Even though I have never considered myself a"feminazi," I couldn't help but feel repulsed by the blatant objectification of women old and young, smart and dumb, fat and thin in "The Farmer's Daughter," Jim Harrison's newest collection of novellas.
In addition to this, the three novellas "The Farmer's Daughter," " Brown Dog Redux" and "The Games of Night" have a great deal of unused potential. Harrison has created an independent, intelligent and truly striking heroine in Sarah, the title character of "The Farmer's Daughter." Yet instead of allowing the character room to thrive on the page, Harrison dwells on the less important aspects of the character, often permitting Sarah's appearance to steal the focus.
Likewise, "The Games of Night" features a compelling premise in which the narrator is plagued by monthly "seizures" of intense hunger for raw flesh only to be dragged down by a repetitive plot that once again focuses too often on carnal details. The story admittedly provides a refreshing take on the hackneyed werewolf or vampire tale, replacing paper-thin romance with reflections on pain, regret and control; but Harrison inserts an overwhelming amount of sordid, unenlightening details of the characters' sexual activities (considerable), sexual thoughts (constant) and sexual desires (infinite) that ultimately detract from the story as a whole.
Often, the carnality of Harrison's novels shows up in the manner in which male characters regard women. When the bloodthirsty narrator of "Games" describes how he hunts the deer meat that he craves, he refers to the female prey as "the tastiest eating."
Perhaps more concretely, in "Brown Dog Redux," the eponymous protagonist Brown Dog sleeps with virtually every female he meets. To be fair, the character has some sympathetic traits he tenderly cares for his motherless outcast of a stepdaughter yet, once again, Harrison's preoccupation with sexuality overshadows these positive characteristics, tainting B.D.'s character and the story as a whole.
This principle holds true for each of the novellas. Potentially riveting plots and three-dimensional characters are subordinated to a preoccupation with sex, with men portrayed as testosterone-filled, virile animals and women as the objects of their desire. Worse, Harrison does not even seem cognizant of the illicit nature of the relationships in his stories. The 15-year-old Sarah finishes her chronicle as she waits for her true love a 35-year-old with a 13-year-old daughter and Harrison obliviously expects us to celebrate.
Perhaps the largest problem with "The Farmer's Daughter" is that, as noted above, Harrison emphasizes Sarah's attractive appearance more than her intelligence. Sarah's reading of the classics, philosophical musings and piano skills are all impressive potentially even more so than the sway of her hips or her silhouette. If Harrison ever grasps this concept, his stories will be far more compelling.
Of course, it is possible that Harrison intended his sexual focus to realistically depict the rural setting of his novellas and emphasize humanity's natural preoccupation with sex. But if this was the case, Harrison's higher purpose was lost on me the sexual details commandeered so much attention that it was difficult to process anything else.
The book jacket of "The Farmer's Daughter" displays a scene of peaceful isolation: a forest of lonely pines. This is the material of Harrison's most celebrated works, including 1979's "Legends of the Fall." It is what Harrison knows and what he should have written about. His preoccupation with sex destroyed the potential of what could have been a truly amazing work.
