the statue about a hundred feet away. C.H. loved how playful his father could be. He couldn't imagine the fathers of some of his friends doing anything like this.

C.H. twisted his neck sideways to look at the statue. The light from the windows of the administration building flashed between Brigham's slightly parted legs, and it looked like he was wiggling them back and forth, bending at the knees. Doing the funky chicken.

Such beginnings signal one of two things -- either a (perhaps funny) spoof of Mormon life and culture, or a mean-spirited vision of what being a Mormon is all about. Or, perhaps, a third option -- an amusing look at how religion, and Mormonism in particular, can saturate your life and affect the decisions you make.

Take C.H. for example. Not particularly fond of his name, he early on decided that C.H. should stand for "Cain Hell." And so he is known from that day on by his wife and others in on the joke. "Cain" is a manager at a local bookstore, barely earning enough to support his wife and two children. To all appearances, this is the typical Mormon family, wholesome, happy and pure.

And then one day C.H. has a vision -- his great-great-grandfather, Brigham Young, appears to him, with an astounding announcement! The President of the Church is going to be taken, and the Presidency given to C.H.! But first he must re-institute the practice of plural marriage.

And so starts an astounding journey, taking C.H. from the comforts of normalcy to a maddening and unbelievable trek toward madness.

As the story develops, Martindale explores what I can only describe as the outer limits of human behavior, the propensity of mortals to crave acceptance and deliverance, no matter what the cost. In C.H.'s desire to obey "Brother Brigham," his life is so utterly changed, his family so radically affected, that one wonders how anyone could make such an adjustment with a sound mind.

But Martindale writes between the lines, subtly asking questions: is this *really* crazy? Is this how Brigham first felt when *he* was called upon to practice Plural Marriage? How did the pioneers feel when they were asked -- no, commanded -- to pick up their homes and families and move to a wilderness where they would have to begin their house-building anew? How did the non-Mormon world view these events that Latter-day Saints consider examples of heroism and radical obedience?

Martindale spins a pretty wild story, with something of a surprise ending -- not so much in content, but in tone. I left the reading sobered by the experience.

One fault with this book is the author's tendency to overstate the introspective incidents of its characters. Yes, given the circumstances, it is understandable that they will ask themselves questions. But they tend to ask the same questions, again and again, at length, until the reader finds himself skipping over those sections. They are wordy and unnecessary.

And I thought the mood change toward the end of the book was a bit too abrupt. I had visualized one ending, picking up on the mood of all but the last ten pages or so. I was wrong. The ending was jarring, and the reader, I think, would have been better served by some preparatory thoughts.

I hope this book somehow finds its way into print. It needs some editing, as mentioned above, and will likely not be approved by Deseret Book -- such ruminations as the following would likely not pass the editorial board:

to C.H.'s surprise, the spirit of Brigham Young sat down on the couch and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. A spirit sitting and relaxing on some furniture? He had never imagined such a thing. What did a spirit have to rest from? He had no body.

Maybe Brigham was doing it as a gesture to put C.H. at ease, to make this moment more intimate. C.H. wanted to stare at his butt and see if it made a depression in the cushion, but couldn't bring himself to do it. Somehow, Brigham Young's butt was not something to trifle with. (p. 101)

One can view the above as the meanderings of a mean-spirited writer (which Martindale is manifestly not!). Or, rather, a reflection of C.H.'s own mental state, the wanderings of a mind confused by glory.

Despite the tone set in such words, the book, as a whole, is a serious study of supernatural phenomena, radical behavior and personal responsibility. I really liked the book, and hope to see it published soon.

-----------
Jeff Needle
jeff.needle@general.com