Paul Harding roared onto the literary scene in 2010 by winning the Pulitzer for his first novel, Tinkers—a beautiful work of art marked by its rhythmic prose reflective of his musical background. Harding’s third novel, This Other Eden, certainly maintains his reputation for lyrical, complex writing that forces you past the surface plot into deeper meanings.

The book is based on the story of Malaga, an island off the coast of Maine that was once home to an impoverished mixed-race community that was evicted by the state in 1912, based on the immoral theory of eugenics. Harding recasts the story as a fictional Apple Island, focusing on the descendants of former slave Benjamin Honey and his Irish wife Patience, and four other island groups

It tears at the heart, this story of misfits who have peopled the island for more than 100 years, surviving a major hurricane that destroyed trees and life-giving vegetation; that shrunk in population to form families of unfortunate lineage—some inbred by limited choice. The poverty is particularly evident during the winter when food supplies run out before spring fishing can resume.

It is religious and racial bigotry that eventually drives the people from their home—and it is the religious theme that Harding uses to reveal the hypocrisy of the critics. He tags Apple Island as “This Other Eden,” and notes that the descendants of the biblical Eden had some similarities.

As the origin story goes, Adam and Eve were the only inhabitants of Eden and they begat children, but future generations would have all been from one seed—inbred by need. Harding also refers to Noah’s voyage with his wife, their three sons and wives following the destruction of all other people. Those future generations would have been inbred as well and there was also the issue of skin tone for the sons (“one black,” “one coppery,” “one fair”).

Harding’s story begins with the origins of Apple Island, the begetting; it has a hurricane and flood that destroys everyone in its path except for a choice few. The comparison could not be more stark: for the religious decision-makers in Maine in 1912, the inbreeding and skin tones of the Bible inhabitants were acceptable, or at least ignored; the inbreeding and mixed-races of Apple Island were not.

For me, much of this novel is deeply saddening in ways that Harding’s beautiful writing cannot compensate. But there was also a vein of hope and humanity that I searched for and found.

The people of Apple Island may have been poor and uneducated and even slovenly, based on their circumstances, but each family unit was loving. Neighbors supported each other and were tolerant of the idiosyncrasies of the others. There was no cruel judgment, no prejudice, no retribution, aggression, domination. There is a beauty in this, and a lesson. One the people of Maine needed to learn back in 1912. One the people of all states, and all countries need to learn in 2023.

Jonnie Martin

POST SCRIPT: Please scroll down to add your thoughts about this author or novel. I so would love to hear from you. There’s also a convenient slot to add your email for automatic delivery of new posts. Next Saturday’s blog is a profile of some very special poems by 5th graders and the enormous talent of the teacher who inspires them.