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Tributary, by Barbara K. Richardson
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*2013 Utah Book Award in Fiction*
*15 Bytes Book Award for Fiction--2013* With "lyrical prose and heartfelt characters" (Publishers Weekly), this historical novel tracks the life of one resolute young woman who dares resist communal salvation in order to find her own. Clair Martin's dauntless search for self leads her from devout, frontier Utah to the chaos of Reconstruction Dixie and then back West, where she learns how to take her place, at last, in the land she loves.Barbara K. Richardson's debut novel Guest House was an Eric Hoffer Award fiction finalist. She lives and writes in Boulder, Colorado.
"A quest to belong is the theme of this novel from Richardson, whose lyrical prose and heartfelt characters shine through. This novel has much to offer, including a balanced perspective on a controversial time in Mormon history, but its greatest gift is its wisdom about finding one's own path."--Publishers Weekly
"You'll love resolute Clair Martin, the equal of any man--or religion. Clair's strength and survival are the heritage of western women."--Sandra Dallas, author of True Sisters.
"Tributary is a remarkable odyssey of the American West, told in one of the most clear-sighted, unjudging, and original voices I've come across in years."--Molly Gloss, author of The Jump-Off Creek and The Hearts of Horses
"Richardson, whose Mormon ancestors settled in the northern Salt Lake Valley, offers a complete portrait of life in the American West by exploring the struggles of a woman living outside the centers of power. Engaging and beautifully written, Tributary is a welcome addition to the current conversation."--5280 Magazine
"Tributary is a novel whose characters and time are so well inhabited, whose landscapes are so lovingly evoked, we wonder if Richardson is not speaking to us directly from the late 19th century, from a high bench above the Great Salt Lake. The language and writing are surefooted and fresh and often startling the way the best poetry can be startling. Richardson is a new American voice worth listening to."--Peter Heller, author of The Dog Stars and Kook
"Seldom does a novel come along that is as beautifully written and emotionally honest as Tributary. Barbara K. Richardson captures the grandeur and harshness of the Old West in a young woman's struggle to find a home and a family without losing herself. A lyrical and haunting story not to be missed."--Margaret Coel, Author of Buffalo Bill's Dead Now
"From polygamist Mormon desert settlements to the yellow fever-plagued Gulf to an Idaho sheep ranch, Richardson evokes the 19th Century West and the human heart in all their complexity."--Barbara Wright, author of the Spur Award-winning novel Plain Language
"This is a gorgeous novel. This book does what art should do, which is to show us our lives with renewed clarity and better insight. Tributary takes the incomplete history and mythos of the West to task, and instead shows us some of the far more interesting and unexplored stories of the American West--Mormonism, racism, women who don't need marriage or men. Beautifully written and engaging, this is a story of one woman and her refusal to cave into societal norms in order to seek her own difficult and inspired path."--Laura Pritchett, author of Sky Bridge
"I've been hungering for a book like this since I finished Lonesome Dove--a tale of the Old West big enough to crawl into completely, full of magnetic characters, unspeakable dangers, and beautiful language."--Lisa Jones, author of Broken: A Love Story
- Sales Rank: #1178476 in eBooks
- Published on: 2012-09-11
- Released on: 2012-09-11
- Format: Kindle eBook
Review
"Richardson is a new American voice worth listening to." --Peter Heller, author of The Dog Stars
"A lyrical and haunting story not to be missed." --Margaret Coel, author of Buffalo Bill's Dead Now
"I've been hungering for a book like this since I finished Lonesome Dove." --Lisa Jones, author of Broken: A Love Story
"Tributary is a remarkable odyssey of the American West, told in one of the most clear-sighted, unjudging, and original voices I've come across in years." —Molly Gloss, author of The Jump-Off Creek and The Hearts of Horses
"You'll love resolute Clair Martin, the equal of any man--or religion. Clair's strength and survival are the heritage of western women." --Sandra Dallas, author of True Sisters
"Tributary takes the incomplete history and mythos of the West to task, and instead shows us some of the far more interesting and unexplored stories of American West--Mormonism, racism, women who don't need marriage or men . . . Beautifully written and engaging." --Laura Pritchett, author of Sky Bridge
"From polygamist Mormon desert settlements to the yellow fever-plagued Gulf to an Idaho sheep ranch, Richardson evokes the 19th Century West and the human heart in all their complexity." --Barbara Wright, author of Plain Language
"Just when Tributary seemed like a story rich enough for an entire novel--an account of a feisty young Mormon woman in the 1860s--it turned into a story set in the South, and then another in the West. In the end, Barbara Richardson's deceptively simple book is nothing less than an epic." --Jesse Kornbluth, HeadButler.com
About the Author
Barbara Richardson's novel Tributary follows the lives of a ragtag group of misfits who settle the Salt Lake Valley. It won the Utah Book Award in 2013. Richardson earned an MFA in poetry from Eastern Washington University.
Aside from writing, Barbara has renovated eight houses, danced Argentine tango, and planted thousands of trees and shrubs for others. Barbara is also an avid environmentalist. She now writes and edits in Utah's Wasatch Back.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Excerpt from Tributary: Finding Home
On the day I moved from Lars’ stable at the Barrens up into Ada’s cabin on the Bench, I gauged my happiness by this sight: dusted with snow, the Wasatch Mountains seemed to cup the valley like a bread-maker’s palms. I would live on the fleshy pad of their thumb.
I moved my few possessions in and stood a long while in silence. I set the books Ada had loaned me in the window sill. Then I scrubbed the river rock walls until they gleamed. I would press flowers at the window right of the door, place one crate there. Hang clothes on a cord strung in the back corner. Firewood to the left of the hearth, washtub and kitchen supplies to the right. I hoped to find a large table to place in the center of the room. I had no bed and the door needed mending. Leather strips would do for hinges.
That night, I watched the lamps on Main get lit, one and two. The copper-faced creek angled north, toward Ada’s windows, which were bright. And a hymn came, with words that filled my breast:
Oh, Zion! dear Zion! land of the free,
Now my own mountain home, unto thee I have come—
All my fond hopes are centered in thee.
My move across town released me from Bishop Olsen’s so-called care. I now resided within the confines of the Second Ward, and under the eye of a new Bishop. Daniel Dees was tall and strappy, and he presided over the Sunday meetings with mannish ease. I believed I might enjoy this change, until he took me aside that first Sunday and told me my new calling—to sew holy garments for a living, the sacred long johns worn by couples after they’d married in the Endowment House. I objected, panting inwardly Me in close quarters with the holy underwear? But he silenced my concerns with a generous smile, saying married Sisters would attach the holy symbols, marking breast and knee. As if that made it better. As if that made it right.
His smile lingered in my mind for days. What would it mean to move through life with such assurance? How would it feel to know something, anything at all, beyond a shadow of a doubt? I asked myself, until the questions became riddles I knew I’d never solve.
Bishop Dees also called for a house-making, that first Sunday. He asked the Ward members to open their bounty to the newest householder, to share whatever they could. All week long, items arrived at the top of the hill. A tin tub and bent ladle, hempen bed cord, tatted couch covers, crockery, three and a half bars of Sister Karen’s oatmeal soap, a bread can, yeast starter, an axe, flour, molasses, an old Dutch oven with two legs, one kerosene lamp and a flax broom.
Homer Tingey hiked up late that first week. He greeted me with a smile so large, his jaw begged rest.
I said, “Brother Tingey, I do not need another thing. I am beyond thankfulness.”
Homer blushed.
“Bishop said, ‘Guard and deliver.’” He called down to the boys in his wagon. They shoved a tarp back, and my heart leapt in recognition.
Brother Larsen’s cast iron tub.
It was the only claw foot tub in Brigham. Lars had ordered it by mail. Some said he’d ordered it for Sister Larsen just before she died. A quiet Brother, but his heart was true. He may have meant it for his ailing wife but Lars didn’t blink an eye, changing its purpose. That tub, brimming with water, lay to the belly in muck outside his own black geldings’ stall—the best horse trough in Zion.
Four boys muscled the claw-foot tub to the top of the hill. I knocked snow and dried manure off its sides while Homer’s boys and two of Bishop Olsen’s sons threw off their coats. They tipped the tub and squirmed in the doorway. Four steps, they turned it right and touched it down.
“Don’t take your ease, boys,” Homer said, stepping in. “Sister Martin may not want the tub set there.”
Inger Olsen ran his hands along his sleeves, grimacing. “We ain’t slaves,” he said, “and she sure ain’t no queen.”
But when I looked in—the long white tub aligned with the door, a dumpling set square center of the room—I thanked them, Homer and his sons and the Bishop’s boys. “It’s where I’d have it. It is just right.”
I would find three planks to lay across it for my table, by day. By night, its purpose was clear. Never had I felt so safe or slept so sound, enclosed on all sides by cast iron.
Most helpful customer reviews
7 of 7 people found the following review helpful.
An Artistic Triumph
By Julene Bair
This book is an artistic triumph: incredibly confident, beautiful, and imaginative prose; warmly drawn, well-rounded characters; insight into a historical period, religion, and place that few non-Mormons are that familiar with; and an extremely plucky protagonist who resists religion and all dogmas. Clair will serve as a model of feminine strength for all who read it. I wish I had been more like Clair when I was young. I like to think I'm a little bit like her now. But after reading this book, I am encouraged to be even more self-possessed, outspokenly honest, and true to what my own experiences teach me.
4 of 4 people found the following review helpful.
Sweeping vistas and a sweeping vision
By Priscilla Stuckey
I loved this novel! Bold and tender, with a narrator whose voice is so unique you will remember and enjoy her long after you put down the book. How does a woman find authentic family, authentic community? Especially if that woman lives on the nineteenth-century American frontier in Mormon Utah? Based on the history of the author's own Mormon ancestors, the novel traces Clair Martin's long journey toward a happy life, a journey that many women today know is fraught with perils--communities that don't match the best in their members, loneliness in the midst of or outside of a family, relationships that take unexpected turns. The dialect and the language in the narrator's thinking are so spot-on, and so fresh and witty, that more than once a turn of phrase stopped me in my tracks and I had to sigh, "How does the author do that?" Sweeping vistas of wide-open western country, and a spacious vision to match.
3 of 3 people found the following review helpful.
a tribute to tributary
By susan imhoff bird
in reading tributary, by barbara richardson, I was engrossed immediately, and the fire kept its heat-sometimes a low golden flame, sometimes a hot flash and crackle-through to the very end, when, at the last sentence, I fell completely and deeply in love.
a similar thing has happened to me before. I'll read a book, I'll enjoy the read, even be eager to open to my bookmark each day, but not fall in love with it until after I've read the final page: these are the times a book's impact can't be known until it's all been absorbed.
but this was different; the last line of tributary made me emotionally swoon. now don't go cheating and pick up her book and read the last line: you have to earn your way there. not that the work is hard. tributary, clair martin's story, is told so perfectly, so intriguingly and with such heartfelt honesty, that the work of reading it is only that of keeping your body comfortable as your hands and eyes perform their tasks that allow your mind to play along with barbara's tale.
I'm a spiritual girl, always looking for meaning and bigger stories, larger pictures, connection and compassion. clair martin is as matter-of-fact and I'll-believe-it-when-I-see-it as they come. not only did barbara's story-telling make me admire and love clair martin, it eventually allowed for clair and I to see the world similarly and cause me to fall in love.
and that's what I want to say about reading tributary. you can go read any review you want, or go with sandra dallas' statement that "you'll love resolute Clair Martin, the equal of any man-or religion. Clair's strength and survival are the heritage of western women" to give you more of an idea about the book. I'm sticking with my words about reading the book, about its impact on me . . . it was entirely worth every minute I spent reading it, and every minute that last line comes back to tug at my soul.
in fact, it would be more accurate to say the read and its impact on me was-unexpectedly-priceless. tributary is one of those books I want to keep, always, on my bookshelf.
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