I remember when Zenna Henderson died. As with many people whom you'd really LIKE to know about, it wasn't reported in major media--I learned about it from Locus. According to biographical sources, she'd only have been about 66 when she died, though she looked much older.It's doubtful whether she'd have written any more if she'd lived longer, however. She was a careful craftswoman, and her works were few but intricate.This book was most likely put together in response to wide popular demand. It takes the People back to the loss of the Home, and through to the return of some who went to the New Home.The bridge story is of a precocious little girl and her father, coming to Earth from the New Home to arrange fosterage of the child after the loss of her mother. I should point out that there's FAR too much infant mortality in this book. Too many babies die unborn or in the first years of life. It's as if Henderson was unable to comprehend the notion that anything might be done to prevent such losses, even among the learned People. There's also a bigoted doctor in this story, who apparently really believes in the nonsensical notion of disposable people. Not a good choice, in my belief. How did somebody with that sort of attitude make it through medical school? It uneasily reminds me of the Nazi Doctors in Lifton's book, and especially of the subtitle of that book. "Medical Killing And The Psychology of Genocide". You'd think that Henderson, who had had close experience with the Japanese-American 'relocation' camps, would know better.The justification for the stories is Bethie's 'Assembly' of stories for her daughter (who appears in the last story). A few humans get told these stories, as a sort of ransom for the care they gave to the lost child and her father.The individual stories:(1) Deluge: If you'd wondered about Bethie's Mother's (Eve's) history, this will give you a rather better introduction than you'll probably like. Getting to know people many of whom are horribly abused later personally and by name makes it harder to deal with their later sufferings. This story is told from the point of view of Eva-Lee, Eve's grandmother, who is as puzzled by her own impending dissolution as by that of the Home.In this story Henderson pursues her own quarrel with God. She tries to be the advocate of a 'Presence' that would destroy the Home apparently for no better reason than that the People were getting too comfortable in their nest. But she can't really believe that, and her pretexts ring hollow. For one thing, what about the OTHER life in the Home? Even if it might arguably be better for the People to get out and explore (they'd given up space travel generations before), what good does it do the toolas and the feathers and the flamen and the koomatka and other living things, to destroy the Home? Even if nothing is ultimately lost (because it all returns to the Presence (?to be sent out again someday? This part is left (probably deliberately) vague), the loss of THIS life is unredeemable, and the non-People, at least, get little or no preparation or warning. Even the People don't get much, truth be known. They have time to prepare lifeboats--but barely enough--they leave the Home only days before its ending. And it's evident that the Groups on the lifeboats did not have any ancestors (called 'Befores' in this story)who actually knew how to LAND a spacecraft.(2) Angels Unawares: The community of Grafton's Vow in this story would make a good venue for a horror story. Henderson was well aware of the dangers of fanaticism, and she tried to distinguish between such 'aberrations' and people of 'good faith'. But she's unfortunately too good at delineating the pathologies, and not good enough at presenting the healthy alternatives. One thing that struck me as odd from the beginning was that there was no apparent attempt to police the cult, so that the people of Grafton's Vow were able to put their twisted beliefs into horrific action, and murder very nearly an entire family without any outsiders apparently even realizing what happened. There are many biblical verses cited in this story. One is overt--the people of Grafton's Vow use the 'suffer a witch to live' verse to justify their murders. But the other one which the man who adopts Lytha uses in rebuttal is not presented so clearly: it's the one that says "...and do not oppress the widow or the orphan, the stranger or the poor, and do not devise evil in your hearts against one another." (3) Troubling of The Waters: This story establishes dating fairly precisely--depending on whether you consider 'the Turn of The Century' to be 1900 or 1901 (there was substantial debate at the time), the People arrived on Earth in 1893 or 1894. This is also the story in which infant mortality is the most troubling. The narrator's mother must have been pregnant at least half of the previous 15 years--she produced at least seven children in that period, of whom only 2 survived birth. Perfectly formed children, unable to catch their first breath. Timmy's psychological counseling is of some help to the bereaved isolates--but a good midwife would have been a treasure beyond rubies.When I first read this story, I was troubled by the resolution. I'd heard of artesian wells and springs, of course, but I didn't know enough about them to spot the catch. I've learned more since. I never did admire the father who insisted on becoming a farmer in an area not suited to agriculture at any time--but I was prepared to make allowances, until I learned the real problem. Those artesian wells are far from inexhaustible. The aquifer they're on is no longer being recharged. That aquifer (which now supplements the 'sometime' streams and rivers fed primarily by snowmelt from the mountains) was originally filled by the outflow from glacial lakes during the Ice Ages (this had unexpected consequences betimes--the Channeled Scablands in eastern Washington state were formed by at least one collapse of an ice dam holding back glacial Lake Missoula). Those lakes have mostly dried up entirely, leaving places like Death Valley and the Great Salt Lake--badlands with little or no water (and that so briny it can support little life). The water is no longer being fed into the recharge zones. But it wouldn't get in anyway--those recharge zones have been silted up for centuries.To recharge those sealed aquifers, it would be necessary to open up those recharge zones (and KEEP them open), and somehow transport teratonnes of water (?as snow?) to reservoirs there, essentially recreating Lake Missoula, at least. This is a project that makes even the largest dam projects in the area look lilliputian by comparison. I doubt if even the surviving Old Ones of the Group could manage it--but the 'teener' Timmy is certainly not up to it. At most, he can buy them about a century of water. Then they'll have to go back to the sometime creeks and rivers, and hope that the snowpack holds up.I was most bemused in this story by the eccentric tuition method of the father in the piece. The habit of answering the last question but one is a method of keeping people on their toes, perhaps...but I don't know if it would work very well in the long run. You'd have to learn to keep a working file of questions you'd asked in your memory, and sort through to try to match questions and answers. Also, I never heard of using tea to treat burns before. It's an odd remedy (perhaps a folk remedy from Europe?), and I don't know how well it would work. But it does tend to underline the fact that even the extremely isolated 'pioneer' communities must have had sustained trade links with the outside world. Coffee is farmed only in tropical regions (mostly mountainous ones, by preference). At that time the majority of coffee in the US would be from Latin America, because the African plantations were very far away, and the Hawai'ian ones would only just have become (marginally) available. As for tea...a quick search reveals only one tea plantation in the Western Hemisphere, in South Carolina. And I doubt that one is as old as 1893/4. Tea imports must have made the tea as rare in the Arizona/New Mexico territories as water in the drought at that time--making it a double extravagance to make up enough tea for compresses. The mother must have been very sure the tea would help, to be willing to risk it.(4) Return: Contrary to the teaser, I did NOT like this story. The abusive behavior toward Debbie is severely disturbing to me: and worst of all is when she turns these attitudes toward herself during labor. It's probably lucky she wasn't killed by the stress. Ok, so she was being childish and petulant. And bigoted, to boot. All traits that are not worthy, especially in the powerful. But what actual HARM did she do? She lashed out at people who were trying to help her--but only verbally, except for one instance of breakage. If paramedics took offense at THAT sort of thing, they'd retire very early. People in traumatic situations (and Debbie's is very bad) often take relief in creative expression of their pain. This is normal and healthy, and while it's inconvenient to the Good Samaritans, it shouldn't excite abusive returns. If the function of 'discipline' is to force people to internalize their suffering, then 'discipline' is a pathological force. But I've always thought this was true. Everytime I was exhorted to practice 'discipline', it developed that what was expected was that I do things I didn't want to at all, and do them cheerfully--and as for thanking people later for the lessons, trust me, I never did. I didn't learn anything by swotting away that I wouldn't have learned more quickly, more permanently, and more beneficially by study--which comes, by the way from a word meaning 'eager'. If you're not having a good time, you're not studying. 'Study hard' is one of your more pernicious oxymorons.A little sympathy would almost certainly have gone a lot further with Debbie than recriminations and hostile demands that she get over her losses, and stop 'self-indulgent' mourning.That aside, I did like the description of Thann-too as 'Child Within'. I liked the description of the lack of thoughtlessness and messiness on the New Home, and the complaints about its deleterious effects on the psyche. These few good elements usually get me past my reluctance to read this particular story: but I have to hesitate, take a deep breath, and get a running start to get through it, every time.(5) Shadow on The Moon: The 'Doubting Thomas' in this story devotes himself obsessively to realizing his son's dream. It really doesn't matter to him what that dream IS...it happens that it's the same as that of the boy Remy (to go to the Moon). What matters is that it was his son's dream, and his son can't realize it. The father's obsessive dedication is not a matter of devoting his life to anything (he has no life left to devote), but rather a matter of devoting his fiercely postponed death to it. This is a ghost in the truest sense--although his body retains some semblance of life, it's a false ruddiness.I should point out that the argument that it's blameworthy to devote yourself to achieving something like space travel is one of the main reasons the People made such a botchup of their landing on Earth. Wasn't there ANYBODY on the Home who still nurtured that sort of dreams? Not obsessively...obsession is always pathological. But wasn't there anyone who still 'traveled in spaceships'? No itchy feet at all? No curiosity or spirit of adventure?In the leadup to one of these stories, there's an uneasy query about whether 'racial memory' can become as vicarious and unoriginal as watching movies and television. Well, maybe--with a caveat. Watching television, movies, etc is necessarily largely vicarious--but that doesn't preclude creative interaction. If the rerealized visions are a spur to one's own creations (as in fanzines), the reliving of others' memories can be a springboard to new discovery. But if one simply subsumes one's own identity into the story, there's nothing new to be learned, even if the story was previously entirely unknown to to audience.As in the case of Pilgrimage, the bridge story is simply abandoned at the onset of the last story, and never taken up again. What happened to the storytellers? To the audience? To the children? For example, Thann-too is introduced in the penultimate story--and never seen again, though his mother is the conduit of the last two stories. And what WAS the emergency that Bethie was called away on? It's said that Bethie is a consulting diagnostic--but there are few instances where she's actually shown in action. It might have made for an interesting sequel to have a series of stories about cases Bethie and Dr Curtis worked on, for example.
The People #1 - PilgrimageThe People #2 - No Different FleshAuthor: Zenna HendersonI love this series - re-read it regularly! Most of the stories [but not the thread connecting them] have appeared independently in various science fiction and fantasy magazines and some short story collections. The two books have also been collected in the omnibus edition Ingathering: The Complete People Stories of Zenna Henderson.Although she was not as well known [or as prolific] as Heinlein and Asimov and Norton, Zenna Henderson is truly one of the Golden Age masters. Like most great authors she uses her stories to ask - and answer - important questions. In the case of the People stories that question might be - what if alien people crash land on earth, and what if they are different - perhaps even better than us? The People are a race from another planet who become marooned on earth, many injured and killed, most of them separated from each other and not knowing if they are the only survivors. The People have the very best of human qualities: love, gentleness, spirituality; and also special powers of healing, levitation and other frequently miraculous abilities.PilgrimageBefore talking about the story I want to give credit to her skills as a writer. Her setting simply glows with the color and heat of the American Southwest. Her people are fully visualized, their emotions vividly portrayed. The plots of the different stories are intense and page turning.There is a thread which binds the short stories together - the story of Lea who is suicidal but is dragged back from the brink [literally] by a chance-met member of the people. The stories she listens to about their past, their Home, and the landing which scattered and shattered them slowly bring her back to feeling hope...No Different Flesh This book tells the story of a couple, Mark and Meris, who, one stormy night, find a young girl who has fallen in a capsule from the sky, and who has special abilities. Maris and Mark, still grieving the loss of their own baby, must come to terms with the emotional issues that caring for the young girl, Lala, creates in both of them. What follows is a plot that will involve the reader in the magic, compassion and sense of rightness that the People evoke.In Pilgrimage, as in The People: No Different Flesh, the plot shifts between the present day story, and stories about the People from their past, which comprise the People's race memory. Included as one of these memories told to Mark and Meris is a short story, "Deluge", which has appeared in some short story collections. "Deluge" gives the reader a taste of the magical and deeply fulfilling way of life on the People's home planet and tells how the People came to leave it. Other memories tell us what happened to various individuals of the People as they arrived on earth. These add texture and interest to the present-day story, and include events of terrible persecution of the People as well as stories of personal tragedy and joy.One of the continuing themes in these stories are teachers and teaching and just how much difference they can make in others lives. As a teacher myself, I reread these books to remind me why I was teaching and to refill the well of compassion which sometimes gets drained pretty dry in all of us.If you're looking for Lara Croft or Indiana Jones - these books are not for you. They will never be made into summer blockbuster movies. These stories frequently require access to the kleenex box but still manage to provide an overall feeling of uplift and hope. And that's something we could all use a lot more of.
Do You like book The People: No Different Flesh (1967)?
I will remember until I die the hot flat, horrible campground my grandparents dragged the family to and there I discovered The People when my mother finished No Different Flesh and handed it to me to read. The campground in all it horribleness faded away and I became entwined in the lives of other people.Zenna Henderson unwittingly sparked my first religious crisis when she introduced me to Exodus 22:18 - "Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live". And at the tender age of 14 or 15, I started to think about the nature of prejudicism and the way religion becomes a shield against fear.
—Kris
So here's your obscure literary comparison question for today: Ayn Rand is to Ursula Le Guin as Stephenie Meyer is to... Give up? Well, I think you can make a decent case for "Zenna Henderson". The parallels with Meyer are striking. Henderson was raised as a Mormon, and made her name writing about "The People", a group of human-like extraterrestrials who live among normal folks in rural America. The People have unusual powers, which they normally hide but can occasionally reveal to trusted humans. There is a strong religious/spiritual component. I find Meyer's vampires, even the ostensibly good ones, utterly appalling. They live by exploiting ordinary human beings, but only feel contempt for them; the scariest aspect of the series is Bella's desperate desire to join this select group, irrespective of the cost, and the fact that this is presented in entirely positive terms. Henderson's People, in contrast, are moral and caring. They are like us, but a little better, and they are scrupulous about only using their alien talents to good ends. The series is quite competently written, and the South-West background (Henderson lived most of her life in Arizona) is clearly realised. The author's warm, human voice is very memorable.As is so often the case, however, the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong. Meyer has become one of the most widely read authors of her generation, while Henderson is an minor 60s SF writer that most people haven't even heard of. But I'm glad to see that the ones who do still read her have a high opinion of her work: the 369 ratings posted here average an impressive 4.34. Not quite forgotten yet.
—Manny
It's a collection of short stories about extraterrestial aliens called the People who come to earth and live among us, interacting with us when fate throws us together. It's unique in that it's one of the few openly religious SF books in that time frame, and also in its style and tone. It's gentle, spiritual, and about as opposite from traditional sixties SF as could be.The stories are a mixed bag, but they get better further on, and the People are a winsome race. You feel real sadness when they have to leave their Home, or are separated from others. Good, but different vintage SF.
—D.M. Dutcher
