Activity

I am afraid of being off the mark on the topic of world building, but Daeus’s question got me thinking about Dogwood. I have a general layout and picture in my mind of the location  of Matt’s grandmother’s house, the hill behind it, the suspicious neighbour’s (sorry about spelling, I’m Canadian) house across the street, and the gravel road out front that, to the left, leads to Jesse’s shack and the Blackwood farm, and further on, I learn later, around corners and forks in the road, to Jesse’s cousins’ homes. This area is rural, and to the right, an easy bicycle ride away, is the “commercial centre (again, spelling Canadian)” of Dogwood, with everything you need and nothing more. Blake’s grocery store is like the store in my childhood where I ran barefoot down the street with my nickle to buy a fudgesicle (showing my age, now). Skimming through the story, I see details, like the walnut trees lining Matt’s grandmother’s driveway and Matt’s Toyota hatchback pulling into the driveway some 10 years later.

All this isn’t the least of it. The description evokes a mood, and the mood fills in deeper with knowledge of the people living in Dogville and the conspiracy of discrimination against the dirt poor and non-white.

The story has a time dimension too, of the town changing over time, becoming marginally more modern. Jesse and Earl, though arch-enemies in childhood, are cut from the same cloth, and well-suited to a life together as mature adults.

I think there must be a parallel with Matt’s apartment in Chicago, with the noisy elevated track outside and the well-meaning Cabrini-Green housing project beyond it. But I’ve run out of energy and time (dinner’s ready!). However, I’d like to say how much I enjoyed the ending of Jesse’s Promise, especially the way the author, Chris Fabry, tied the whole story up by comparing Matt’s letting go of Jesse to the life she chose, out of love, to Jesus’ suffering and death on the cross, out of love for us that our sins may be forgiven.