450. The Thresher, by Herbert Krause (read 15 Nov 1952) I began reading this book on Nov 13, 1952, when I said of it: "It is a story of German farmers in western Minnesota. At first it was bad and the writing seemed disjointed and strained in an attempt at a certain "style." But in my reading tonight, with Johnny Schwartz getting to where he works, the story and style hit its stride well, and I am enjoying it. I figure Johnny was born c. 1878, and his work with horse-driven and now self-driving steam engine threshing machines is interesting." I finished the book on Nov. 15, 1952 and then said: "This was a tremendous book, literally gripping me in its power, and I read it avidly to a finish tonight, not wanting to lay it down. So many things combined to make this book a memorable experience: the farmers that were its characters and very well-drawn, so true, I couldn't quarrel with the author's drawing of them, knowing as I do various farmers; the Germanness, the simple pace of the simple story, and the usually strong prose. This last was, tis true, reminiscent of other "farm" novels I have read, and is probably not "good" writing. Stuff like this: "And Time the great cylinder whirled, slow in its swiftness, swift in its slowness, ripping the seed from the hull, and the seed falling..." A very real tour de force, better even than Feike Feikema's This Is the Year (read by me 26 June 1948), even though there was no politics in it, and was not so sympathetic to the plight of the farmer in general. It bulks large in my reading--for here was not 'affected' or 'ought to' reading: this was reading that took hold of me. ( )

This is a more compelling novel than I had expected it to be. It is set in western Minnesota farm country between the late 1880s and about 1912. The story concerns a male, a third generation German American immigrant, from about the age of 10 to about 35. While the plot itself kept me turning the pages, this book makes important contributions beyond its storyline in three major areas:

First, the author reveals much about the mentality exhibited in German American farming communities a century ago. This is a way of life and of thought far-removed from the personal experience of most Americans of our time, in spite of how numerous these people were in the time in which the novel is set.

Second, the book is filled with the technological details of communial, mechanical threshing of grain and the sub-culture that grew up around that supremely important activity. It was communially and mechanically threshed Midwestern grain, especially wheat, that fed the ever-growing industrial cities of America, and to some extent of western Europe as well, a century ago. The book follows the changes in threshing as threshing machines (separators) were powered first by horses driven in a circle, then by huge steam engines on great iron wheels, and finally, by smaller, more efficient petroleum-powered tractors.

The book's third contribution, and perhaps its most important, is an exploration of the effect two types of Protestantism, and specifically German American Lutheranism, can have on sensitive as well as not-so-sensitive individuals. The first type of Protestantism, corresponding to the "dark Lutherans" the radio personality Garrison Keillor talks about today, emphasizes the wrath of God and his punishment of sin. The second emphasizes religion as forgiveness and as a source of comfort for the afflicted, that is, God's love for suffering humanity. Although Krause does not tell a "feel good" kind of story, his sympathies are clearly with the second type of Protestantism.

The author also gives us commentary about gender roles and how the success of a hard-working, even driven, yet loving young man can be endangered by the very qualities that caused his success and by the arrogance the success has brought about.

In short, a rich and rewarding book about a historically important Midwestern sub-culture almost entirely ignored by today's media. ( )