Irreantum, Volume 7, No. 3, 2005

IrreantumA Review of Mormon Literature and Film Volume 7, Number 3 (2005) $8.00

Film and Religion

Film and Religion

IrreantumA Review of Mormon Literature and Film

Volume 7, Number 3 (2005)

Irreantum StaffGeneral Editor Laraine Wilkins Assistant Editor Angela Hallstrom Fiction Editor Sam BrownAssistant Fiction Editor Liz LymanPoetry Editor Michael R. Collings Readers Write Editor David PacePersonal Essay Editor Angela HallstromBook Review Editor Jana Bouck RemyCopyediting Team Manager Beth BentleyCopyediting Staff Colin Douglas Henry Miles Alan Rex Mitchell Vanessa Oler Steven OpagerIntern Kjerstin EvansDesign and Layout Marny K. Parkin

Association for Mormon Letters BoardPresident Linda Hunter AdamsPresident-elect Eric SamuelsenBoard Members Kylie Turley Giles Florence Alan Rex Mitchell Valerie Holladay Boyd PetersenAnnual Proceedings Editor Linda Hunter AdamsWebmaster Kathleen Dalton-WoodburyAML-List Moderator R. W. RasbandIrreantum General Editor Laraine Wilkins

Irreantum (ISSN 1528-0594) is published three times a year by the Association for Mormon Letters (AML), P.O. Box 1315, Salt Lake City, UT 84110-1315, www.irreantum.org. Irreantum volume 7, no. 3 (2005) 2006 by the Association for Mormon Letters. All rights reserved. Membership and subscription information can be found at the end of this isssue; single issues cost $8.00 (postpaid). Advertising rates begin at $50 for a full page. The AML is a nonprofit 501(c)(3) organization, so contributions of any amount are tax deductible and gratefully accepted. Views expressed in Irreantum do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the editors or of AML board members. This publication has no official connection with or endorsement by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Irreantum is supported by a grant from the Utah Arts Council and the National Endowment for the Arts, Washington, DC. Irreantum is indexed in the Modern Language Association International bibliography.

Contents

From the Editor 7

Critical Essay

Propaganda and LDS Church Filmmaking: Gentle Persuasion or Ham-Fisted Handling? Randy Astle and Lee Walker 11

Fiction

Judgment Day Aaron Orullian 27They Wandered in Deserts Shawn P. Bailey 35

Poetry

Slowing the Song; In Ordinary Time Heidi Hart 23Bread and Plums; St. Catherines Finger Sonnet Joel T. Long 25The Man Lehi; Bubbly Jennifer Quist 45Rumble of the Falls;

Sycamores by the Bagel Shop on Center Lon Young 47Curious Tree; Between the Gods Maureen Clark 68Psalm Colin Douglas 70Ye Shall Be As the Gods Sharlee Mullins Glenn 76

Reel Observations

HBOs Big Love: Negotiating Polygamy Eric Samuelsen 49The Ascension of a Saint: New York Doll Randy Astle 57New Direction for HaleStorm: Church Ball Eric D. Snider 61This Divided State: An Exploration in Civility? Peter Walters 66

DepartmentsReaders Write: Film and Religion 71From the Archives: Romance of the Celluloid Strip by Gordon B.

Hinckley: Missionaries and Technology from The Deseret News (Church Section), May 2, 1936 77

Book Reviews 83Contributors 96

6IrreantumVolume 7, Number 3 (2005)

ear-ee-an-tum: 1 Nephi 17:5. And we beheld the sea, which we called Irreantum, which, being interpreted, is many waters.

Irreantum: A Review of Mormon Literature and Film is a refereed journal, published three times annually (Fall, Winter, Spring/Summer) by the Association for Mormon Letters. We seek to define the parameters of Mormon literature broadly, acknowl-edging a growing body of diverse work that reflects the increasing diversity of Mormon experience. We wish to publish the highest quality of writing, both creative and critical. We welcome unsolicited submissions of poetry, fiction, creative nonfiction, and plays that address the Mormon experience either directly or by implication. We also welcome submissions of critical essays that address such works, in addition to popular and nonprint media (such as film, folklore, theater, juvenile fiction, science fiction, letters, diaries, sermons). Critical essays may also address Mormon literature in more general terms, especially in its regional, ethnic, religious, thematic, and genre-related configurations. We welcome letters or comments. We also seek submissions of photos that can be printed in black and white. Please send letters and submissions to [email protected]. If you do not have access to email, send your text on a floppy disk or CD to Irreantum, c/o AML, PO Box 1315, Salt Lake City, UT 84110-1315. Submissions on paper are discouraged. Map facing the title page is from Herman Moll, geographer, Molls Maps: Thirty Two New and Accurate Maps of the Geography of the Ancients, as contained in The Greek and Latin Classics (London: Tho. Bowles, 1732).

7From the Editor

Some months ago I participated in a training workshop con-ducted by a company with its headquarters located in Provo, Utah, home of the new Mollywood. The training included a series of videos featuring vignettes designed to illustrate various

workplace scenarios. I was amused at some of the familiar faces of actors I recognized from a few HaleStorm films (Singles Ward, The R.M., The Home Teacher). But I was taken aback when I recognized a face from the LDS temple film. I wasnt sure I could believe my eyes at first, but when the actor began to speak, my suspicions were confirmedon screen, portraying a difficult office situation, was Mormonisms own Peter. I looked around the room to see if anyone else had registered the same surprise. I was either the only temple-initiated Mormon in the room, or others (and I think this is entirely possible) were much more discrete than I in registering recognition. The experience reminded me of the time I first saw an advertising flyer for the accomplished musician Michael Ballam, who is head of the Utah Festival Opera and featured in another role in the temple film. In both cases, I was inclined to project the persona portrayed in the temple film onto the per-son portrayed in the secular context. Whether these actors were in real life inclined to behave like the biblical characters they portray is not the point. But I believe the inclusion of actors in the temple endowmentparticularly in the film versionintends this mixing of religious experience and mass media, scripture and cinema, sacred and profane. That the LDS Church uses film to facilitate one of its most sacred ordi-nances underscores for me the curious relationship between film and reli-gionand not just in Mormonism. Several scholars have begun to explore the intersection between the two in a more general sensethe points of commonality between religious experience and film viewing, the com-mon themes addressed by theology and popular films, and the values that religiously observant people bring to their film-watching activities. Major

Irreantum S vol. 7, no. 3 (2005)

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research universities are beginning to offer courses in the subject (including the University of Chicago and Church-owned Brigham Young University). Clive Marshall points out that the scholarly discourse tends to emerge in three major areas: 1) theological, 2) archetypal, and 3) cultural/critical. In the first area, theological themes are explored under categories such as the nature of sin, forgiveness, repentance, redemption, atonement, sacrament, and communion. This type of discourse generally assumes a Judeo- Christian religious framework and can be applied to virtually any film, as to any piece of literature generally. These are the themes of our greatest stories, which may be portrayed on the screen as well as in books and plays. The notion suggests a line of inquiry for Mormon critics as well as screenwriters, who might expand the list of theological categories to those uniquely Mormon, including notions such as the pre-existence, eternity, temple sealings, eternal progression, and revelation. In the second area, archetypal patterns such as those identified by psychoanalyst Karl Jung, critic Joseph Campbell, and folklorist Stith Thompson, among countless others, establish questing pat-terns and help to explain the origins of the world, the purpose of life, the ultimate destination after death, and other questions that religion generally helps to answer. This has probably been a preferred mode for many Mor mons to appreciate film, as it allows for cross-pollination of Mormonisms sacred stories with those in other cultures. If Mormons believe they have answers to these big questions about life, then it suggests a standard for evaluating films and finding common ground not only with many standard Hollywood works, but also those representing religions outside the Judeo-Christian tra-dition. Third, the cultural/critical mode invites analysis of films on the basis of historical context and power struggles among various groups. A cultural/critical mode for Mormon film might suggest an exploration in film of vari-ous political machinations that have either repressed Mormon perspectives/voices or have been repressed by them. It might also seek to evaluate films for the stereotypical portrayals of Mormons (the infamous Trapped by the Mormons [1922], for example); or to identify the cultural uses of films within Mormonism (both for missionary work, as well as anti-Mormon activities). Although all three categories are represented in this issue of Irreantum, this latter category receives the greatest emphasis. Randy Astles lead essay explores the LDS Churchs long-standing embrace of film as a means to spread the message of the Restoration, and investigates the tradeoffs inher-ent in using film as a medium to promote a pre-determined message related

Wilkins S From the Editor

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to an ironically antithetical gospel principle, that of agency. Eric Samuelsens review of HBOs television series Big Love addresses the representation of the

alternative Mormon lifestyle found in polygamy. Eric Sniders observations on the film Church Ball explore the possibility for Mormon culture to be represented as a generic religion. From the Archives includes a 1936 article written by Gordon B. Hinckley shortly after returning from his mission to England and describing the high-demand slide projector then in use for missionary work. Even Aaron Orullians short story Judgment Day, the first-place winner in the 2005 Irreantum fiction contest, explores the personal drama faced by most Mormons in deciding whether the portrayal of evil in film can be part of a higher moral message. Randy Astles review of the film New York Doll also looks at the archetypal hero, and our Readers Write sec-tion involves theological themes in film. I wanted this issue to address film and religion because I would like to see discussions around Mormon film open up in new directions. Much of what sees press seems to be a debate between the father of Mormon film Richard Dutcher and profit-happy Halestorm movers and shakers Kurt Hale and John Moyer over whether making films that cater to popular tastes is a good thing. We can argue ad nauseum over whether the owners of Halestorm are ruining the reputation of the New Mormon Cinema, Richard Dutcher is capable of portraying a realistic non-Mormon character, or Jared Hess or Neil LaBute are making films that could be called Mormon. The truth is, movies are an inherent part of Mormon life. The LDS Church embraced movies from the very beginning as a new technology with its capacity to spread the gospel throughout the world and (particularly in the silent era) to overcome language barriers and cross national borders. The Church has always embraced technology for its capacity to spread the wordeven from the first printing of the Book of Mormon, and, as Randy Astle and Lee Walker point out, to the publication of newspapers such as Times and Seasons, Millennial Star, and Womans Exponent. In a journal published by the Association for Mormon Letters, one might expect to explore the relationship between film and literature. Indeed, such exploration is valuable. Film is the new narrative form of the modern age, and we cannot afford to ignore its capacity to educate, persuade, and move, on the one hand, or to desensitize, damage, and corrupt, on the other. These same questions might be asked of literature, as much as of film. Yet there is something different about film. It is more pervasive and thus more powerful.


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Church leaders have known this from the beginning. The Church in the last half century has cautioned strongly against indulgence in forms of entertain-ment that present immoral behavior. I believe that every Mormon in the Western world has an R-rated movie story that illustrates a major decision with regard to commitment to Church standards. And while I believe it is of vital importance that individuals follow their own conscience in this matter, I also believe that increasing our capacity to evaluate film is of equally vital importance. A forthcoming issue of BYU Studies is devoted to Mormon cin-ema; alternative-culture magazines are beginning to cover Mormon cinema; Mormon-made movies are getting screenings at art-house theaters around the country; the annual LDS film festival held in Orem, Utah, is growing each year; and the Church will probably continue to make high- production 70-mm films for viewing at Temple Square and temple visitors centers around the world, not to mention on KSL television during conference weekend. Irreantum wants to contribute to the understanding of this symbi-otic relationship between religion and film in Mormon culture. Whether we view ourselves on the sacred silver screen of the temple endowment ceremony or in the profane halls of Slamdance, we as Mormons can always profit by finding new mirrors and new ways to see.

Laraine Wilkins

11

Propaganda and LDS Church Filmmaking: Gentle Persuasion or Ham-Fisted Handling?

Randy Astle and Lee Walker

Karl Konnry, a German filmmaker living in Canada, went to the Canadian National Exposition in Toronto in November 1965 and ended up waiting all morning for his documentary film crew to arrive. To help pass the time, he walked into the Mormon Pavilion

to see how bad the new picture Mans Search for Happiness was. He was surprised, however, that both its cinematic quality and especially its mes-sage impressed him enough that he wrote his name down as a visitor. LDS missionaries arrived at his door soon afterward, and before long he was a baptized Latter-day Saint who, in turn, used his filmmaking abilities to influ-ence others to accept the Church and its teachings. More importantly for him personally, Mans Search for Happiness helped change him from an athe-ist, a complete atheist, to a devoted disciple of Christ and active member of the LDS Church (Wirsing 14). Although most Church members would agree that the Spirit ultimately is the means of conversion, the experience of Karl Konnry at the Canadian National Exposition proves how powerful the medium of film can be in spreading the message of the restored gospel. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has always embraced mass media for their potential to spread the gospel message. Indeed, given the Churchs attention to newspapers and printing from its earliest days, it should not be surprising that Mormonism has been a strong proponent of mass media as a means for communicating as widely as possible. Since 1910 the Church has constantly pursued filmmaking as a chief component of its proselytizing and curriculum efforts, often, as with Mans Search for Happiness, at great expense. It has done so, obviously, not for profit, art, or


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entertainment but because of a belief in the persuasive powers of the medium. While Konnrys case and thousands like it demonstrate that such faith is well founded, the use of film to promote any agenda, particularly a religious one, is a complicated endeavor. We wish to explore briefly some of the factors that inform religiousparticularly institutional LDSfilmmaking, with atten-tion to its similarities to other forms of ideological propaganda.

Church, Religion, and Film

The films shown at the Joseph Smith Memorial Building on Temple Square in the last decade are merely the highest-profile examples of the Churchs commitment to teaching through cinema. Legacy, The Testaments of One Fold and One Shepherd, and the recent Joseph Smith: The Prophet of the Restoration spared no expense in production, with huge casts and sets and larger-than-life images shot on 70 or Super-35mm film and presented in an atmosphere of wonder and awe that has become an integral part of the Temple Square visitors experience. But this is just the tip of the iceberg. For decades the Church has produced films and videos for roughly three purposes: to instruct and assist Church members, to introduce others to the LDS faith, and to convey general moral principles in nondenominational educational filmsdidactic purposes all. This is, of course, true of virtually all LDS films. A survey of the Churchs current Family Resources catalog of available videos lists, for example, titles designed to inspire youth to prepare themselves for missions and to strengthen the families of missionaries (Called to Serve), that provid[e] insights on activation based on interviews that bear power-ful testimony that those who are less active can be reached (Continue to Minister), and that help members learn how to introduce nonmembers to the gospel (Inviting with the Spirit). In recent years the Churchs missionary departmentwith its half-hour videos (e.g. Together Forever, What Is Real?, On the Way Home) or its missionary satellite broadcast open houses (e.g., We Believe in Christ with Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, The Plan of Happiness with Elder Henry B. Eyring)has obviously found film an important medium in its efforts for more direct outreach to those outside the faith as well. And in the spirit of strengthening its members the Church also creates instruc-tional films to strengthen testimonies and help members work out their own salvation. Anything produced by the Church Educational System operates in this vein, from the classic Tom Trails filmstrip series of the 1970s through the

Astle and Walker S Propaganda and LDS Church Filmmaking

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introduction of scripturally based works in the 1980s to more recent doctrin-ally sophisticated pieces such as The Works and Designs of God (1999). In spite of the Churchs phenomenal commitment to the medium of film, it does not have a corner on inspirational or religious motion pic-tures. Movies based on the Bible date back to the infancy of filmmaking in the 1890s (examples include a 1903 production of Samson and Delilah by the French production company Path, a 1910 Gaumont film Esther and Mordecai directed by Louis Feuillade, and D. W. Griffiths apocrypha-based Judith of Bethulia [1914], among many others). As Tyler F. Williams notes, from the early days of filmmaking to its zenith in Cecil B. DeMilles The Ten Commandments (1956), the biblical epic has been a staple of the movie industry. Biblical films continue to the present: note Mel Gibsons 2004 The Passion of the Christ or the 2003 The Gospel of John. And whether Bible-inspired films are designed to entertain or preach, there are numerous accounts of ostensibly secular films engendering a powerful conversion expe-rience with concomitant repentance (i.e., commitment to a higher purpose in Rocky [1976] or understanding of Christs passion through Mean Streets [1973]). Film theorists, scholars, and theologians have in recent years begun to analyze how such films function. For example, Paul Schraders 1972 work Transcendental Style in Film, one of the first of these investigations, identifies a notion of spiritual universality of transcendental style which strives toward the ineffable and invisible (3). Other film critics strive to identify various methods used by Christians in approaching film from a religious perspective. Often such films, like Mean Streets, are not overtly religious, but take on a role within a religious culture. John C. Lyden, for example, in adapting a schema defining the various types of relationships between religion and culture, classifies two approaches to understanding theology and film. The first is a Protestant-dialogical approach, which assumes the independence of religion and culture and seeks to bring them into dialogue in order to gain from that interchange (18). The second he calls Roman Catholic-Synthetic Approaches, where religious devotees and leaders have not always been open to seeing a harmony between the values of movies and those of Christianity (22). While there might have been some animosity among Catholic thinkers toward the role of film for religious purposes, a new attitude began to develop after the Second Vatican Council whereby popular cinema could convey a general sense of humanistic values, which religious


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values could then complete (see 23). While LDS Church leaders have also cautioned strongly against excessive indulgence in popular films, Church-produced films have always been supported through a firm belief that this new technology could be used to spread the gospel (see Levi Edgar Young). In posing the question of how film is able to move or convert, it is impor-tant to acknowledge that not all Church-produced films inspire viewers in the same way, a point we shall return to later. In fact, many might leave a theater on Temple Square with a sense of having been manipulated and deceived by filmmakers who have a predetermined agenda in presenting their message. It is, however, undeniable that Church-made films also inspire, as Karl Konnrys experience demonstrates. While more lives have been affected by The Passion than by The Testaments, one cannot dismiss the capacity of a subsidized industry to produce film that, even without the blockbuster appeal of a Mel Gibson, can inspire.

The LDS Church as Propagandist

A promising line of scholarly inquiry into the power of film to move its viewers is in the notion of the propaganda film. Poor, manipulative, and deceptive propaganda, mostly political, has, especially since the Nazis, given the term an entirely negative connotation, but in the beginning it wasnt so. The term comes from the Latin propagare and was first used by the Roman Catholic Church in 1622 when Pope Gregory XV established the Sacred Congregation for Propagating the Faith (Congregato de propaganda fide) (Rather 28). In this original context, it merely meant any methods or means used to extend the Christian cause, especially in regions where the Church was not fully establishedin other words, to borrow from Mormon rhetoric, in the mission field. Seen in this light, the word is a perfect descriptor of the modern pros-elytizing activities of the LDS Church, and though the Church might not generally use the term to describe the nature of its work with film, there is no question that much in LDS movies, tracts, sermons, books, exhibits, visi-tors centers, monuments, art, music, and literature fall under that rubric. Occasionally Church leaders have expressly articulated their goal, as when the Church produced its first large-scale feature film, One Hundred Years of Mormonism, in 1913. On this project, Elder Levi Edgar Young of the Presidency of the Seventy wrote:

So the moving picture, another modern invention, is to do much to inculcate


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a knowledge of the world and art. . . . [This] picture will help the world at large to an understanding of our history. It will serve as a means to an end. . . . One thing is sure. The moving picture together with all the other modern inventions is to help us carry the Mission of Christ to all the world, and to bring humanity home to the true principles of salvation. (80)

This optimistic attitude toward the possibility of film to persuade to a higher purpose has continued through the activities of the Church throughout the twentieth and into the twenty-first century. The very advent of the Brigham Young University Motion Picture Studio (later taken over by the LDS Church) came about because Church leaders were impressed by Frank Capras Why We Fight series during World War IIpropagandistic films designed to promote a higher cause. This political link is not incidental. We can gain insight into the work-ings of film for an intended religious purpose by observing the workings of propaganda for social justice and education. Indeed, strong connections between religion and politics are surprisingly interwoven, even long after Pope Gregory XV and despite the Enlightenment ideals of separate spheres for church and state. The parallel between religion and politics in film is embodied in the person of John Grierson, one of the greatest early advocates for film as propaganda. A Scottish film producer and civil servant, Grierson worked tirelessly for several decades to produce propaganda films as a catalyst for education and social reform. In 1933, near the beginning of his career, he wrote:

I look on cinema as a pulpit, and use it as a propagandist. . . . Cinema is to be conceived as a medium, like writing, capable of many forms and many functions. . . . But principally there is this thought that a single say-so can be repeated a thousand times a night to a million eyes. That seven-leagued fact opens a new perspective, a new hope, to public persuasion. (16)

As one of the most influential men in the history of documentary film, we have Grierson to thank, for better or worse, for the style of millions of movies that from one perspective might be considered persuasive, offering a new hope, but from another perspective, would be manipulative or, at the very least, sentimental. The effect of Griersons film project in Canada to change large populations for the social good is largely unparalleled, and serves as a model for other Western countries. Such propaganda films do not rely solely on their formal


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qualities for their power to persuade. As the real estate marketing truism holds, location, location, location can make all the difference. Grierson, in addition to mastering the art of the single say-so, enabled its repetition a thousand times a night to a million eyes through innovative film distribu-tion methods. Grierson wanted films taken out of the movie houses and into the workplace. In 1943, in the process of establishing the National Film Board of Canada, he wrote the following:

When we bring under observation new and stubborn materialsthe seem-ingly desolate problems of housing and unemployment and health, for exampleit is difficult at first to make them entertaining and to qualify them theatrically on the ground of either entertainment or inspiration. Happily there is more seating capacity outside theatres than there is inside them. Also happily, men are creatures of mood. The very people who are united in relax-ation inside the theatres are otherwise united in terms of their professional and specialized interest outside the theatres. It is in this latter field that the educational picture is filled out: in schools and colleges, in civic social services, trade unions and professional groups of all kinds. (2912)

Thus he strongly advocated screening films in factories, schools, churches, libraries, and other public arenas, including television in his final years. Such noncommercial venues required noncommercial production, and thus perhaps his greatest work was in establishing nonpartisan government- sponsored film units, most notably in Great Britain and Canada. The mechanisms advocated and implemented by Grierson bear a striking resemblance to the LDS Churchs cinematic practice. With the growth of Church-produced films and filmstrips in the twentieth century, LDS Church members enjoyed Sunday School lessons or seminary classes enhanced with works the likes of The One and Tom Trails in the meetinghouse and the seminary building, not to mention temple visitors centers and the mecca of Mormonism, Temple Square itself, which has been constantly screening films since the late 1940s. Notwithstanding Americans beloved notion of separa-tion of church and state, the similarities between religions and governments in their commitment to producing and distributing short, moralizing films in various noncommercial venues might lead us to wonder what the gospel has to do with any of the Churchs efforts. Susan Clayton Rather pursues this same question in her 1997 BYU mas-ters thesis entitled Film, Propaganda, and the Christian Way of Knowing


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Truth: A Look at LDS Documentary Filmmaking. In an extensive analysis of the 1991 Church-produced film Called to Serve, Rather finds strong parallels between government-produced and Church-produced films. Though the parallels are not surprising, Rather is troubledin the context of religious filmmaking with a higher purpose than mere entertainment, artistry, or even social improvementby the Mormon mandate to respect the agency of every individual. In practice, especially in filmmaking, the doctrines of proclaiming the gospel and promoting free agency often seem at odds with each other. How, on film, can one strive to convert the viewer to the gospel without using heavy-handed tactics designed to manipulate? It is in this light that Rather analyzes the writings of the Christian phi-losopher Jacques Ellul in opposition to Griersons. Any interest Ellul has in social change is subordinate to interest in individual, spiritual change, a position akin to the LDS Churchs. He therefore places ultimate responsibil-ity for change with the individual, echoing LDS teachings on agency and stewardship. He is entirely opposed to propaganda in any form because it removes this responsibility from individuals, placing their fate in the hands of an authoritative entity (akin to LDS notions about the premortal ambitions of Lucifer). It is important to note that Ellul is not opposed to the dissemi-nation of facts, but it is when the inevitably biased interpretation of facts is included as well that he takes issue with propagandistic films, as they may take on a false factual legitimacy in the minds of their receivers. To Rather, the practice of making films with the purpose to persuade cannot coincide with the liberating LDS belief that truth is knowledge of things as they are, and as they were, and as they are to come (Doctrine and Covenants 93:24, quoted in Rather 38). For Ellul, it means individuals cannot accept truth or form ideas unless these are validated by mass media. At worst, he asserts, this will create a society of drones unable to exert themselves to access pure truth or, if we extend his argument into LDS theology, salvation. When evaluating propaganda, it might be wise to consider the observation of Brian Winston, who asserts that propaganda films, for the most part, are

preaching to the converted (cited in Williams 8)or, perhaps, those who are already about to be converted. Such insularity may be beneficial in films geared toward Church members but has an unfortunate distancing effect in films designed to attract outsiders. This, however, raises the larger issue of a mediated community. As evidenced by a lively discourse emerging in the last decade, film has a power to build community to the point of establishing


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common identity for entire nations. Benedict Andersons well-known analysis of reading as a means of nation-building (see Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism) has been expanded by critics whose work is compiled in tomes such as Cinema and Nation (2000) and Film and Nationalism (2002). As Alan Williams points out, Sometimes, preaching to the converted is a very, very useful thing to do. If [the Nazi film] Triumph of the Will in fact only confirmed a small number of young Nazis in their beliefs, that would have potentially been a very important thing (8). Indeed, propa-gandistic filmmaking is deliberately intended, as Grierson articulates directly, to create mass unity, even as it reaches a million eyes a night. When viewers of propaganda accept a given message, they join a constellated community of like-minded people. This is, of course, the ultimate aim of LDS proselytizing films, to unite others to the true Church where they will have access to the doctrines and ordinances that may lead them to salvation.

Persuasive Screenings vs. Resistant Readings

Together Forever (1988), written and directed by LDS musician/dramatist Michael McLean at the Churchs Bonneville Communications, offers a case study in the strategies of institutional LDS propaganda. First the formal level: The film presents itself as a documentary, with characters frequently address-ing an entity just to the side of the camera, a technique modern viewers are extremely comfortable with; occasionally an off-screen male voice interjects follow-up questions to provoke generally emotional responses. In each seg-ment the interviewee tells of spiritual and familial dissatisfaction, and then through dramatic vignettes or musical montages we see the character, now obviously fictitious, work through these problems with the assistance of the gospel. Situational difficulties presented in the film include a busy father, marital trouble, isolated teen loneliness, and a six-year-old daughter killed by a car. As the solutions of the gospel are presented, virtually every segment goes into an inspirational montage sequence, compiling shots of our despon-dent protagonists now happy and hopeful, accompanied by inspirational soft rock with lyrics like the titular We will be together forever someday. At the end, a Church logo appears with a direct invitation to talk to a missionary or Church member. The creators of the film present an ideal scenario whereby viewers might find happiness through the Church, which they are prompted to investigate


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in order to emulate the characters on screen. As in all propaganda, a definite hierarchy is implied: the viewer is in need of spiritual and familial guidance, and the LDS Church is in a position to provide it. The film also creates a sense of communityas a prerecorded message distributed via satellite broadcast, through visitors centers, and most importantly by an army of VCR-toting full-time missionaries, the video can ensure that thousands of people receive the exact same message, without the kind of variation that ensues with individual missionary or investigator personalities and environ-ments. More significantly, the film ends with the invitation to join the larger community of Latter-day Saints. Together Forever continues to be very popular in the Churchs missionary efforts. It has been one of the most heavily distributed productions in recent Church history; it also served as Temple Squares main attraction before the premiere of Legacy in 1993. Furthermore, it has been our experience that full-time missionaries and others have generally believed it will bring the Spirit and touch the hearts of all but the most disinterested viewers. One second-hand account tells of a family investigating the Church while unbeknownst to the missionaries undergoing severe marital difficulties. Finally the parents agreed to file for divorce the following morning, only to have the missionar-ies, contrary to their planned discussion, decide to show Together Forever that night. After watching it, the couple threw out the divorce papers and were subsequently sealed in the temple and began serving in leadership positions in their branch. In cases such as this, investigators view the film, are emo-tionally and (perhaps) spiritually touched, and then make changes in their lives according to the recommendations of the film, specifically to devote more effort to familial happiness and/or to continue with the missionary discussions and thus progress toward union with the LDS community. This is propaganda doing its job. But the film does not always have such an effect on its viewers. What of resistant readings? It is entirely possible to find the film distasteful, manipula-tive, and even offensive, particularly at the climax when the dead daughter runs onscreen to hug her father at a family picnica scene enhanced with soft focus, warm backlight, an orchestral pop song, and even a half dozen pink balloons. One could argue that the film has no respect for viewers agency or actual experiences, especially of those who have endured similar tragedy. Its authoritative position does not allow for variations in individual circumstances and beliefs; the films diegesis itself will not validate a father


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who chooses to spend more time at work (even to pay exorbitant hospital bills incurred through a tragic accident), or a mother who questions Gods justice. One probably would not even feel respected in airing doubts con-cerning life after death. All of this can, to many spectators, lead to stonewall-ing rather than acceptance. If it is difficult for Church filmmakers to respect the agency of potential converts (by not manipulating their emotions), to connect with them on an intellectual or spiritual level (by not being self-righteous, judgmental, or oth-erwise insular in favor of the LDS community), and still provide them with a spiritual experience that will help advance them toward union with the Church, then it may be comforting to realize that all propagandists face simi-lar difficulties in reaching a new audience. The capitalist will have difficulty accepting Battleship Potemkin; the African American, Birth of a Nation; the pacifist, Casablanca; the Republican, Fahrenheit 9/11; the McDonalds execu-tive, Supersize Me; the Mormon, Marriage or Death; and the atheist, Mans Search for Happiness. There exists, in other words, the reality of resistant read-ings, cases where the viewer refuses to cooperate with the ideals presented on screen but instead actively disagrees with part or all of the intended message. Some anti-Mormon organizations or wary denominations have shown LDS films such as Called to Serve in order to alert their members to the dangers of Mormonism. Conversely, some Latter-day Saints began their initial investigation of the Church because of watching the anti-Mormon film The Godmakers. Mormons themselves have exhibited this kind of resistant reading since the early days of film, when they were often the subject of sensational stories of the West. In the 1910s and early 1920s a slew of theatrical films in Europe and the United States sensationalized Mormonism with tales of polygamy and the Mountain Meadows Massacre. Titles included Marriage or Death, Trapped by the Mormons, A Mormon Maid, The Danites, A Victim of the Mormons, and Married to a Mormon, among many others. There were attempts, some successful and some not, by Church leaders and other promi-nent members to suppress or censor these, but the most interesting response came from young full-time missionaries. As often as not they would stand outside the movie theaters and pass out tracts sometimes specifically writ-ten to disprove the claims of the film. Missionary G. Osmond Hyde wrote home from Hull, England, that Trapped by the Mormons (1922) was the best stroke of advertising that we have put forth since coming over here. In three


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evenings we let more people know that we are here than we could have done in three months at ordinary tracting from door to door (5). Similar mis-sionary reports came from New York, London, Sydney, Johannesburg, and elsewhere. The truism that there is no such thing as bad advertising was thus in place decades before the days of provocative Calvin Klein billboards. Spectatorship is thus a much more complicated activity than is implied by a label such as: This videocassette will make youth want to be morally clean. Viewers are not, perhaps, passive receptacles, swayed by every wind of pro-paganda. And in spite of the power of film to persuade its viewers to adhere to a message and take action in support of a cause, the power of individual agency is always at work after all. Film is merely a catalyst for those who are ready to believe, whatever that belief may be. As with Triumph of the Will, howeverfor those who are readysuch a catalyst can be crucial. And, in many cases, the effectsof the right film at the right moment for the right person, such as Mans Search for Happiness at the 1965 Worlds Fair for Karl Konnrymake all the difference in finding God.

Conclusion

How, then, to honor agency yet still assist viewers in their path to conver-sion? For Susan Rather, following Jacques Ellul, it lies in respecting the independent and autonomous stature of eternal truth; indeed, she might suggest that LDS films teach correct principlesas fervently as their creators may likeand leave the spectators to govern themselves. This open-ended solution necessitates future studies in style, aesthetics, narrative structures, typology, and other formal characteristics of LDS films on the one hand, and phenomenological inquiries into the nature of LDS spectatorship/the viewing of LDS-made films on the other, neither of which would fit into a short introductory study such as this. What we hope to have examined here is the relationship between both politics and religion, and persuasion and unrighteous dominion, all within a cinematic context. Such an understand-ing is essential, we believe, to the creation of a persuasive, spiritual, and moral cinema.

Works Cited

Anderson, Benedict. Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism. New ed. New York: Verso, 2006.


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Family Resources. Distribution Services of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 2006 edition.

Grierson, John. Grierson on Documentary, ed. Forsyth Hardy. New York: Praeger Publishers, 1966.

Hyde, G. Osmond Movie Campaign Against Mormons Leads Many to Investigate Message. Journal History (April 30, 1922), 5.

Lyden, John C. Film as Religion: Myths, Morals, and Rituals. New York: New York University Press, 2003.

Rather, Susan Clayton. Film, Propaganda, and the Christian Way of Knowing Truth: A Look at LDS Documentary Filmmaking. Thesis, Brigham Young University Department of Theatre and Media Arts, December 1997.

Schrader, Paul. Transcendental Style in Film: Ozu, Bresson, Dreyer. New York: Da Capo Press, Inc., 1972.

Williams, Tyler F. Codex. Archive for Bible and Film category. The Old Testa ment on Film. May 10, 2005. http://biblicalstudies.ca/blog/wp/category/film/biblefilm/.

Wirsing, Whit. Skeptic Touched by Church Film. Church News (August 26, 1972), 14.

Young, Levi Edgar. Mormonism in Picture. Young Womans Journal XXIV:2 (Febru-ary 1913), 7580.

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Heidi Hart

Slowing the Song

Cricket song played back at half and half again its ordinary speed spreads into major thirds, a full-voiced triad choir

singing in circles, the same song for millennia. Medieval churchmen thought this sound too bright for the grim business of salvation;

how the major scaleto them, Ionianwould grate like insects chafing with desire, song as forbidden as the devils interval from F to B,

song suspect in its innocence, the echo of a lullaby, a childs taunt in a stableyard, song not fit for Eden-fallen ears.

I never loved the major scale until I heard the crickets sing its triads slow, not melody but trinity in waves, arriving endlessly.

The cricket I find in my basement, one wing broken after recent ambush by the cat, has not been dropped from graces garden.

It sang once. It suffers, as we want and wound and sing the only songs we know, calling to each other in the dark.

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24

In Ordinary Time

Miles from the flood-city where the dead drift out into the street through open windows,

what sky shows through mine is darkeningto Dickensian soot. A hammer rings:

my boys have banded with their friends to build a wood scrap fort against the looming rain,

against the TV images of a stampede in Baghdad, bodies billowing along the Tigris.

Here in this more recent desert settlement, fresh with faith in God and progress, plum trees swing

with unasked-for abundance, each windfall fruit a gift or waste, who knows. I can hear my neighbors

talking prophecyOld Testamentas rain pulls at their kitchen screens. Another neighbor

belts her daughters name until the thunder takes her voice. So our epoch nears its end;

so have others; were flotsam, Im thinkingas my doorbell sounds its electronic carol and

I light the porch up for a three-year-old, naked and muddy, who hands me a crushed

blossom. He says nothing. I thank himand tuck the bloom into my book.

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Joel T. Long

Bread and Plums

The plums are blind in the trees broken last winter while we were away. They are too high, out of reach. I will not climb to reach them. Leave them to drop for the snails that slide out after the sprinklers shut down, and the fruit flieswith their red eyes, carried by wings the size of a flake of skin propelled by a smaller will. The plum Ireach is not ripe, tastes of grass and lemon rind, and my teeth put on gauze, tongue-touched. I am always too soon. The sunlight slips past me. It is the bread I craved, crusty loaves saltyand dense. I wish to be sustained, and the plumstumble around in their nest of branches,the power line strung through it to the house. Their roundness makes wine holes in the light. They are gathering juice from the ground. They know the way to make sweetness from inside. They are working all night. Inside, my daughters move from room to room, turning on lights and music.

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Saint Catherines Finger Sonnet

She wound her finger in thread, pulling to break it, and the thread tightened like a feeble noose. The tip of her finger swelled with blood, dark and leaden, color of a birth mark. And it felt cold there, small, hidden climate, a cold front, three miles high, little needlesof frozen clouds slipping through the crease like a sting. She released the thread. Blood found the low place again, rushed to even pressure, and the finger felt that it might lift or fall, felt dizzy in its curl as it joined the rest, flexing like necks of a series of swans, burnishedby firelight, sipping air, fig brown and sweet, leaning toward the heart in the middle of the hand, pulling away.

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Judgment Day

Aaron Orullian

He put the script down again and sighed. It was the dirtiest, sexi-est, roughest thing hed ever read, and it was still brilliant. It was script 32 of the ScriptWorld Screenwriting Competition, and he

had no idea what he was going to do with it. Hed volunteered to be a first-round judge because writing and movies were what his life was all about, and he wanted to make a difference. Hollywood had long since fed its audiences with loaves of chaff. This contest would be his chance to winnow out some garbage and recommend some whole wheat. He said a quick silent prayer and reexplained the situation. It really had the most ridiculous soft-core title, and hed rolled his eyes when he first picked it up a week ago. Yet how was he to know that this hypercharged erotic odyssey would contain such assured storytelling, such exquisitely real-ized characters, such raw, brutal truth? (He himself had never had sex, but as an artist could recognize truth.) So in spite of himself and in spite of its heaps of inventive sex, he had to admit that Doves Passion had achieved something both telestial and sublime. It was a work of art. A work of something. Oscar worthy. Michelle materialized at his corner table by the deli counter, poking at her Gorgonzola walnut salad, beaming. So have you read anything good lately? She sat down. No. Not really. He took a bite of his chicken on wheat and said a quick prayer and apolo-gized for lying. Then he said another and asked if he really was lying, since he really hadnt decided how to define good in terms of the competition. Well dont be discouraged. Maybe youll find something wonderful like Lord of the Rings. Michelle was well-meaning, if a bit nave. They had met at a Single Adult conference last July; she introduced herself to him after a workshop on debt


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reduction. He sensed early on that shed wanted him. It was obvious by the way she held on to his every word, the way she stared and laughedthat love-laugh of a thousand movies. He was annoyed at first, then felt bad because she really was a nice person and only wanted someone to love. As he left the deli, he prayed for her. That someone would find her and love her. Someone really nice. Someone who wasnt him, even though she was a good listener and reminded him of that fascinating actress on The West Wing with the bug-eyes. (Although those qualities could never be enough and he knew it. As an artist he could never compromise. Not in art. Not with women. Not with things both eternal and final.) Crossing Lemon, he could almost see Dove running through the rain-swept streets of Prague, Russian tanks rolling in the distance, a heart burning for traitorous lovers under a pale green sweater. (Janek music would be perfect over all of this.) He found his window again at the Washington Mutual and sized up the lunch rush. Because Dove didnt know about the gospel, he couldnt hold any of her sleeping around against her. In fact, if he hadnt had the gospel and had to hide from Communists day and night, he too might have been the same way. He said a quick prayer and apologized for thinking so much about that sweater, then said a quick prayer of gratitude, then prayed for everyone in China. Forty scripts read in four weeks. Two to be recommended for more analysis and possible glory, thirty-eight to be sent to the dustbin of shattered dreams. It was a miserable thing that had to be done, artist executing artist (hed been killed forty-six times so far over the course of his own emerging screenwriting career). Of course, most of these competition scripts were dis-missible examples of How Not to Write a Screenplay. But seven had somehow sidestepped his contempt and caused him real trouble. Two were revisionist historical dramas (one set in 1709 New Jersey) with impeccable dialogue and rich visual detail; another, a riveting Civil War story about an obscure and unbelievable event at Gettysburg (hed never been there but could only imagine); a simple story about a dog and an orphan (surprisingly void of cheap sentimentality, despite the disposable title); a satire about consumer-ism (from a totally different angle); a remarkably constructed biography of Fats Waller (all flashforwards within a flashback); and a story about a girl in 1968 Czechoslovakia. Hana Jovic had moved to Praha from Morava to live with her grand-mother after the sudden death of her parents in an auto accident. Dark-haired,

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Orullian S Judgment Day

soft-spoken, and partial to green apples, she soon found employment at a nondescript glass works outside town.

INT. GLASSWORKS SUPPLY ROOMDAY

A small blue SOUND, a moan.

A long white line. The rounded outline of a womans side.

Her first encounter seemed ridiculous and unmotivateda lunch-break fling with her trainer. It came out of nowhere and was completely casual and indefensibleprobably just a cheap attempt to keep the reader and audi-ence interested. By page 17, a pattern had developed. Hana with the retiree upstairs. Hana with the milkman. Hana with the Metro ticket-taker. Every couple of pages Hana would take time out to wrap glass or sip coffee. It was all so excessive and relentless, yet he began to feel there was some-thing to it. Sure, it was beautifully written (very well-crafted and poetic), but that wouldnt have been enough. Something was obviously wrong with this Hana, and it fascinated and disturbed him. Maybe she held a dark, terrible secret (what was it?). Or maybe she was meant to be a psychological case study in extreme behavior. Better yet, a cautionary metaphor for the joyless carnality and vacant pleasures the worldly unwittingly seek (why was she having such a good time?). At page 22 hed already put the script down several times and said several prayers apologizing for his growing interest in it. But he had to keep on. Hed committed to giving each script a fair shake (the $50 entry fee was a good chunk) and Hana could be no exception, no matter how spiritually disabled she was. Besides, he needed to know what exactly he might be dismissing.

From her bed, she watches as a dim shadow thrown to the ceiling from the street lamp below begins to crawl and brighten into a glowing cross.

A low RUMBLE is heard in the distance. VOICES heard shouting outside.

It was on page 27, as she was lying in the arms of her latest experience, that the tanks with red stars rolled in. And thats when everything changed. A remarkable twenty pages or so followed: the whirlwind occupation by foreign troops, the student and radio protests, families and friends breaking apart to realign their allegiances or rush for the fast-closing borders. The dream of a free republic being firmly submerged just at the moment when


30

things were beginning to be sweet. (Hed sighed relief that the good times were over.) Hana hadnt known much about politics up till thenNovotn, Dubek, Svobodaall names of famous, potential lovers. Nor had she understood what was sweeping the country, why the people were gathering in great masses on Wenceslas Square to await Dubcks return from Slovakia. The foreign occupiers noticed her beauty and her, the barricades of buses and cars set up by students, the street signs all mixed up and missing. Pushed in a crowd, she sat on a tank to rest herself, until a firm arm pulled her down and away. Her friends at the factory and voices in the Rud Prvo said the sky was falling; the young Polish officer pressed her close and didnt say much of anything. It wasnt until p. 42, after police had sacked her friends caf, and Radek and Duana were imprisoned for treason, that Hana realized that her world had come undone. The factory explosion on October 4 (shed been framed by the foreman) and her forced descent underground sealed her fate. In hiding, her education came fast. She learned about the fight for free-dom. She learned about her country and about justice and how to serve up a Molotov cocktail. In dark solitude she realized that there were things only she controlled, and she determined from that day forward to surrender them to the cause of counterrevolution. And it would be nonviolent. She would use her body for peace. Socialism with a female face. They would call her Dove of Peace. (He couldnt remember the Czech phrase for it, but it was really weird and sexy).

DOVE I can only do what I have to.

On p. 72 she began her crusade in Brno, giving herself up to anyonemen and women, bureaucrats and beauticianswho could further the cause of freedom. Aligned with several resistance groups but fiercely independent, she tried to free a comrade with a kiss, reduce a sentence with a striptease, and from a bed, smuggle families across the border. It was dangerous, soul-destroying work, and she became surprisingly less successful at it as she went along. Yet while others were ignoring the broadcasts and mouthing the slogans, Dove was leading her own revolution by sleeping with the enemy. The whole enterprise felt abusive and sad to him (the entire third act was a downer); but to Dove, her denial of self was

31


a passionthe ultimate form of passive resistance. She would bring spring back to the people or lie and die trying. By the last page (122), after Doves final humiliation and sacrifice, he didnt know which end was up. He had come out of the experience completely trau-matized and yet somehow charged. He couldnt possibly have gone where he just went, but then he felt so oddly warm, so refreshed creatively; his spirit had soared in and out of the ashes of sin and error and felt redemption some-how. There was completely too much nudity in it, too much sex, most of which couldnt be morally justified (the last scene possibly excepted). If the rest could be toned down somehowexcised, trimmedmaybe the director could cut away to rain or dove wings flapping (no, too obvious) or flower petals falling like in Asian films. Maybe then the sexual element could be doable. Tight over-the-shoulder shots and close-ups. He sighed and wondered if watering things down would end up washing everything else away. Hed always been careful. He had seen only six R-rated films over the past few yearstwo rented, four on HBO. One was a historical drama with a searing performance by his favorite actress. It was moving and important and could easily have been PG-13 without the full-frontal scene. The other was a critical standoutconsidered a groundbreaking film by many of the major print criticsand so for artistic reasons he saw it. It was an excessive film, over-hyped; but the cinematography was amazing. The rest were simply time-wasters, viewed in motel rooms, accessible by ready remote. Hed since repented of all these transgressions, repented even for not praying properly about whether he should have seen them in the first place, and so had been sober since summer. (Unrated foreign films didnt count.)

S S SDaphne from last Fridays mid-singles social sat next to him on his couch, staring at the end credits on the TV in silence. Theyd just seen his favorite Iranian filma masterpiece of narrative understatement and minimal cam-era movement. The ending was depressing but amazing and hed felt happy to share it with her. It was a perfect example of art flourishing within restric-tions, he explained, and thats the paradigm hed accepted for himself, too. Art with standards. And he would try his best. But it wasnt so easy, wasnt so simple. Because what if his own honest visions were someday viewed as heresies? What would he do then?


32

Hed lain in bed that first night after meeting Dove and wondered why hed been made to know her. He didnt really need to know about revolutions and lovemaking positions, but once out of the garden there was no turning back. And these things were almost exactly as he had imagined them to be, made more intoxicating with all the odd, unexpected little details that make these things more believable. He prayed for understanding and to know how to feel. It must have been a horrible, sexy timeall those yearnings and couplings in art deco cafs and undersized automobiles, all that Tropic of Cancer and Capricorn buzzing in high-rise concrete beehives. All that bread and booze and vlast. Heaving women with doe eyes and body odor. Laughter and hunger and raucous singing. Desperation. Life lived to its limited fullest; love and self-sacrifice at all costs. It was all just too much. Daphne nodded slowly, her eyes sharing the weight of his dilemma with the DVD player. (Dove had slept with an entire regiment to save a family of six). Maybe you should pray about it again, she suggested quietly. He agreed.

S S SAt the third-Sunday fireside on individual worth, he listened and listened and waited for his answer. Hed prayed sixteen times since sacrament meet-ing, sixteen times specifically (with different wording), before apologizing for keeping count. He had to make his decision by midnight, had to leave an unmarked envelope containing two screenplays on the doorstep of the volunteer coordinators apartment. He didnt enjoy the silence, but had faith that the answer would come. He stared up at the chapel ceiling and found Jennifer Connellys face in the cottage cheese. She hadnt been there before, but then everything was changing. He said another prayer. Maybe this was the beginning of his own real change, toward the next level of his artistic maturity and spiritual under-standing. Maybe this contest had happened to him for a purpose. Maybe there were things in this earth life that werent meant to be understood, just accepted and experienced and acknowledged as valid. Maybe Jennifer Connelly would use a body double. Hi. Michelle appeared in line behind him at the refreshment table. She had bad breath and thats why hed never kissed her. So, are you done reading all those scripts? Were there any really good ones?

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He looked around, hoping to spot someone else to talk to. So whats it about? A woman who sleeps around. He knew exactly what to say to her. Oh. She picked up a handful of pretzels and put them in her napkin. You know, its a hard thing, she started. I mean, I think about the Lord of the Rings movies and how violent they are. But I dont think the violence overwhelms the positive feeling from the story, you know? Its like a counter-point to the good that the characters are seeking to keep alive. It makes what they might lose more precious. He took a sip of his Hi-C and said a prayer that shed go away. A guy with glasses tugged at her from behind. She turned around and smiled and felt for his hand. This is Phillip. Hey. Phillip smiled at her, and she looked back at him in a way hed seen only once before, after the dance in the old hall in the Mal Strana, when she was truly happy, before the tanks, when everything was green. He moved through the crowded cultural hall and said a prayer that they would be happy. That he would be happy. That the slight inexplicable empti-ness he was feeling now would somehow go away too. He drove to the Rancho Villa Apartments and sat for a moment. Hed prayed so much already and thought so much and now he just wanted to do what was right. It was time to act. No more praying over stupors, self-inflicted or real. He would pray one more time and that would be it. It was between the dog, Dove, and the Civil War. Walking up the steps to C-14, he listened and listened and listened. Everything felt held in the balance of this one decisionhis entire approach and understanding about the gospel and art was at stake. He could endorse the best thing hed ever read, or he could sift it through the lens of his own values. By the time he reached the door, the Civil War script was already in the envelope in his right hand, two others in his left. He looked down at Dove and then at the dog script and then back at Dove. Barky would touch hearts and uplift spirits; Dove would fracture souls and show them something deeper.


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He held her in his hands and remembered with compassion the pain of her many degradations. These were hard things to put to the world, he knew, and would they be worth it? Sure, Barky had taught his orphan owner to trust and love again; Dove had slept with a village and had a nervous break-down in the nude. Holubice mru. He listened again and listened and listened. There was no way he would ever see the movie if it came out, no way he would recommend it to friends. It would be a hard R at least; NC-17 if all secrets be told. It was bad stuff. Nasty. Heartbreakingly nasty brilliant stuff, and it had come to him. He sighed and resigned and with reluctance slid it into the envelope and said a prayer that it wouldnt win.

S Editors note: This story is the firstplace winner of the 2005 Irreantum fiction contest.

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They Wandered in Deserts

Shawn P. Bailey

Jed was thinking about his girlfriend. His eyes were fixed on the silhouette of the westernmost column of the Wasatch Range, which runs neatly parallel to the line of the freeway. Mark was

singing over the radio as he drove. Ryan was reading a book in the passenger seat. The windows were rolled down, and warm dry air beat at their ears. They had loaded their packs into Marks Ford Escortdented fender, one hubcap missingthe night before. They left directly from school; it was a late spring Friday and class had been out for roughly fifteen minutes; they were already halfway to Provo. They drove south on I-15 to Highway 6, which wound southeast to the mouth of Spanish Fork Canyon. The few miles of road between the freeway and the canyon marked the transition away from population and radio reception. They climbed into the canyon, where only a few modest struc-tures and the occasional tree occupied sparse hills. Not long after beginning the descent from Soldier Summit toward Price, pink and orange sandstone wallsstained white and charcoal in streaks where water runs each spring from snow melting off the benches abovereplaced the high-desert hills. Friends on the latest of several trips, they were going camping in Arches National Park. They were all seniors in high school; they knew this might be the last time before graduation. Do I go East or West on 70? asked Mark. Follow the signs to Moab, Ryan said, not looking up from his book. Ryan! Which way do I go? Youre the navigator! So navigate! Mark shouted. Why do you think you got to ride shotgun anyway? Ryan was sure that Mark knew where to go and just wanted to make con-versation. It doesnt matter, dude. Desert is desert. Follow your heart, Ryan said as flatly as he could manage. So heres the deal, Mark started in. In a few months, you are going to be out there somewhere, just you and some other guy, knocking on doors all day.


36

Sounds more like your dream job than mine, Ryan said. So whats it going to be, Mark? Knives? Pesticide? Security systems? You know what Im talking about, Mark insisted. Right, Ive seen the movie, Ryan maintained his tone. Lots of walking two-by-two in front of exotic scenery. Synchronized waving. Wholesome smiles. The womenfolk at home hold their breath between letters. A chorus sings Called to Serve in the background. Im down with that. Where do you want to go? Mark asked. Never tell anyone, not even yourself, where you want to go, Jed spoke up. This is serious. If you honestly say where you want to go, you are sure to not go there. And you may get sent somewhere just because you went around telling people how awful it would be. Just say nothing. Or say you want to go someplace you dont really care about. Jed smiled and looked up.

Indifference is the key. Indifference. Extend the life of your secret desires by hiding them so well even you cant find them. Somewhere dull, somewhere in the Midwest, Ryan answered Marks question. Nice. Very wise, said Jed. I think the Midwest sounds like a fine place to serve a mission. Another questionanother question is whether you are really going at all, Ryan said in a serious voice, turning from his book to the center of the car. Everyone I know assumes I am going. He paused. But I dont know, he added. Thats not funny, Ryan. You are going, Mark said, half regretting that he brought up the subject in the first place. The only question is where. I am going someplace in South Americathat is if China doesnt open up in the next six months. Im not even sure I have a testimony, Ryan replied. Can I do thatcan I go around telling people to join a church that I am not even sure about? How do I explain polygamy? I dont even get polygamy. And what about blacks and the priesthood? What am I going to say other than Hey, thats a pretty good question? Can I take my parents money? My parents dont have a lot of money. Shouldnt I go to college and get on with my life if Im not sure? Mark and Jed were silent. Focusing on the road, Mark frowned. Youre going, he said again, softly but irritated. Not that I dont see how Im cornered. My mom might not ever speak to me again if I dont go. And I cant imagine looking down the dinner table

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Bailey S They Wandered in Deserts

at Thanksgivingat all my unclesif I dont go. And you know a Mormon woman with any kind of fire would never date me if I dont go. Its a choice between everythingeverything in the world I knowand, well, the alter-native is, is huge. I mean, I could be wearing a suit in the jungle somewhere for two years, passing out pamphlets in the jungle. Im not sure. Were cor-nered. Just like that, were cornered. Jed was uneasy. He couldnt deny anything Ryan said, so he tried not to think about it. But he was certain that he would go. He would somehow sur-vive it. He believed too much to question whether he was sure or not. I will go because I trust them, he resolved to himself, the people who always pres-sure me to gomy parents. And his thoughts returned to his girlfriend, Lisa: the indifferent look in her eyes at lunch today. What she would do without him this weekend. Whether they would stay together after graduation, when the high school social calendar, which required no effort from either of them, would expire. Marks car began to shake as it accelerated into the high eighties on the stretch, flat and straight and narrow, between Price and I-70. Silent for several minutes now, the cars passengers had nothing to say about the fact that Mark knew exactly which way to go on I-70 when the time came. They pulled into the park after dark, found their usual campsite, and started a fire. They ate beef stew from steaming cans raised from the coals with a pair of pliers. They stared at the fire and the unsteady light it cast on the dark stone masses that encircled them. They talked, ranging all over a small universe of subjects: sports, girls, music, school, the future. Laughing, they quoted lines from movies and TV and remembered practical jokes they had pulled and a few they hadnt dared to try. As the fire declined to ashes, their conversation also tailed off. When it finally expired, they rolled out their sleeping bags and put them to use. They woke early. Jed moved nothing except his neck and eyes as he examined a desert rats tracks that ended on one side of his sleeping bag and started up on the other. One of his hands emerged from his sleeping bag and rubbed his eyes. Fine red dust had collected on every contour of his eye socket. Even after several trips to Archesafter falling asleep to so many shades of grayit was jarring to wake to all these reds, pinks, and oranges. Only the sky and the pale greens of yucca and cactus plants provided coun-terpoint to the warm-colored stone and sand. Mark had a fire going and was boiling water for instant oatmeal. Jed and Ryan joined him.


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Gods playground. Mark broke the silence, looking just above their heads, inspecting the salmon-colored sandstone formation behind them. Its good to be standing here; you know, in such a holy place. The way I see it, this place is all mountains and valleys, Ryan interrupted.

And I dont have to tell you that mountains shall be brought down and val-leys raised upthis whole place is scheduled for demolition. All we can do is enjoy it while we can and not get too attached. How soons that oatmeal going to be done? It doesnt mean that. You have no idea what Mark was cut short. It might mean that, Ryan came back. Consider the arches themselves. Defiant. Defiant even to natural laws, friction, gravity, you name it. And audacious. Always appearing in pictures. I mean, dude, look at your license plate. Delicate Arch. How corporate can a geological formation get? Come to Utah, it says, I will hold very still for you. Dont worry, there will always be some other tourist standing right next to me. She will be glad to snap a picture for you. Jed was pleased that Ryan could still get to Mark, just like always. He may have something there, Mark. Jed grinned. Those are some pretty pompous arches if you think about it. Marks face was contorted, pulled tight. He was making an effort to ignore Ryan entirely. He went to his car, returned with a map, and began to study it.

Fiery Furnace, he declared. I think today we explore the Furnace. There were no objections. The small parking area next to the Furnace was empty except for Marks car. They noticed but were not impressed by the sign prohibiting hikers from venturing into the Furnace without first registering at the ranger station and taking an orientation course. Thats new. Mark shrugged his shoulders. Im not going to spend the morning with old hippies in polyester shorts, Jed said. You know, lecturing us not to litter or poop without providing a proper burial or step on cryptobiotic soil, thus disrupting the deserts deli-cate ecosystem. The morning passed quickly as they played their way deeper and deeper into the Furnace, a maze of slot canyons, spires, boulders, odd-shaped compartments, sand dunes, and sudden drop-offs. Many forceswind, silt collecting and curing layer upon layer, sudden torrential rains after months without moisture, August afternoons second in extremity only to the lunar chill of winter nightshad conspired to make that place.

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They followed no trail; they climbed chimneys thirty and forty feet high in tight slot canyons. They ran zigzag up a dry riverbed, looping sideways higher and higher up the riverbeds sloped walls. They scrambled to the top of a small arch and jumped into the rust-colored sand below. Unstated principles structured all of this play. The more difficult or original or at least dangerous the stunt, the better. Once one of them successfully executed a stunt, the others were obligated to duplicate it. Hours into their game, they reached a high point where a single ragged juniper tree provided a few feet of shade. They stopped for lunch. Exceedingly hungry and safely beyond the gaze of girlfriends and parents, they ate freely. No one spoke for several minutes. Mark had been thinking all morning about what Ryan said in the car the day before; he was determined not to let it pass unanswered. He finished his lunch quickly to make sure he could address Ryan while he still had a mouthful of sandwich. Mark was uncertain where to begin, uncertain even what he was going to say. Faith, Mark said, looking directly at Ryan. Ryan was only half surprised. He grinned narrowly and looked up at Mark with raised eyebrows. He did not speak. You say youre not sure. Well the point isnt really being sure, is it? Youve got to have faith now. Thats what faith is, you know, pressing forward when youre not sure. Mark wanted to sound both caring and wise, but he failed.

And so your mom and future wife and your family want you to do whats right. Can you blame them? Imagine if it was the other way around! Then youd have something to complain about. And you make it sound like some kind of conspiracy. What do want me to say, Mark? Ryan asked as calmly as he could.

I know that everyone, everyone applying the pressureincluding you, MarkI know that all of you just want to help. And believe it or not, after eighteen years in the Church I have heard the definition of faith. I just dont find it that easy in practice. I do know what I feel, though, and Im just not sure. Jed wanted to change the subject. I think we should bring our girlfriends on the next trip, he said. I mean those of us who have girlfriends. Sorry guys. Mark, impatient and angry, rose to his feet, turned his back and walked a few steps into the sun. Ryan jumped up after him and gave him a friendly slap across the shoulder. Dont stop trying to save my soul, dude, no matter


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what, he said to Mark with an enormous grin. I am worth it. Whatever, Mark managed a smile of his own. Lets get going. They resumed their game, hiking deeper into the Furnace. They came to a series of small mesas, enormous steps down, up, and diagonallike a series of roofless sandstone apartments connected by haphazard ramps or not connected at all. They began to navigate their way into these curious spaces. Sullen, Mark kept himself a compartment or two in front of Ryan and Jed. Eventually, however, he came to an abrupt stop. Ryan and Jed caught up to him. He was looking down into a large depression. Its floor was sandy, populated by several angular stone blocks like abstract sculptures, and its full extent was not visible from where they were standing. The inner chamber, boys, Mark said. The holiest room in the temple. Im going down there. Looks like a little bit of a drop, Jed warned. Are you sure? There was a gradual slopea lip at the topthat quickly transitioned into a steep dive. Mark was already inching his way down the first few feet. Reaching the point where he had to commit to the stunt, he hesitated for a moment and then took a large step onto the steep wall of the hole. He managed to keep his feet under him until he hit the floor. Still, falling with considerable momentum, he stumbled in the sand and struck a large rock. He was slow to rise, but even holding his side in pain he was laughing. Dont expect any footing in that sand! And watch out for the rocks. Hard. Rock hard! Jed and then Ryan followed Mark into the hole, each doing better with the landing than Mark had. They quickly turned to climbing on the stone blocks. Except for when they fell to the forgiving sand a few feet below, they pretended to free climb the face of a soaring cliff. They finished with the boulders and explored the floor of the depression further. In a cool corner where a sandstone overhang cast a jagged shadow, they found a pothole of clear water. Walking around the outcropping of rock that had prevented them from seeing the full extent of the hole from above, they were surprised by a wide open view of the valley below. They could see an arch in the distance. From the ledge where they stood to the valley floor was at least one hundred feet of sheer cliff. Which one is that? Jed pointed to the crescent of blue showing through the distant arch. I would have to get out the map. Im not sure exactly which direction were facing. Mark responded. I think the only way out of here is back the

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way we jumped in, he added. Several seconds of silence. Each continued to gaze across the valley, think-ing about Marks last words. There has to be another way out, Ryan responded. Nodding in agreement, Jed dismissed the thought that they were stuck. He sat down, indicating that he intended to rest and enjoy the view. The oth-ers joined him. They caught their breath and drank from their water bottles and squinted in the relentless sunlight. Mark pulled out the map and named the distant arch. They did not truly rest; they only held still as each of them silently failed to resist the thought of being stuck. Finally, Ryan pointed out that they should head back. Lets look at this, he said. Howre we getting out of here? Mark jumped up quickly. Lets go, he said. Together they walked the entire wall of the hole, looking for handholds, or a slope gentle enough to smear their way up, or a chimney to stem. As they did so, they could not avoid crunching through cryptobiotic soil, thick after innumerable undisturbed years. After several minutes, it became clear that the walls of the hole were uniformly even and steep for the first ten or twelve feet up. Mark was right: the precise spot where they had entered the hole would provide the most direct and uncomplicated climb back out. Each of them tried several times. Each tried to simply smear his way up. Then each tried getting a run at it, jumping, and grasping for where the steep dive began to level out. They looked for rocks to pile up next to the wall but found none they could move. They tried to push sand up against the wall but found that any amount they could pile up easily melted away beneath their feet. Under the weight of such futility, they sat down. The heat of the day was subsiding; the shade where they sat began to extend itself. All three minds were racing, but no one spoke for several minutes. Then Jed sputtered sharply: Damn you, Mark. Damn you. Mark was silent. Even before Jeds outburst he was frightened and ashamed. Mark had not yet entertained the thought that they might die in that depression, but he could hear himself explaining to park rangers and police and parents, maybe even to reporters, how he led his friends into that spot. His sideprobably his ribs, he thoughtthrobbed with pain. He considered how they would spend the next day or so before tracking dogs


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sniffed them out or a search helicopter spotted them from above. In addition to what they were carrying, they had a pothole full of possibly alkali-free water. They would alternate between waiting out the heat of the day in the shade and standing at the ledge overlooking the valley so that one of them would always be visible to any potential rescuers from above. They would listen closely for potential rescuers on foot and scream like mad if they heard anything. They would huddle together at night if the cold became unbear-able. I cant believe this! Jed cried. I cant. What are you going to do about it, Mark? I get good grades. I have eighteen hours of AP credit. Im going to college! I have a girlfriendbut, but I keep the freaking commandments! I am supposed to go on a mission! My patriarchal blessing says Im going to have children. Children! Were going to get out of here, Jed said Ryan. Right now, we are going to pray. Each one of us is going to take a turn. Thats it. Were going to be fine. Each of them did pray as Ryan had said. Their prayers were simple, ear-nest. Were stuck and its getting dark. Help us to know what to do. Save us. Mark prayed last. We promise, Heavenly Father, Mark prayed, each of us will serve an honorable mission if our lives are preserved. Ryans heart pounded and he wanted to strangle his friend. He clamped down on that thought. He took a breath. Silently, he asked himself: if God made me an offer along those lines, wouldnt I take it? And is He? Am I endangering my own life by feeling, even at this moment, so uncertain? That feeling was unbearable. He wouldnt feign certainty, not even to save his own life. He knew that wouldnt get him very far anyway. But he resolved to somehow pry that feeling out of his heart. For now, he wanted to correct Mark, tell him how wrong it was to make that promise for him. But it wasnt the time. He had an idea.

S S SAs soon as Mark said Amen, Ryan spoke: I think two of us can boost the other one up to the rim. How does that help the other two? Jed asked, incredulous. He lowers something down for the others, Ryan replied. We dont have any rope! We dont have anything! There arent any decent tree branches for a hundred miles! Jed said, getting angry. Thanks for noth-

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ing, Ryan. Our pants, Ryan said. We make a rope out of our pants. Mark didnt speak, but with a grave look on his face he took off his hiking boots, undid his belt, and lowered his pants. Ryan and Jed did the same. They tied pant leg to pant leg and then worked out the remainder of the plan. Jed would kneel on his hands and knees. Ryan would stand on Jeds back. Mark would put a foot into Ryans interlaced hands. Ryan would lift Mark, who would lunge for the edge. After some fumbling and falling, Mark found himself sprawled across the wall, chest and arms above the point where the slope began to level out. Ryan and Jed were still supporting his weight. Moving from lifting to pushing, Ryan helped Mark slither higher and higher until he finally pulled himself completely out of the depression. Ryan jumped off Jeds back and grabbed their makeshift rope to toss up to Mark. Jed jumped up, brushing sand off his hands and bare knees. Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice called out. What happened to your pants, son? Mark had been standing on the edge looking down at Ryan and Jed. He turned to see a park ranger twenty yards away and rapidly approaching. The ranger was a wiry old man; he wore a silver white beard and the expression of someone choking back laughter and failing. Marks first thought was to somehow cover up. Despairing of thatand not wanting to make things worse by acting too ashamedhe turned to think of how to word his explanation. Hiking in your underpants, huh? the ranger asked in a boisterous voice, now only several steps away from Marks side. Out here this far, alone, hik-ing in your underpants. Well, I have to admit, thats a new one. Cant really see the advantage of underpants hiking, but maybe thats just me. Mark wanted to jump back in the hole, where there was at least a rock to stand behind. Although at first too amazed to move, Ryan and Jed did posi-tion themselves behind stone blocks on the floor of the depression. We got stuck, me and my friends, Mark gestured toward the hole. We were going to use our pants to climb out. The ranger stepped up to the ledge and looked in, noting instantly the heads and upper torsos of Jed and Ryan. I take it both of you also happen to be unencumbered by your pants at the moment?


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Ryan and Jed took that as derision and not a real question. The ranger temporarily lost his smile. So Im curious, gentlemen, how did all three of you somehow fall into that hole in the first place? Because no one, and I mean no one, registered to hike in the Fiery Furnace today. That is your car in the parking lot, isnt it? You know, the one parked next to the sign that says hikers must register with me prior to entering the formation? Sir, Im sorry, Mark said. Its my fault. Thats my car. Please go easy on us. The ranger nodded. I think you boys have probably suffered enough, he said. You may as well go ahead and get yourselves out of there because I dont have a rope and I wont be able to get back here with one until after dark.

S S SThey proceeded to execute the remainder of their plan, the park ranger look-ing on, occasionally snickering to himself or shaking his head in disbelief. Ryan tossed the makeshift rope up to Mark, who, after wrapping one end around his left wrist, grasped it tightly with both hands. Mark laid down on his stomach to anchor himself and lowered the rope into the hole. As Jed pulled himself up, Ryan pushed from below. Ryan then pulled himself up with the rope. They untied it hastily, took off their boots, and pulled up their pants. You guys know your way outta here? the ranger asked, turning away from them, down the canyon. We could use some help, Mark confessed. Gesturing with both hands, the ranger described prominent rocks and trees and finally the dry riverbed that would guide them back. They did not stop once to play, but made their way directly to Marks car. They got in the car, Mark behind the wheel. Ryan tried to read but could not concentrate. Both he and Jed watched the desert out their passenger side windows, gazing east as Marks car carried them northward to Salt Lake City. They did not speak. Jed fell asleep in the back seat. They were exhausted and wary of remote places.

S Editors note: This story is the secondplace winner of the 2005 Irreantum fiction contest.

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Jennifer Quist

The Man Lehi

Came back slowly,Shot full of metal splinters,

How can the steel be broken?

And you scoffed,Its provedthere can be no steel here.Brass needles spinning,Egyptian stickmen in leapfrog eyes and birds and ankhs forming and reformingin and out of squares.

Civilization starving For three bowsNever meant to feed us all.

The curve at last remembered,Green wood bowed almost to breaking,wonderingstring bitten fingershow there could ever be a heaven for me now.

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Bubbly

The infant blowing bubbles on her bare armslick, cottage cheese salivabreaks suction, sneers at the two fingers,still typing as if nothing ever happened.

The thinnest skin of her handtears under tiny crescent moons.Cursing in the baby tongue only she knows,he coughs curdled breastmilk onto his shirtfront.

Idiot, he calls,catching and stretching her scalp by hairy reins,

I am the word.

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Lon Young

Rumble of the Falls

The river drops here.Im leaning into the dry side of a boulder,its cold weight in my kidneys,in my ribs the rumble of the falls.

Ive come to hear the voice of God in the thunder.But to

Documents

Irreantum, Volume 7, No. 3, 2005