Regardless of subject matter, a novel is always about something else, and Dry Land by B. Pladek is no exception. The novel is billed as a book about a conservationist from Wisconsin with a remarkable—yes, magical—gift. A simple touch from the main character (Rand Brandt) to a plant or seedling and it grows! Imagine what this idealistic conservationist envisions he can do with this power: restore the landscape that has been destroyed by “progress” and by “need,” especially as the vast forests he loves have been decimated by lumbering.
The book is a study of the negligence of humanity, about our inability to treat our environment as if we are here for the long haul. And because this book takes place in a WWI setting, it’s a reminder that over 100 years ago we were also devastating our land—and before that, and before that. It’s a book about immediacy, and greed, and disregard.
But beyond this, the novel is about secrets, about what having them and keeping them does to us. Not surprisingly, the magical gift of the main character is double-edged. He can grow flowers and shrubs and trees, but the outcome is negative and twofold: the plants quickly wither and die, while Rand himself suffers physically from the output of his powers, sometimes fainting, at worst falling into a coma. The hopes and ideals of the young man who thought he could “save conservation” begin to wither and die, just like the nature he hoped to restore.
The secrets the main character carries aren’t just about his magical gifts, though; he and his lover Gabriel are in forest service together and eventually drafted together into the army. Both the time period and these settings mandate that they keep their relationship under wraps, even as they share housing and daily tasks, and also their love of music and, of course, their love for the land.
Rand’s best friend from college—a former “love interest” before she helped him understand himself—is Jonna, an aspiring writer, who travels to Europe to report on Rand and his “contribution” and service to the Allies (growing timber for the war effort). Jonna falls for Marie, a doctor for the wounded soldiers, and despite the risks, Rand, Gabriel, Jonna, and Marie find a place and a way to live authentically—at least for awhile.
While Rand struggles to keep his secrets as best he can (mostly for the sake of others, his lover, his family, and ultimately for nature itself when he feels his gift is being misused), he also carries the burden of a teenage failure that seems to haunt him. As a young man, his first, and perhaps naïve, passion for conservation led him to petition to save Clearwater Marsh; he was unsuccessful. This continued sense of failure bleeds into the realization of his gift and gives him a drive for redemption—a theme that carries into the personal relationships in the book, too. Rand himself feels unworthy, unlovable, and the journey for redemption that he is on surpasses his devotion to conservation and his desire to restore what has been stripped from nature. He also needs to restore his belief in family and friendship, in love, and ultimately, in himself.
Dry Land does not require prior knowledge of woods and prairies, of plants and trees and wilderness—although readers who have this familiarity will appreciate the author’s detailed descriptions, which reveal a deep passion for conservation similar to that of the characters.
The author also seamlessly reminds the reader how timely the struggles of the characters are. Despite our century-long distance from the novel’s 1917 setting, that setting feels remarkably familiar: there is still homophobia and private shame, violence against who and what is misunderstood, the quest for the opportunity to openly be who we are and love who and what we love. Finally, perhaps as the necessary foundation of the story, Dry Land deftly explores the human inability to love, to preserve, and to conserve the very environment that sustains us.
