Showing posts with label Kelly Hand. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kelly Hand. Show all posts

Monday, June 14, 2010

Monday Review: Helen Humphreys' Coventry

Coventry: A Novel


Reviewed by Kelly Hand


Helen Humphreys’ Coventry is as austere as the wartime city whose destruction it chronicles. It seems appropriate to call this slim book a novella, yet its style draws as much upon the short story tradition of creating characters without extraneous details as it does upon the expansiveness of novels. Yet Humphreys’ background as a poet is also evident in her scene-painting of a city transformed by German bombs, and she manages to weave history gracefully into her fictional narrative.
The primary focus in this story is Harriet, who moves to Coventry as a young bride during World War I only to lose her husband at the Battle of Ypres soon after. We encounter her first on the night in World War II that will haunt her forever, as she relives the pain of loving and losing. Having remained in the town as a widow for the decades between the wars, Harriet does an elderly neighbor the favor of taking over his “fire watching” duties atop the Coventry Cathedral, where men armed with buckets stand ready to protect the historic building in case German bombers bring flames down upon it. Harriet is willing to don this masculine disguise partly because she does not expect the catastrophe that occurs that night, but Humphreys suggests that her disregard for gender norms and her fearlessness contribute to her survival.

On the day in 1919 when Harriet sent her husband off to war, she encountered a young woman, Maeve, sketching the Coventry cathedral and felt an instant camaraderie with her. They talked about meeting the next day, but it never happened. During her fire-watching duty on November 14, 1940, she meets a young man named Jeremy. When the cathedral erupts into flames from a German bomb, they walk through the devastated city together. As they make their way into the countryside, encountering eerie scenes of life interrupted, Harriet and Jeremy develop an intimate bond that reopens the wounds of the past. Ironically, it is this emotional pain that reunites her with Maeve.

Offering us in its final pages a glimpse of the reconstructed and memorialized cathedral, Coventry suggests that the identities of people as well as places depend upon the bittersweet intermingling of past and present. After attending the 1962 reopening ceremony, Harriet sends a postcard to Maeve, who reflects upon the connection they share: “This is what she and Harriet do—pass the memory of that night in November 1940 back and forth between them.”

However, we have a vague sense that there is more to this relationship for Harriet than there is for Maeve. Humphreys’ failure to make sense of what this relationship means for Harriet is the book’s main weakness. One wonders about repressed homosexual desire, but then feels petty for coming to that conclusion. If Coventry were longer, and if Humphreys practiced less narrative restraint, it might be less elegant, but it would probably be a more satisfying read.
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Kelly Hand grew up in Los Angeles and now lives in Washington, D.C. She recently completed her first novel, Blind Girl's Bluff, a coming-of-age story about a homeschooled fifteen-year-old girl who discovers a passion for painting after her anarchist father suicide bombs a post office, leaving her orphaned and permanently blind. Having revised her novel with the help of a writing group formed with classmates from The Writer's Center, she contributes regularly to the group's collaborative blog, http://www.sixgreatbooks.com/. She has a B.A. in literature from the University of California, Santa Cruz and a Ph.D. in English literature from Indiana University.

Friday, January 8, 2010

Member Appreciation Month: Kelly Hand

The Revision Revelation
by Kelly Hand


I finally “got religion” about the importance of revision when I took Barbara Esstman’s Advanced Novel and Memoir class, and subsequently formed a writing group with several of my classmates. The workshop model taught me that what matters most is not the opinion of a single authoritative reader, but the reading experience of a peer group of critical readers.

As a graduate student instructor years ago, I preached the gospel of revision in introductory composition classes and held conferences with students to discuss their essays and recommend revisions. Invariably, the second drafts of those essays came back with only superficial changes. It was annoying that my advice went unheeded, yet I clung to the notion that there are good and bad writers—and that good ones “get it right” the first time around. When I wrote a dissertation and made changes my committee recommended, the revision process felt like yet another disciplinary initiation rite.

Before coming to The Writer’s Center, I had completed a draft of a novel, Blind Girl’s Bluff, and sent it out to several agents. Some asked to read the manuscript, but did not offer to represent me. I concluded that the novel was “not marketable enough” and started a new novel with a clearer target audience. When my Writer’s Center classmates commented on the first chapter of this second novel, I was disappointed that while many readers enjoyed the story, most advised substantial changes. This felt like a verdict—that I was a “good writer” technically, but only a mediocre storyteller. Fortunately, some classmates encouraged me to keep writing and to join the writing group they were forming.

On a whim, I presented an excerpt of my first novel to the group, and their feedback helped me realize that it was premature to abandon it in favor of the second. With the help of the five other writers in our group, I have spent the last year revising Blind Girl’s Bluff. It has a new beginning, a new ending, and a multitude of changes in between. It surprises me how much I enjoy restructuring my plot, refining my characters, and reining in my sometimes flamboyant prose—all for an audience of supportive peers.

I believe in the hard-won miracles of revision because my book is better now—and so are the books of my writing group friends. We have faith in our ability to make our books “work” for readers like us. This revision revelation has changed my life, and it is turning me into the writer I always wanted to be. Maybe I am preaching now to the converted about revision, but if you find yourself doubting, then find yourself a community of like-minded writer/readers who can help you “see the light.” The Writer’s Center is a place where miracles begin.

If you wish to follow our writing group as we work to perfect and publish our books, visit our blog at sixgreatbooks.com.