Good people looking after one another; the Dutch were better than their theology
Westerhof—now there’s a Dutch name, like all the names in Catch Me as I Fall. There’s the Van crew, of course, like Van Dyk. There’s an abundance of Frisians, the Northerners, names with vowels and often ending in the letter a: Boersma, Dykstra, Veenstra, Zylstra. I am a Miedema and grew up with people just like them. There are many immigrant stories in Canadian literature, but few Dutch ones. Dutch immigrants were a quiet, practical lot, quick to assimilate. Westerhof’s collection of eleven loosely related short stories is a rare treat.
The immigrant story is not a new one, but the Dutch perspective is unique. The church was the core of this community. Religion was heavy-handed, and the book’s title was well chosen. The fall of man is central to Dutch theology. Of course, there was doubt. In the story Unfailing Mercies, Sarah stands in front of the church for the ritual Profession of Faith. She ponders how casually she had drifted into the faith, agreeing to believe. When Reverend Post asks her to commit her life to Christ, she feels an urge to laugh, then panics. Personally, I declined to undertake the ritual. It was my point of departure from the church. Still, I remember that they were generally good people looking after one another; the Dutch were better than their theology. I still love to sing the old hymns.
The stories touch on all the memorable points—the difficult ones and the happy ones. There was the Dutch school, with all those young blond heads and blue eyes. In Canada, it is not uncommon to hear about discrimination against immigrants, but the Dutch were bearers of prejudice against Catholics, Blacks, gays—you name it. To be fair, during the war, many Dutch people risked their lives to hide Jews from the Nazis who occupied their country. On a happier note, I was reminded of our good farm foods: meat and potatoes and green beans, soup with Maggi, boterkoek, and apple pie with ice cream. My diet has diversified since those days, but I have fond memories.
Westerhof’s stories are often sentimental, and this works because the Dutch are sentimental. That, and stubborn. Wooden-shoed and wooden-headed. In the story Probability, Ellie is never as confident as her aptly named friend, Will. Maybe the certain answers of his faith made him feel there should be certain answers for everything. Westerhof nails it there. Belief in a grand design has a way of programming a person to see the world in a structured way. Now Will is dead. What will she write for a eulogy? Well, Westerhof’s book is a eulogy of sorts—a testament to a past time that still echoes with love in me. Thank you, Patricia.
Published on February 15, 2013
Updated on November 16, 2024