Plainsong

Paperback | August 22, 2000

byKent Haruf

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"Ambitious, but never seeming so, Kent Haruf reveals a whole community as he interweaves the stories of a pregnant high school girl, a lonely teacher, a pair of boys abandoned by their mother, and a couple of crusty bachelor farmers. From simple elements, Haruf achieves a novel of wisdom and grace--a narrative that builds in strength and feeling until, as in a choral chant, the voices in the book surround, transport, and lift the reader off the ground."
-FROM THE CITATION FOR THE NATIONAL BOOK AWARD

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From Our Editors

This haunting novel by Kent Haruf invents a spare, unsentimental world that honours small town values. Plainsong interweaves the lives of a pregnant high-school girl, a pair of orphans, a lonely high school teacher and a couple of grumpy old farmers to weave a web of introspective drama. This moving look at modern man's cap...

From the Publisher

"Ambitious, but never seeming so, Kent Haruf reveals a whole community as he interweaves the stories of a pregnant high school girl, a lonely teacher, a pair of boys abandoned by their mother, and a couple of crusty bachelor farmers. From simple elements, Haruf achieves a novel of wisdom and grace--a narrative that builds in strength a...

From the Jacket

"Ambitious, but never seeming so, Kent Haruf reveals a whole community as he interweaves the stories of a pregnant high school girl, a lonely teacher, a pair of boys abandoned by their mother, and a couple of crusty bachelor farmers. From simple elements, Haruf achieves a novel of wisdom and grace--a narrative that builds in strength a...

Kent Haruf’s honors include a Whiting Foundation Award, a Stegner Award, a Frank Waters Award, and a special citation from the PEN/Hemingway Foundation. His novel Plainsong won the Mountains & Plains Booksellers Award and was a finalist for the National Book Award, the Los Angeles Times Book Prize, and the New Yorker Book Award. He l...

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Format:PaperbackDimensions:320 pages, 8 × 5.2 × 0.7 inPublished:August 22, 2000Publisher:Knopf Doubleday Publishing GroupLanguage:English

The following ISBNs are associated with this title:

ISBN - 10:0375705856

ISBN - 13:9780375705854

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Reviews

Rated 4 out of 5 by from WorthWhile This book called Plainsong, is an excellent book. It looks at the many difficult situations people go through in life. Victoria, one of the characters in this book is a young girl who gets pregnant. It shows all the things she has to go through, like losing her mother. It shows how a single father has to raise two young boys, because their mother goes crazy. These are real life situations, and you may even learn something from it. I know I did. These life stories can help you through your own problems. Two old men in this book learn how to accept and live with new things. It is an excellent book, and something you could really learn from. Enjoy!
Date published: 2001-05-03
Rated 3 out of 5 by from A Concept To Think About Plainsong is the story of three groups of people - a pregnant girl, a father of two, and two old bachleors. These three groups will become intertwined in very realistic and ordinary ways. Plainsong presents a look at everyday people dealing with their life issues. Haruf paints a picture for the reader of the need for family and challenges the reader to think about what constitutes a family. The message that I gained from reading Plainsong was that of family by choice. Once you have love, caring and commitment within a group of people you have the seeds of a family. Plainsong was an interesting novel to read. Often as readers we expect the deep and dark rather than the ordinary. This is a new concept to behold. I have spent alot of time reflecting on Plainsong and the strongest message is of the necessity family in any form. I would recommend this book.
Date published: 2001-03-06

Extra Content

Read from the Book

Here was this man Tom Guthrie in Holt standing at the back window in the kitchen of his house smoking cigarettes and looking out over the back lot where the sun was just coming up. When the sun reached the top of the windmill, for a while he watched what it was doing, that increased reddening of sunrise along the steel blades and the tail vane above the wooden platform. After a time he put out the cigarette and went upstairs and walked past the closed door behind which she lay in bed in the darkened guest room sleeping or not and went down the hall to the glassy room over the kitchen where the two boys were.The room was an old sleeping porch with uncurtained windows on three sides, airy-looking and open, with a pinewood floor. Across the way they were still asleep, together in the same bed under the north windows, cuddled up, although it was still early fall and not yet cold. They had been sleeping in the same bed for the past month and now the older boy had one hand stretched above his brother's head as if he hoped to shove something away and thereby save them both. They were nine and ten, with dark brown hair and unmarked faces, and cheeks that were still as pure and dear as a girl's.Outside the house the wind came up suddenly out of the west and the tail vane turned with it and the blades of the windmill spun in a red whir, then the wind died down and the blades slowed and stopped.You boys better come on, Guthrie said.He watched their faces, standing at the foot of the bed in his bathrobe. A tall man with thinning black hair, wearing glasses. The older boy drew back his hand and they settled deeper under the cover. One of them sighed comfortably.Ike.What?Come on now.We are.You too, Bobby.He looked out the window. The sun was higher, the light beginning to slide down the ladder of the windmill, brightening it, making rungs of rose-gold.When he turned again to the bed he saw by the change in their faces that they were awake now. He went out into the hall again past the closed door and on into the bathroom and shaved and rinsed his face and went back to the bedroom at the front of the house whose high windows overlooked Railroad Street and brought out shirt and pants from the closet and laid them out on the bed and took off his robe and got dressed. When he returned to the hallway he could hear them talking in their room, their voices thin and clear, already discussing something, first one then the other, intermittent, the early morning matter-of-fact voices of little boys out of the presence of adults. He went downstairs.Ten minutes later when they entered the kitchen he was standing at the gas stove stirring eggs in a black cast-iron skillet. He turned to look at them. They sat down at the wood table by the window. Didn't you boys hear the train this morning?Yes, Ike said.You should have gotten up then.Well, Bobby said. We were tired.That's because you don't go to bed at night.We go to bed.But you don't go to sleep. I can hear you back there talking and fooling around.They watched their father out of identical blue eyes. Though there was a year between them they might have been twins. They'd put on blue jeans and flannel shirts and their dark hair was uncombed and fallen identically over their unmarked foreheads. They sat waiting for breakfast and appeared to be only half awake.Guthrie brought two thick crockery plates of steaming eggs and buttered toast to the table and set them down and the boys spread jelly on the toast and began to eat at once, automatically, chewing, leaning forward over their plates. He carried two glasses of milk to the table.He stood over the table watching them eat. I have to go to school early this morning, he said. I'll be leaving in a minute.Aren't you going to eat breakfast with us? Ike said. He stopped chewing momentarily and looked up.I can't this morning. He recrossed the room and set the skillet in the sink and ran water into it.Why do you have to go to school so early?I have to see Lloyd Crowder about somebody.Who is it?A boy in American history.What'd he do? Bobby said. Look off somebody's paper?Not yet. I don't doubt that'll be next, the way he's going.Ike picked at something in his eggs and put it at the rim of his plate. He looked up again. But Dad, he said. What.Isn't Mother coming down today either?I don't know, Guthrie said. I can't say what she'll do. But you shouldn't worry. Try not to. It'll be all right. It doesn't have anything to do with you.He looked at them closely. They had stopped eating altogether and were staring out the window toward the barn and corral where the two horses were.You better go on, he said. By the time you get done with your papers you'll be late for school.He went upstairs once more. In the bedroom he removed a sweater from the chest of drawers and put it on and went down the hall and stopped in front of the closed door. He stood listening but there was no sound from inside. When he stepped into the room it was almost dark, with a feeling of being hushed and forbidding as in the sanctuary of an empty church after the funeral of a woman who had died too soon, a sudden impression of static air and unnatural quiet. The shades on the two windows were drawn down completely to the sill. He stood looking at her. Ella. Who lay in the bed with her eyes closed. He could just make out her face in the halflight, her face as pale as schoolhouse chalk and her fair hair massed and untended, fallen over her cheeks and thin neck, hiding that much of her. Looking at her, he couldn't say if she was asleep or not, but he believed she was not. He believed she was only waiting to hear what he had come in for, and then for him to leave.Do you want anything? he said.She didn't bother to open her eyes. He waited. He looked around the room. She had not yet changed the chrysanthemums in the vase on the chest of drawers and there was an odor rising from the stale water in the vase. He wondered that she didn't smell it. What was she thinking about.Then I'll see you tonight, he said.He waited. There was still no movement.All right, he said. He stepped back into the hall and pulled the door shut and went on down the stairs.As soon as he was gone she turned in the bed and looked toward the door. Her eyes were intense, wide-awake, outsized. After a moment she turned again in the bed and studied the two thin pencils of light shining in at the edge of the window shade. There were fine dust motes swimming in the dimly lighted air like tiny creatures underwater, but in a moment she closed her eyes again. She folded her arm across her face and lay unmoving as though asleep.Downstairs, passing through the house, Guthrie could hear the two boys talking in the kitchen, their voices clear, high-pitched, animated again. He stopped for a minute to listen. Something to do with school. Some boy saying this and this too and another one, the other boy, saying it wasn't any of that either because he knew better, on the gravel playground out back of school. He went outside across the porch and across the drive toward the pickup. A faded red Dodge with a deep dent in the left rear fender. The weather was clear, the day was bright and still early and the air felt fresh and sharp, and Guthrie had a brief feeling of uplift and hopefulness. He took a cigarette from his pocket and lit it and stood for a moment looking at the silver poplar tree. Then he got into the pickup and cranked it and drove out of the drive onto Railroad Street and headed up the five or six blocks toward Main. Behind him the pickup lifted a powdery plume from the road and the suspended dust shone like bright flecks of gold in the sun.

Bookclub Guide

US1. Why might Kent Haruf have chosen Plainsong as the title for this novel? What meaning, or meanings, does the title have in relation to Haruf's story and characters?2. How does the small town of Holt figure as a character in each novel? How are the characters in each of the novels completely believable and different? How does Haruf repeat some character traits in his novels and to what effect? How do the characters and the image of the town change from book to book? 3. Few hints are given in the novel about what life might have been like for the Guthrie family before Ella left. What do you imagine that life to have been like? What sort of a marriage did Tom and Ella have, and what made it go wrong? What might account for Ella's nearly total withdrawal even from the children she seems to love?4. How do the three teenagers having sex in the abandoned house inform and affect Ike and Bobby? What does this sight tell them about sex? About love? About the relationships and power struggle between men and women?5. Do you believe there are marked differences between Raymond and Harold McPheron? If so, what are they?6. Why do you think the McPheron brothers have chosen to spend their lives together rather than start families of their own? Are they lonely or unhappy before Victoria's arrival, or do they feel sufficient in themselves? What does Maggie mean when she tells them, "This is your chance" [p. 110]?7. What parallels can you draw between the McPheron brothers and the young Guthrie boys? Why is the relationship so close in each case? What sort of a future do you see for the Guthrie boys? Do you think they will marry and have families?8. The McPheron brothers think they know nothing about young girls. Is that the case? Has their solitary life close to the earth handicapped them so far as human relations go, or has it, in fact, provided them with hidden advantages?9. What examples of parents abandoning children--either by desertion, emotional withdrawal, or death--can be found in this novel? What do these incidents have in common? How does abandonment affect children, and how does it shape their lives and relationships?10. It is usually women who are portrayed as nurturers, but in this novel, men--Tom Guthrie and the McPheron brothers--provide shelter and comfort. How do men differ from women in this respect? What do these men offer that a woman might not be able to?11. "These are crazy times," Maggie Jones says. "I sometimes believe these must be the craziest times ever" [p. 124]. What does she mean by this? In what way are our times "crazier" than earlier eras? How does such "craziness" affect the lives of young people such as Victoria, Ike, and Bobby?12. What motives and feelings might have driven Tom to sleep with Judy when it was really Maggie he was interested in? Why might Maggie have seemed momentarily frightening or intimidating to him?13. Why do the Guthrie boys befriend Iva Stearns? What are they looking for in this tentative friendship? Do they find what they are seeking?14. Why do the Guthrie boys go to the McPheron brothers after Iva's death rather than to someone closer to home, like their father or Maggie? Is there any indication that they connect Iva's death with their mother's abandonment? Why do they place their mother's bracelet on the train tracks, then bury it?15. The inhabitants of Holt and its surroundings are extremely laconic: they speak only sparingly, as though they mistrust words. What might cause this? In what way does it affect the characters' relationships with one another?16. How would you describe Holt, Colorado? What are its limitations, its disadvantages, and what are its strengths? In what ways is it typical of any American small town, and in what ways is it different? What help does it provide for people who need healing, like the characters in this book?17. Plainsong depicts some unusual "family" groups. How might Kent Haruf define family?18. For general discussion of Kent Haruf's works1. How does Kent Haruf's writing style change from his first novel to his last, the National Book Award finalist Plainsong? What is the effect of Haruf's style in each and use of language on the reader? 2. How does the small town of Holt figure as a character in each novel? How are the characters in each of the novels completely believable and different? How does Haruf repeat some character traits in his novels and to what effect? How do the characters and the image of the town change from book to book?

From Our Editors

This haunting novel by Kent Haruf invents a spare, unsentimental world that honours small town values. Plainsong interweaves the lives of a pregnant high-school girl, a pair of orphans, a lonely high school teacher and a couple of grumpy old farmers to weave a web of introspective drama. This moving look at modern man's capacity for pointless cruelty as well as common decency received rave reviews from the San Francisco Chronicle, Newsweek and The New York Times Book Review. Haruf is also the author of The Tie That Binds and Where You Once Belonged.

Editorial Reviews

"A novel so foursquare, so delicate and lovely . . . it has the power to exalt the reader." --The New York Times Book Review"Resonant and meaningful . . . . A song of praise in honor of the lives it chronicles [and] a story about people's ability to adapt and redeem themselves, to heal the wounds of isolation by moving, gropingly and imperfectly, toward community." --Richard Tillinghast, The Washington Post Book World"A compelling and compassionate novel. . . . [With] his sheer assurance as a storyteller, [Mr. Haruf] has conjured up an entire community, and ineluctably immersed the reader in its dramas." --Michiko Kakutani, The New York Times"A work as flawlessly unified as a short story by Poe or Chekhov." --Jon Hassler, Chicago Tribune"Haunting, virtuosic, inimitable." --Sarah Saffian, San Francisco Chronicle"If the novelist invents a world, then Mr. Haruf has shaped a place of enormous goodness... The story itself--spare, unsentimental, rooted in action--honors the values of the community it describes." --Lisa Michaels, "A moving look at our capacity for both pointless cruelty and simple decency, our ability to walk out of the wreckage of one family and build a stronger one where that one used to stand." --Jeff Giles, Newsweek"A work as flawlessly unified as a short story by Poe or Chekhov." --Jon Hassler, Chicago Tribune

Employee Review

There seems to be no way a pregnant teenager, two old farmers, a teacher and a pair of lonely little boys could ever share anything in common, but this author joins their individual stories together as seamlessly and beautifully as a piece of music. A wonderful, heart-lifting tale of the invisible forces that hold a community together, and the harmonious and discordant ways our lives interact.