First Light by Charles Baxter 1987
‘First Light’ was Charles Baxter’s first novel, the beginning of a distinguished writing career for this Midwestern author who continues to be largely unknown to today’s reading public. Blurbed by the likes of Paul Auster and Tim O’Brien, the book received a brief review in a weekday New York Times edition and was largely forgotten. Having enjoyed his short stories and his book about writing, I thought I’d give this one a try and pleased that I did.
It’s an unusual novel. In the first chapter we meet all of the main characters. Hugh appears to be a solid family man living in Five Oaks, Michigan who sells cars at a Buick dealer where he began to work when he flunked out of college. His wife Laurie, two daughters, and he live in the house where he grew up. His sister, Dorsey, an astrophysicist of some repute, her actor husband Simon and their deaf son Noah are visiting from California for July 4th. There is tension as the family prepares for the holiday. So far, nothing special though I was immediately struck by the vivid quality of Baxter’s writing.
Having met the cast of characters in the first chapter, we then travel back in time with each chapter taking us further into the past until we are present at Dorsey’s birth in the final chapter. It’s an unusual structure, but it works once one gets used to the direction that time is flowing. It also works because we come to know and care about these characters and because the writing is excellent. Here’s the first sentence: “On the Fourth of July, Hugh agreed to drive out to Mrs. LaMonte’s house to get ‘the explosives,” as he likes to call them.” It’s all there—the time, the setting, the primary character, and the ambiguous reference to explosives. Is Hugh a terrorist about to blow up the town, a scientist working on nuclear fission and the Big Bang, and if so, who are (is?) his co-conspirators who urged him to get the explosives? All of these possibilities are part of the novel, one in which nuclear Armageddon looms over all as it did in the late 20th C.
Baxter is a fine stylist. Thirty five years after this book was published and having written six more novels, six short story collections (and won the PEN/Malamud Award in 2021 for Excellence in the Short Story), several collections of non-fiction, and three volumes of poetry, he remains close to his Midwestern roots living in Ann Arbor where he led the Creative Writing Program for many years. His fiction like his life is solid, steady, and satisfying. In many ways, it reminded me of one of my favorite authors, also from the Midwest, William Maxwell. I particularly liked the epigram he chose to introduce the book: Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forwards: Kierkegaard. If you don’t know Baxter (and most readers don’t), give this book a try.
