A review of Caleb’s Crossing by Geraldine Brooks

Australian author Kate Grenville faced controversy from historians and conservatives and some members of Aboriginal communities with her book about a little known Aboriginal massacre on the Hawkesbury: The Secret River. Fiction that relates an historical event can reignite passions.

Geraldine Brooks, also Australian, has courageously taken on a similar theme in her latest offering: Caleb’s Crossing, but in a US setting. It tells the story of the first Native Indian to graduate from Harvard College: Caleb Cheeshahteamauk.

Brooks won a Pulitzer Prize for her novel March, and is known for her rigorous research. This book is no exception, and involved sharing information and drafts with members of the Wampanoag tribe from which Caleb emerged to “cross” cultures.

However, any detail other than bare facts is total fabrication, as Brooks herself admits. There is very little information available about Caleb, even from students who were his contemporaries.

To overcome this, Brooks uses the device of a totally fictional character, Bethia Mayfield, who interacts with Caleb, first when they are both pre-teens, and he is ensconced in his native Indian culture, then later when Caleb as an orphan is tutored by her father.

The Mayfields are based on an actual family: the Mayhews, who purchased the English patent to the island now know as Martha’s Vineyard, off the East Coast of America between Boston and New York. Thomas Mayhew (imaginary Bethia’s father) was a minister who saw his life’s work as converting the Native Americans to Christianity. His son and grandson continued his work.

Hence Brook’s creation, Bethia, represents a conservative missionary family perspective in her interactions with Caleb. This is something very interesting in a popular book. Brooks has done her research on theological perspectives of the time carefully, relying on John Cotton Jr’s account of his conversations with native islanders in his 1660’s missionary journals, as well comments on the margins in religious texts and bibles written in the native language, in the 17th and 18th centuries.

While there is an authenticity in the portrayal of this tension between two different spiritualities, what is lacking from Bethia’s faith, and consequently some of her choices, is a sense of a personal faith. Most of her decisions seem to be based on ritual, or fear of judgment, rather than on a desire to please God, or a sense of grace.

What strikes home is the way that Christian missionary work was inseparable from a desire to “civilise” at this time; and the how general attitudes to the native populations were often characterised by racism, a sense of superiority by white people, even toward Native Indian converts.

It may appear from this description that this is a dry book, but it is far from that. Geraldine captures beautifully a rare relationship in literature: a powerful friendship. Bethia recognises Caleb as a brother, who can challenge and shape her attitudes and faith. He, likewise, has an honourable response to her, seeking to guard and guide her.

In many ways, they share an awareness of the limitations of the chances of birth and place in society. Bethia as a woman is denied opportunity for education or free choice in most of life’s major decisions. Her way is determined for her by the men of her family. Caleb also is somewhat of a pawn of other people’s hopes.

The characterisation is rich, the conversation feels real, the plot is enticing, and this is one of those books that has the potential to capture the reader’s heart and mind.

Further, it is a reminder that most of the universities of the world were originally formed as theological colleges. Caleb was sent to Harvard and trained in liberal arts and theological studies, including Greek and Hebrew, to prepare him for ordained ministry. Astonishingly, he achieved all this with all lectures conducted in Latin! The venture was funded by the English “Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in New England”. Harvard in fact relied upon the monies of these missionary organisations to survive in the early years.

It is welcome to see some of this history captured in narrative form. Brooks seems fair in her descriptions of the religious views of the time. Nevertheless, some of the squabbles over baptism, and the requirements of new converts made me wince. Bethia’s embracing of some aspects of Native American spirituality may be more postmodern yearning than historically accurate, but points to some of the challenges we face in a multi-faith society.

This book would be a great gospel-centred conversation starter for book groups, or as a gift for family or friends.