Book #45: In the Company of Angels (Whitney Book 25)

Title: In the Company of Angels
Author: David Farland

Like many Mormons with pioneer heritage, my husband's parents love to tell the stories of their illustrious ancestors: the grandfather who lived with two wives in Salt Lake City into the 1950s, the uncle who should have won a Nobel Prize, the many-times great-grandfather whose hymns figure prominently in our hymnbook, the brothers (named Mormon and Moroni) who helped settle the town where my in-laws now live, the other many times-great-grandfather who used to have a church college named after him, the aunt who was married to a prophet. One of the most touching stories is of the grandma and grandpa who traveled to Utah with the Martin Handcart Company. After pulling their baby thousands of miles, she died shortly before the family reached Salt Lake City. Unwilling to leave her behind, exposed, on the frozen ground, they wrapped up her body, hid it in the handcart, and she's now buried in the Salt Lake City cemetery. I may be a convert, but after 20+ years of experience in the church, I know that in our cultural history the word handcart is synonymous with hardship. 


In the Company of Angels documents the experience the approximately 400 members of the Willie Handcart Company had crossing the plains in the summer and fall of 1856 (they were traveling the same route as the Martin Handcart Company, but had a head start of about ten days). It was a hard journey, so understandably, this is a hard story to read, a story filled with pain, blood, disease, tears, sweat, snakes, treachery, death and lots and lots of ice and snow. Emily M (my partner in reading the Whitney books for Segullah) reviewed the book already for the Segullah blog, and I agree with what she's written. I finished the book last night, and I can't get the characters and the situation out of my mind. I think part of it is because Farland does a darn good job with his characters, but also because the story is part of our cultural history, and part of my (through marriage at least) family history. It's people willing to follow leaders despite those leaders' weaknesses, people willing to cross an ocean and then pull their belongings across a continent, people willing to pray when it seemed like all hope was lost, people willing to pack up their dead baby daughter so she could be laid to rest in Zion, these are the people whose blood is running through my children, and who represent some of the enduring traits of strength and faith and hard work that we value as a culture today.

I think anyone who lays claim to this cultural heritage and who values the freedoms and benefits we have as a people today wonders how they would have stood the test of traveling with a handcart company. Farland allows readers to experience the journey through the eyes of Baline, a young Danish immigrant, Captain Willie, the missionary chosen to lead the group, and Eliza Gadd, a non-Mormon Englishwoman traveling with her family of converts. They all experience heartache and loss and are all transformed by the experience. I appreciate that Farland didn't excuse Franklin Richards (who made the ultimate call to send the Saints out late in the season and ill-equipped and chose not to pitch in and help when he could have made a big difference in the journey's outcome), and also showed the inner struggles of Willie, who bore the day to day burden of carrying the company.

It's interesting reading a historical novel when you already know the history. As the Saint set out with hope in their hearts and smiles on their faces, I knew, as a reader, that disease and despair and death waited for them down the trail. So did Farland, but he didn't change the story. When I read books like this, I often imagine that it's somewhat similar to the experience Heavenly Father might have in relation to us. He knows us, he loves us, he helps us when we ask for it, but knowing what will happen to us based on the choices that we make doesn't mean that he'll step in and make sure those hard things don't happen.