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The Good Lord Willing and the Creek Don't Rise

By John Ketwig (reviewer)

The Good Lord Willing and the Creek Don't Rise: Pentimento Memories of Mom and Me
by Robert W. Norris
(Tin Gate, 2023)

Some time ago, I received an email from Robert W. Norris asking if I would review his book for The Veteran. Of course, I said yes. I was intrigued because the author lives in Japan, and his story includes declaring himself a conscientious objector to the Vietnam War and going to prison.

My Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary defines pentimento as referring to penitence, or regrets or sorrow for sins or faults, but more specifically (and mysteriously) as a reappearance in a painting of a design that has been painted over.

I'm retired and read as many books as I can cram into my schedule. I have a stack of more than forty I am looking forward to reading, and more and more keep coming along. I have a T-shirt that reads: "one does not stop buying books because there is no more shelf space." I've grown impatient in my reading. All too often, I lose interest in a book by about 100 pages. I set them aside and never regain enough interest to go back to them. Similarly, I wander through an art museum and contemplate one painting, but I walk right past another that just doesn't appeal to me. I fully appreciate the time and stress the painter or author has devoted to his work, but sometimes, it doesn't register with me.

The Good Lord Willing and the Creek Don't Rise is 469 pages long. I admit, I didn't read them all. Tin Page Books, the British publisher, is located in England and offers services for the author who wishes to self-publish but is unfamiliar with publishing. I must admit, they have put together a handsome package, inside and out. There are lots of photographs and endorsements from a number of writers, including VVAW member Michael Uhl and Rosa del Duca, author of Breaking Cadence, which I recently reviewed. Rosa describes The Good Lord Willing and the Creek Don't Rise as "a wide-ranging, fascinating ramble of a tale," and Michael as a "bumpy coming-of-age tale," and "a narrative style that is both graceful and seamless."

The Good Lord Willing and the Creek Don't Rise is a loving tribute to the author's mother, and he convinces the reader that she was an amazing and wonderful woman. After sincerely trying to read it, my impression is that an editor in a conventional publishing house would have trimmed the story down to about 150 pages. The book is far too "wide-ranging," and the narrative style is much too bloated with meaningless details. Asked if he had the time, I suggest Mr. Norris would tell you how to build an eight-day clock. I opened the book expecting to read every word, and in no time, I was drowning in an ocean of unnecessary bloat. I found that reading this book was a chore, and I began to search for meaningful parts. Obviously, Tin Gate Books did not edit this "fascinating ramble."

In chapter five, the author recalls "an early morning in the redwoods, fishing with Dad in the creek that flows near our property line. The sun is not yet over the ridge of high trees. The sound of the creek is enchanting. The chirping of robins and sparrows filters through the air and is swallowed by the forest. I feel a tug on my line and jerk my pole carefully. Dad is by my side, coaching me patiently and lauding my performance with a gentle word. This singular image elicits the consummate joy that is my childhood. In this childhood, there is nothing more mysterious, wonderful, and ominous than the forest. Our entire family life is surrounded, infused, and dominated by the existence of the forest."

I didn't find the narrative style "graceful and seamless." I found it thick and sticky as quicksand. Contemplating 469 pages wading through the author's literary quagmire, I put the book aside. Once in a while, I surrendered to my curiosity and read another portion, searching for the really important passages, especially the author's refusal to obey the Air Force's orders to report for assignment to Vietnam and the resulting (six months) prison sentence. True to form, he wraps his story in so many unnecessary words that the importance of the story is obscured.

I regret that I cannot be positive about The Good Lord Willing and the Creek Don't Rise. Mr. Norris has lived a turbulent life, and the story's focus is his appreciation of his mother, who has loved and supported him through every bit of it, good or bad. It is a nice story that way, but I never found the purpose of using the word pentimento to describe the book. Mr. Norris's vocabulary is excellent, but his writing style is too complex for me. It's too bad Tin Gate Books doesn't have an editor.

John Ketwig is a lifetime member of VVAW and the author of two critically acclaimed books about Vietnam, ?and a hard rain fell and Vietnam Reconsidered: The War, the Times, and Why They Matter.