Montana 1948: Chapter 1 Summary & Analysis

We can glean right away that the inequality built into the fabric of this small-town society—the Sioux are relegated to some of the worst land in the state. This fact is almost glossed over, however, suggesting the degree to which the young David doesn’t question why the Sioux land is so bad. David mentions that the residents of Bentrock endure difficult weather conditions—which, while true, is ironically positioned in this section, following as it does the mention of the poverty on the reservations. Tellingly this narration refers to Mercer County as “peaceful”: in this way, the author David is embodying and communicating young David’s naiveté about the reality of his town.

Again the picture being painted is one that will be systemically torn down by the events of the story: this postwar small town America is not nearly as idyllic as it seems, and its war heroes are not so heroic.

David’s childish desires and expectations come to the foreground—he finds his father’s job boring and undemanding: his father doesn’t even need to carry a gun. For David the absence of old-western style violence means an absence of excitement and challenge altogether. His sense of the world is shaped by entertainment and toys. He is still a child, but his innocence will not last much longer

The question of identity is raised: we learn that Gail and Wesley construct identity differently. Gail believes Wesley’s profession prevents him from being his “true” self, and Wesley has clearly resisted her. The book will continue to wonder about what makes (or breaks) a person’s identity and sense of self. The difference between lawyer and sheriff also calls attention to the difference between law and justice.

Wesley, it is revealed, is torn between two loyalties. His father wants him to keep the Hayden name in office, but his wife (ostensibly for his sake) wishes he could move away from Grandpa Hayden, so that he no longer felt the pressure of his name. Grandpa’s corruption is also hinted at in this section. His desire to keep one family in charge is anti-democratic and betrays a love of power and prestige over a love of law. Wesley’s desires are notably absent from this description—his decision-making is entirely informed by the wants of his family.

David’s isolation worries his mother because it is perhaps inhibiting his growth. This is yet another ironic kind of gesture—by the end of this story, the idea that the countryside could protect David from the realities of adulthood is almost laughable. David’s childhood naiveté is accompanied by a kind of naiveté on the part of his mother, who will eventually realize nothing can prevent David from growing up. The realities of the external world will find him even in his isolation.

David’s love for Marie exists on a kind of boundary: he believes he is “in love” with her but he is in fact recognizing and appreciating that Marie takes care of him, that she is like family. David’s sexuality is just starting to emerge, but he is still a boy. Note also how he loves Marie unreservedly, without any sense of prejudice, and focuses on her personality. Many of the older white characters don’t see Marie as a “person” in this way.

David is blissfully unaware, as a child, of the injustices that Native Americans like Ronnie face. Though he admires and even “worships” Ronnie for his athletic prowess, he does not question it when Ronnie does not go to college. It is not until he is an adult that he recognizes prejudice for what it was—and Ronnie’s story takes on a darker and more complicated quality.

Though David and the rest of the family love Marie in an almost familial way, she is still made to sleep in a servant’s room—presumably because custom dictates Native American servants do so. Though she is “like” family, her race and position prevent her from being treated as such. Marie’s sickness brings out certain dynamics in the house: David is made uncomfortable, but also intrigued, by Marie’s exposed state. His mother treats Marie like a child, ignoring her wishes and insisting on care.

Marie’s weakness and fear begins to hint at the terrible reality (one of racial prejudice and abuse) lurking under the picturesque surface in Bentrock. The reader can begin to see that Frank is not “just” Uncle Frank—there’s something more to his identity.

Marie’s sickness reveals the first of many realities to David—that she cares for him not only out of generosity but also out of necessity—it is her job to do so. Once again Marie’s insistence about Frank is ignored, this time by Wesley, who dismisses her because of prejudice. He will not take her worries seriously because he believes she is a ‘superstitious Indian.”

Wesley is for the most part a good man—but the book emphasizes that even good, small town Americans are capable of certain evils. Part of David’s journey to adulthood involves reconciling his love and respect for his father with his father’s bigotry—which was undeniable, even if it was comparatively mild. His adult rebellion (in the form of wearing moccasins) demonstrates that he continues to grapple with these realities even as a grown-up.

David’s budding sexuality is evident in his feelings for Gloria—whom he recognizes is attractive. But the innocence and youthfulness of this crush is especially evident when it is introduced alongside complex marital troubles and the crass and cruel humor of Grandpa Hayden

Wesley and Frank bond over their mutual disdain for Native American beliefs and traditions—a trait that seems to have been passed down though the family. Gail’s displeasure is evident. She clearly cares more for Marie than she does for Frank.

The complicated dynamic between the Hayden boys and their father is fleshed out. Frank’s charisma, his accomplishments, his local fame—these all make him “more impressive” in David’s young eyes. David even feels sympathy, almost pity, for his somehow inferior father. Grandpa Hayden’s favoritism is also made evident. He has chosen Frank over Wesley before and will (as the reader will eventually discover) do so again.

The gravity of the situation becomes increasingly clear. Marie’s screams elicit disgust from Frank, disinterest from Wesley (who is more interested in promoting Norgaard’s beer), and concern from Gail. The family begins to split apart even in this early moment, foreshadowing the more dramatic fractures to come.

David’s discomfort around Frank suggests that he has already started to rethink Frank’s identity. Frank’s status and prestige no longer impress David, who is suddenly fearful of his uncle. Wesley remains unflinchingly on his brother’s side, sharing a beer and gossiping about Marie and her (in their opinion) inferior worldview. Once again their racism against Native Americans is apparent and, in Wesley’s case, makes him blind to what is going on.

David is perceptive enough to notice that his mother is unusually unhappy with Uncle Frank. Uncle Frank’s quickness to leave suggests that he has an idea why Gail is angry—his guilt is already being hinted at. Again we can see Wesley at the center of a familial conflict—his wife is against Frank and he is with him (at least for now).

David here makes one of several decisions that apparently bring his childhood to an end. But the idea that David’s innocence could have endured this conflict—that he could have remained blissfully unaware—is perhaps a childish notion in and of itself. Frank’s crime is finally revealed, exposing the bigotry and abuse he conceals under his charm and social status.

Wesley frantically tries to rationalize, presumably because Frank is brother, and he desperately wants this information to be untrue. Gail will not allow it though, and renders Frank’s crimes to Wesley in harsh language. This startles David, whose conception of his mother is challenged by her use of these words. Wesley’s response is strange, even to David, who expects that he will respond more emotionally to this news.

Wesley’s crisis of identity is explained. He cannot compute the information Gail is giving him unless he understands which Wesley she’s giving it to: should he act as a sheriff? As a brother? As a husband or employer? Gail is frustrated with the question—she believes Wesley is not defined by these categories. But Wesley feels he must choose one of these identities in order to act

David is coming to terms with the malleable and shifting nature of identity himself—he inspects Frank’s fingerprints, a tellingly childish imitation of criminal investigation—we can imagine he learned about it on television. But he has grown in his understanding of Uncle Frank—who is more, and more sinister, than his charming exterior.

Wesley’s first move in his investigation is to talk to his deputy (who was also his father’s deputy) and ask Gail to talk to Daisy to gage how much gossip about Frank has already gotten out. This move highlights that Wesley’s job as sheriff involves social maneuvering. The way the law operates is affected by the small town politics in Bentrock. It turns out Daisy has already heard Frank has been abusing Native American patients—though she uses euphemistic language to say so (to prevent David from understanding, but also, we imagine, to avoid facing the reality herself).

Wesley’s status as Frank’s brother, as a blood relative of a heinous, sexually abusive criminal, begins to dawn on both David and his mother. David is disgusted by his father’s resemblance to his uncle, and Gail lashes out as well. The book wonders about the meaning of biological relation. Does Wesley carry some of Frank’s evil and perversion in him simply because he is Frank’s brother and shares his blood? What do the actions of our family members say about us?

Where Gail is concerned with justice (and follows abstract ideals) Wesley is concerned with procedure, with law. Yet Wesley’s loyalty to law is perhaps also shield that lets him also be loyal to his father. The law is more complicated than justice. David’s remark about his father’s resistance to religion is telling: Wesley’s devotion to his biological family is almost dogmatic. Wilson, the novelist, is warning against such blind devotion to biological ties.

A troubling new fact comes to light—Wesley does not doubt Frank’s guilt. David must now contend not only with the reality of his Uncle’s crimes, but with his own father’s willful tolerance of those crimes. Wesley has been resisting action not because of doubt, but because of devotion to the “Hayden” name. David must comes to terms with the fact that his father is capable of such moral shortcoming.