My favorite books are on the top shelf of the blue bookshelf in my bedroom. There’s a copy of Salinger’s Nine Stories, and Anaya’s Bless Me Ultima. I have Ellen Gilchrist’s Things Like the Truth and Anne Lamott’s Traveling Mercies (along with all of their other books) and Donald Miller’s Blue Like Jazz. I have the copy of Doug Preston’s Cities of Gold that I read when I was in chemo, as well as Pam Houston’s Cowboys are My Weakness and of course, Annie Proulx’s Shipping News and The Legacy of Conquest by Patty Limerick. I have La Farge’s Turn Left At the Sleeping Dog , which is the sweetest collection of oral histories of Santa Fe every compiled.
All good books and all amazing authors. On other shelves, I have most of what they’ve all written along with hundreds others. We have many books in our house. My literary tastes are pretty simple. Some of the books I read in high school (Salinger) and some of them I read a few years ago.
But my favorite, the book I give as a gift over and over, the book I read at least once a year just because I can, because it makes me laugh, and reminds me how New Mexico felt to me as a kid, is Richard Bradford’s Red Sky at Morning. My copy is dated 1968, which was the year it was published. It’s probably the copy my mom bought for us to have at home, and it was most likely read by my parents and three siblings before me. We always had books lying around at home when I was a child. We frequently tried to bring a book to the supper table, although it was equivalent to today’s kids bringing phones. We were supposed to interact. Leaving our books behind was so hard. Perhaps that’s why I can’t wait to sit down with a cup of coffee and a book every afternoon now that I have more time to read and take a break. It feels like such a sneaky pleasure.
My Red Sky at Morning is dog-eared and the pages are yellowed and there are more than a few water spots from where I’ve read it in the tub. I’ve probably read it twenty times.
For those of you who grew up in New Mexico, this post probably seems almost cliché. Yes, everyone knows Red Sky At Morning, yes everyone’s read it at least once, for a high school English class or a Southwestern Literature class. If you’re from Santa Fe and over fifty, you’ve heard stories about how the characters are based on folks your parents knew, that the sculptor lived on Canyon Road and the Arnolds lived on Palace Avenue. It’s a very local book according to my husband who was a child in Santa Fe in the 50’s.
But for those of you who have somehow, amazingly, missed it, Bradford’s book is all about New Mexico and by extension, the U.S., during World War II. It’s set in 1944, and Josh Arnold, funny, self-deprecating Josh and his very southern belle mother from Alabama are moved to the fictional Northern New Mexico town of Corazon Sagrado by the hilarious and lovably well-meaning Mr. Arnold, who is headed off to the Navy to sink the Germans. He might as well have moved them to the moon. Northern New Mexico is as far from familiar to southerners as a planet in another galaxy, and Bradford does a great job of telling the story of Josh and his mother stumbling through their months in Corazon. Josh thrives, and his mother, because of her unwillingness to bend, doesn’t thrive so much. Not so much at all.
I’m pretty sure you can get online and read hundreds of great reviews of the book. When it was published, the Washington Post called it a “true delight.” Harper Lee, the author of To Kill a Mockingbird said it was a work of art and the New York Times Book Review said it was a “novel of consequence”. Josh’s immersion in Corazon culture is entertaining and enlightening and Bradford’s tale of life among native New Mexicans is on target for the times in which he wrote. There are friendships and frustrations and fiestas and snowstorms and Penitentes and attempted fist fights with Pachucos.
I’ve always wanted to hang out with Josh and his friends, Steenie and Marcia. I want to play gallina at the city dump with them. I want to eat burritos on the plaza and sit through embarrassing high school assemblies. I want to spend Christmas with the Montoyas.
But you know, I’ve actually had all those experiences, in very slightly different forms. I am a New Mexican. The reason I so love this book, other than the storyline that eventually breaks your heart and mends it at the same time, is because it is so recognizable to me. I know all those New Mexicans that change Josh’s life in so many ways.
In 1971, Red Sky at Morning went to Hollywood and became a movie, with Josh played by Richard Thomas, who went on to become a star as John Boy on The Waltons. I’ve never seen it. The book’s characters live in my head already – I hate to give them new faces, especially since the reviews for the movie never were very positive.
If you don’t have it, buy it. If you’re my friend or a family member, chances are you have or will receive it as a Christmas gift. If you read it twenty years ago, pick it up and read it again. It will make you smile. And cry. You may even put it on your top shelf.
Note: This book was written long ago. The depictions might strike some young readers as imperfect, racist, or condescending. But it’s always good to learn how prior generations saw themselves and the world they lived in. I hope you have the heart to learn from folks who went before you, especially when you take the time to view their imperfections with an open mind.