Into the mythic
Before the Wind Jim Lynch Bond Street Books 304 pp; $24.95
At least three factors make writing an i nter- generational family epic extremely difficult. First, every fictional family, Tolstoyan or not, has to be unhappy in its own unique way. Next, the siblings must have shared characteristics, both physical and physiological, yet remain individualized. Finally, harder still is that the writer must make the family feel real to each and every reader, which is tricky since we all have a real one. Whether blended, fractured, unknown or so nuclear it glows, we all have intense firsthand knowledge of what being part of a family feels like. To create a believable fictional family — one that’s susceptible to its own internal political dynamics and idiosyncrasies, which suffers under and is sustained by a shared history — is a complicated task.
In his fourth novel, Before the Wind, Jim Lynch pulls it off.
The family at the heart of the novel goes by the name Johannssen. The already larger-than-life family patriarch Bobo claims that they are direct descendants of that most famous of Nordic explorers, Leif Erikson. Vikings no more, the Johannssens have settled down near Puget Sound in the Pacific Northwest, although they still have a lust for adventure, exploration and the sea. For two generations they’ve been the most famous boat-building family on the west coast. But as it often does between the second and third generations, something has gone amiss.
Bobo can’t understand why none of his three children believes that keeping the family business afloat is a worthy devotion. The more he pushes, the faster they run away. As the novel opens, the oldest and only daughter Ruby has fled not only her family but the entire continent, and is working on a floating hospital that gives aid to needy Africans. The youngest, Bernard, is a wanted outlaw: an eco-pirate fighting the oneper cent on the seven seas. Only Josh, the middle child, has stayed behind, trying to mend what’s left of his family in much the same way he repairs lost-cause sailboats at a local marina.
Lynch, a former journalist, uses the craft of that occupation to make his fiction resemble objectively documented facts. Parts of Before the Wind read not only as a manual on family dynamics and politics, but also on the mechanics and techniques of sailing — the dominant image in the book. All three of the Johannssen children escape the family’s obsession with sailing only by stumbling into a new relationship with the sea. By interweaving family with sailing, Lynch has brought out a hidden parallel: both are steeped in romance. We don’t always think of our relationships with our families as romantic — that’s a concept usually associated with couples — but with the need to stick by family through good times and bad, the petty squabbles and epic battles, family relationships can be equally as disappointing. Romantic love is often, at its core, a set of ideals impossible to live up to.
Before the Wind largely takes place during a week where all three of the siblings unexpectedly return to their decrepit ancestral home. With three generations of Johannssens in such close quarters, the fact that they’re all cut from stock cloth becomes obvious. The father is domineering and overbearing. The grandfather is wise but lovably addled. The daughter gives of herself until there’s nothing left to give. The middle child longs to escape from the family but makes it only halfway. The youngest brother manages to break all the way free, but gets broken in the process. You’ve met these characters before, and you’ll meet them again, but this isn’t a bad thing. Lynch’s considerable talents have successfully expanded these oftenseen characters into a larger idea: what could have been formulaic instead becomes mythic.
This comes through in the family’s attempt to return to its former glory through competing in a prestigious sailboat race. In the climatic moment — of the contest as well as the novel — all the Johannssens become crew, and pilot a sailboat of their own design and construction. As they race towards the finish line, it’s the first time in years the entire family has banded together, working toward a shared goal. But just as in every family, from yours to Zeus’s, good intentions can’t overcome sibling rivalry, projected aspirations and personal motivations.
Lynch’s greatest success with the Johannssens is to show just how much of our personalities are formed by our family’s expectations. Even in the ways we resist becoming what our families want us to be, we’re nonetheless the result of rebelling against those expectations.
The flight of the Johannssen siblings illuminates the inherent problem with escape plans, which every generation eventually discovers — you take your family with you. If you’re trying to sail away, no matter how gifted you are with the rudder or how able you are to hoist the sail at the perfect moment, your problems can travel faster than the wind. No matter what your destination is, they’re going to arrive there long before you do.