book review: Tracie Peterson and Kimberley Woodhouse, All Things Hidden
Note: Bethany House Publishers provided a complimentary copy for this review.
Tracie Peterson and Kimberley Woodhouse, All Things Hidden (Minneapolis: Bethany Publishing House, 2013).
Peterson and Woodhouse tell a story that sheds fascinating insight upon a little-known aspect of President Franklin D. Roosevelt's New Deal programs: planned settlement communities, and in this case the settlement of the Matanuksa Valley in Alaska, site of the present-day towns of Palmer and Wasilla. The authors use the historical events of the valley's settlement in 1935 to explore the stories of Gwyn Hillerman and Dr. Jeremiah Vaughan, who, as one will imagine of a Christian historical romance, encounter Trials and Tribulations (and a very unsavory character by the name of Clarence) en route to an ending I'll refrain from divulging.
Peterson and Woodhouse did their homework, and as a result, even as a twentieth century historian I learned some new things about the settlement of Alaska -- fun! Also, they avoid several of the pitfalls to which this genre sometimes succumbs. They avoid unnecessary anachronism. These characters have historically appropriate names, and they behave in historically appropriate ways. The clergymen who arrive in the valley have denominational ties, which again would have been far more typical of the era than the nondenominational Christianity often foisted upon historical novels (not that there's anything wrong with nondenominational churches, but generally ministers of the time would have been trained in one denomination or another). I appreciated, as well, that this was a story without a political agenda. The New Deal program that forms a central part of the plot line was presented as beneficial, though occasionally flawed in its execution. Government here is helpful, but it isn't the savior. Individual initiative counts, but Federal Emergency Relief Administration aid is also important.
All Things Hidden resorts to clichéd terms perhaps a little more often than it should (lots of folks putting their hands over other peoples' hands, lifting chins to look in the eye and loosening collars), but it tells a lively story of faith. Dr. Vaughan's struggle is based upon events a bit more theatrical than Gywn Hillerman's, but at their roots, the issues with which each of them contend will be familiar to many readers. It wasn't "heavy" reading (and I doubt Peterson or Woodhouse intended it to be), but I enjoyed it, and some of the ideas will stay with me for a while.
Tracie Peterson and Kimberley Woodhouse, All Things Hidden (Minneapolis: Bethany Publishing House, 2013).
Peterson and Woodhouse tell a story that sheds fascinating insight upon a little-known aspect of President Franklin D. Roosevelt's New Deal programs: planned settlement communities, and in this case the settlement of the Matanuksa Valley in Alaska, site of the present-day towns of Palmer and Wasilla. The authors use the historical events of the valley's settlement in 1935 to explore the stories of Gwyn Hillerman and Dr. Jeremiah Vaughan, who, as one will imagine of a Christian historical romance, encounter Trials and Tribulations (and a very unsavory character by the name of Clarence) en route to an ending I'll refrain from divulging.
Peterson and Woodhouse did their homework, and as a result, even as a twentieth century historian I learned some new things about the settlement of Alaska -- fun! Also, they avoid several of the pitfalls to which this genre sometimes succumbs. They avoid unnecessary anachronism. These characters have historically appropriate names, and they behave in historically appropriate ways. The clergymen who arrive in the valley have denominational ties, which again would have been far more typical of the era than the nondenominational Christianity often foisted upon historical novels (not that there's anything wrong with nondenominational churches, but generally ministers of the time would have been trained in one denomination or another). I appreciated, as well, that this was a story without a political agenda. The New Deal program that forms a central part of the plot line was presented as beneficial, though occasionally flawed in its execution. Government here is helpful, but it isn't the savior. Individual initiative counts, but Federal Emergency Relief Administration aid is also important.
All Things Hidden resorts to clichéd terms perhaps a little more often than it should (lots of folks putting their hands over other peoples' hands, lifting chins to look in the eye and loosening collars), but it tells a lively story of faith. Dr. Vaughan's struggle is based upon events a bit more theatrical than Gywn Hillerman's, but at their roots, the issues with which each of them contend will be familiar to many readers. It wasn't "heavy" reading (and I doubt Peterson or Woodhouse intended it to be), but I enjoyed it, and some of the ideas will stay with me for a while.
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