Basso Profundo: institutionalization

In this 1979 novel, Scott Spencer brazenly presents the first-person chronicle of a tortured-in-love, obsessive young man. In portraying these adventures and misadventures, Mr. Spencer sets the bar improbably high for the type of destructive-behavior fiction he engages in – he proves the remarkable “Endless Love” is no fluke in “A Ship Made of Paper” (2003).

High-school senior David Axelrod loves Jade Butterfield literally to distraction. His passion – their passion – consumes them so completely that when Jade’s father Hugh decides David must not see anyone in the family for 30 days, he sets fire to the family’s home, with the idea that they will at least have to leave the house and be unable to avoid talking to David. This conflagration serves as the perfect metaphor for David’s passion: its speed and heat endanger the entire Butterfield family. It turns out that Jade’s mother Ann is aware of the extreme ardency between the two, and it excites her own nature to more passion than she’d ever known. The family generally knows about the two, however, and accept David, essentially adopting him into their family – for a time, at least.

David’s arson happens on an evening when the entire family, down to the barely-teenaged son Sammy, has dropped LSD for a family trip, and David must work at a Herculean level to rescue them. As punishment David is sent to a rather relaxed, permissive mental institution, where his only concerted effort is to deceive his psychiatrist into thinking he is changing, losing his obsession for Jade. Eventually David worms his way back into the family and resumes his life with Jade, only now he must hide a ghastly secret to do so. The reunion of David and Jade shows them at their passionate and destructive height.

The love-addled David addles the Butterfield family and while breaking parole, indirectly causes an accident that splinters it entirely. The passion the two young people have lights the entire narrative ablaze – and at the end David still, against all reason, keeps his passion for his long-gone lover. Scott Spencer succeeds brilliantly with this difficult task. In this timeless story of dangerous passion, David comes across as unquestioningly focused, blindly self-absorbed, and lucid in his madness. Mr. Spencer has a stunning gift for this theme, and retains an ardent admirer in this reviewer. Be prepared to be completely absorbed when you pick this up.

An odd little book, "Indiana, Indiana" is the obliquely-told story of Noah, a very simple man who had a relationship with Opal, and has visions as a psychic. Opal is unstable herself - she set fire to her house, and then refused to leave it. Folks try to take advantage of Noah because of his simple nature and his unique abilities. All Noah wants is to see Opal again, but she's been committed to the care of the state. This is ultimately the story of an unusual man at odds with authority. That authority might be in the person of his father Virgil, or the sheriff, who wants insights about missing people or a crime scene, or the mental health authorities.

This narrative is told in an inexact tone, a dreamlike tone ... conversation is never in quotation mark, and the chronology jumps around startlingly. We finally discern that we have met Noah in old age, but then we jump back again to childhood, to courting years, then back to Noah's dotage. It's very effective in rendering the dreamlike consciousness of Noah - this is the book's greatest achievement, along with the clear implication of society's clumsiness and (perhaps) injustice when dealing with those with special needs.

This is an unusual and challenging book. It shows its author to be a highly skilled and wise practitioner. If you want to charge into an odd, quirky story, which nevertheless has clear lessons, pick this one up.