As more Mennonite Literature is produced, the question is raised as to whether this literature is serving to renew the culture or becoming a barrier for readers from the traditions of the Mennonite ethnicity and its culture due to outdatedness and difficult subject matter that is hard for more contemporary readers to relate to. Looking at the Canadian Mennonite literature we studied in this course shows that the literature is doing a bit of both.
Rudy Wiebe's Peace Shall Destroy Many, as an older, more pessimistic novel about Russian Mennonites in Canada, does little to renew interest in heritage and culture. Wiebe writes of the Mennonite Brethren roots in Canada in a very off-putting way. In the end, the reader discovers that none of the characters is sympathetic, they are all portrayed negatively and hopelessly. For example, Thom Wiens' violence in the end, and apparent total religious personality switch. Or the general awfulness of characters like Block and the Ungers. Stories like this make me ashamed of my ancestry.
Katya, too, made me feel this way. The history of Mennonites in Russia and then their migration to Canada is undeniably ugly. Perhaps this is how it is (kind of) for Catholics thinking of persecuting anabaptists, or the way Christians relate to stories of the Crusades. It is uncomfortable for us to confront the negativity in our past. For this reason, I think novels like PSDM and Katya aren't serving to renew the community and its culture, because, for many, these are things we'd like to sweep under the rug. However, these are stories that do need to be told, as a legitimate part of the Mennonite history. So it is hard to say only that they create barriers to identifying culturally with one's community.
A Complicated Kindness was our third Canadian Mennonite novel, and, while not really optimistic, this novel was more renewing for the Mennonite community than the other two, especially when considering contemporary audiences, particularly younger Mennonites who have little to relate to in PSDM and Katya.
ACK and Toews' excellent telling of Nomi's struggle with growing up in this strict religious community, learning that she ought to be in the world, not of it, is a great anchor for younger Mennonites.
Really, though, all the works are renewing in the way that they are telling the stories of our heritage--stories that need and deserve to be told.
Nice post- but I don't really think that Thom's religious beliefs completely change. He still has the same beliefs about most of the tenets and I think he still believes in nonviolence. I think he just realizes that it is more complicated than nonviolence forever, no exceptions. He realizes that violence is okay when it serves a noble purpose like protecting someone.
ReplyDeleteOr, Tom realizes that he, too, contains violence and that peace isn't just a matter of avoiding the military, but rather of mastering the self. I'm not sure if he was really protecting someone here, or showing his rage and righteous anger towards Unger. I think PSDM shows that Mennonites should not think of the community as a haven from violence and project all the violence on the outside world, but rather acknowledge that each of us has the capacity to be violent, even when living a rule-bound life and preaching strict pacifism. For instance, Block's treatment of his daughter Elizabeth is deeply violent even though he does not physically assault her. And he is such a rigid pacifist partly because he is trying to cover up his murder of a Bashir during a time of famine (something that is understandable in human terms, if not particularly admirable). I think that Wiebe is saying that is only when Mennonites acknowledge their own human capacity for violence--and stop projecting it onto outsiders--that they can truly begin to understand what peace requires.
ReplyDeleteEven though Katya was thick and slow. PSDM was probably the toughest of our books this semester. It was so subtle in its meaning.
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