The Women of the Copper Country is a historical novel that sticks close to the historical record. It tells the story of Annie Clements (a.k.a. Clemenc), who rose to unlikely national prominence as an advocate for the copper miners in a 1913 strike in Calumet, a small town in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. A statuesque 6-footer, 25-year-old Clements was often photographed with a large American flag and was compared to Joan of Arc. To use a term from our time, her image went viral, and the strike became a cause supported by labor unions nationwide. In December, more than 70 people, mostly children, were crushed to death when someone yelled fire in a hall crowded with Union families. The event inspired a 1940 song, “1913 Mine Massacre,” by Woody Guthrie.
Author Mary Doria Russell focuses her story on the wives and daughters of the mining families, especially Annie, who is transformed from an awkward, self-conscious teen into a determined leader. Russell is at her best in providing telling domestic details that bring her women characters vividly present. She describes the baking of pasties, savory Cornish turnovers that were a staple in miners’ lunches. Here is Annie bringing food to the family of a man dying from an accident in the mines:
“Bread. Butter. Kolache for the children. Sausages and preserves that whisper, Something for the future. No pasties. Pasties were for the mines.”
This novel is bound to be a book club favorite. ( )

Oh, my! Before planning an upcoming trip to the Upper Peninsula, I was totally unaware that this was copper mining territory, and still had no clue about the Strike of 1913. This is well-written novel based on the strike and the role of women in that strike.

The beginning of the book was a little slow to draw this reader in, but once into the story, it was a captivating page-turner and I'm very glad I read it prior to our trip to that region. ( )

In June 1913, a man dies inside the Calumet and Hecla copper mine in Calumet, Michigan, the world’s largest. The fatality is neither remarkable nor surprising, for everyone in Calumet knows and dreads the sight of the dark-suited underling sent to inform the bereaved family — and, perhaps, repossess the house they rent from the company. Further, few people liked the dead man, stern and ill-tempered, even for a copper miner hardened by years of back-breaking, life-threatening toil for little more than pennies a day.

Nevertheless, this particular death fans the flame that has been smoldering within Annie Clements for years. What follows earns her the nickname “America’s Joan of Arc.” At first, the tale carries a whiff of Hollywood feel-good, because Annie’s efforts to unionize Calumet copper miners begin with great success and fanfare, even gain national attention. Meanwhile, James MacNaughton, the mine’s general manager, is so thoroughly despicable that even an opera librettist would hesitate to put a character like him on stage.

But consider the source. Russell hews closely to biographical facts in her historical fiction; her afterword argues that the historical record justifies MacNaughton’s portrayal. As for Annie Clements, her miracle working meets immovable obstacles soon enough. Despite sympathy from a progressive governor, a National Guard commander who distrusts hired strikebreakers, and even the White House—an alignment perhaps unique in the American labor firmament—MacNaughton will not be moved. He’s the definition of brutality and ruthlessness, and the company owns the town.

Russell begins every chapter with a brief quotation from Romeo and Juliet, which compares this struggle to that of Montague versus Capulet. But since nobody’s reading much Shakespeare in copper country, the device feels authorial and intrusive; and the quotations announce the mood and substance of what you’re about to read, which steals a march on the storytelling.

It also contributes to the sense of earnestness that mars the novel on occasion, visible partly in the exclamation points that pepper the pages. I agree wholeheartedly with Russell’s message, especially its resonance with today’s politics. Yet, for example, an early interior narrative from MacNaughton’s point of view feels cloying, historically accurate or not; let the man’s actions speak rather than his thoughts.

Still, there’s a lot to like about The Women of the Copper Country. Russell’s fans, of whom I’m one, shouldn’t expect the lyrical prose that drove Doc, and I’m glad she didn’t employ that style here. Annie’s trials are too hard-edged for that, and Calumet’s no place to indulge fancy. What you do get, though, is Russell’s trademark description, which can only come from a writer who knows a place or person from the inside.
Annie’s a strong person, a gifted organizer, good soul, utterly courageous and self-sacrificing, feminist without knowing the word. But she’s also a little too good to be true, I think. You can see this especially when Mother Jones, the famously profane, tireless labor advocate, makes an appearance and steals the scene; her edges contrast with Annie’s smoothness.

I also like Eva Savicki, a teenager who begins the novel besotted with a boy intent on ignoring her, only to come under Annie’s spell and grow into a committed, capable activist. That transition, one of Annie’s great accomplishments, echoes another theme, the belief that by helping one person, you help the whole world.

But what stays with me most from The Women of the Copper Country is the story. It may not seem memorable right way, because, unlike just about any novel you’ll ever read, in this one, things go well for our heroes at the start. But stay with it, for it’s hard to anticipate the manner in which so many setbacks take place, and how the characters struggle to overcome them or point out the injustice they suffer. Flawed though it is, The Women of the Copper Country makes a riveting tale that forces you to think about your own life. ( )

Historical fiction about a copper miners’ strike in Calumet, Michigan in 1913, led by Annie Klobuchar Clements (the anglicized form of Clemenc). Mining conditions at the time were deplorable. Men were dying regularly in the mines, and surviving families evicted from their company-owned homes. This book relates the story of the strike and a brave woman who stepped into a leadership role at a time when many women were not even entitled to vote.

This book is a narrative of multiple tragedies. It is well-written, and the primary characters are believable. The setting and times are vividly portrayed, especially the harshness of life for the workers and their families. Notable women of the labor movement make an appearance, such as Mother Jones, Ella Bloor, and Jane Addams. I enjoyed the first three-fourths of this book but felt it went off-target near the finish with a rather unsatisfying ending. It is based on real events and I was interested to read the author’s afterward where she provides information on what parts are based on facts. Overall, I thought it was worthwhile and I gained additional knowledge about the history of U.S. labor activism.

I received an advanced reader’s copy from the publisher via NetGalley in return for a candid review. This book is scheduled to be published on August 6, 2019. ( )

Do you think your life is difficult? The boss doesn’t really appreciate you or give you your due? Your under a glass ceiling? Not being paid what you are worth? There is laundry to do and dishes to wash and kids to bathe when you get home from work? It rained during your entire week’s paid vacation and you spent way too much time just having messages and eating in restaurants because it wasn’t the weather for doing what you had planned? Bugger.

If you answered yes to even one of those questions, you need to read this book. It is a reminder of what people went through getting us to a 5-day work week, an 8-hour day, and a pay rate that provides living conditions that are not wholly insufferable. It is a reminder that before women were all gainfully employed in the workplace, they were working like drudges to keep homes running and children fed and men able to earn the pay.

Mary Doria Russell is a modern day minstrel. She writes historical fiction with the emphasis on historical accuracy, but she does it with a flow and flare that is purely lyrical. Every character she creates, whether a fleshing out of a historical figure or an invention to illustrate a historical type, is as real as your closest neighbor. She navigates this world seamlessly, as if she had been there herself and known and felt what it was.

Besides giving us a perfect picture of the women of the Copper Country and the company man who lives in the mansion on the hill and neither understands, nor wishes to understand, anything of their lives, she explains in a way you cannot help relating to what it is like for the men and why they risk so much to change the rules of their lives for the betterment of their sons.

You get up, you dress, you eat, you walk to the change house. You clock in and climb down flight after flight of slippery cut-stone stairs before a hike through miles of tunnels--just to start the day’s work. It’s cold underground. It’s wet. It smells of rock. Beyond that dim little funnel of light from your headlamp, there’s a hellish nothing, and Christ, the noise! After a few weeks, you’re half-def from the pounding of the drills. So you listen hard all the time to the crunch and scrape of shoveling, the squeal of tram wheels grating on rusty rails, because a few seconds can make all the difference when a wall starts to come down.

Annie Clements is a person I will now never forget. If you enjoy reading about a strong woman who is nonetheless human, you will love her. It makes me sad that she has been buried in our history for so many years, unsung, and appreciative that Russell has unearthed her and shown the world her face once more. The events that occurred in Calumet, Michigan, so much more startling because they are events that real people experienced, will make you wonder at man’s inhumanity, at the courage of individuals, and at the ability of human beings to survive disaster and continue to draw breath. But they will also make you consider that we have made so much progress that we forget about, and that, while there are certainly still wrongs to right and justice to seek, a solid foundation has been laid for us with the blood of others.

My sincerest thanks to Mary Doria Russell and Atria books for giving me a copy of this book in return for an honest review.
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