A diversion

The Gold of Troy” is a collection of artifacts excavated from a site in Turkey thought to be the ancient city of Troy. In the latter half of the 19th century a German, Hienrich Schliemann, became gripped by Homer’s description of the city, believing he was reading a historical account rather than fiction. Using crude techniques and a small fortune he burrowed into an Anatolia hillside, digging up ruins from what would turn out to be several ancient cities buried on this location. Among the finds was a series of gold artifacts he rashly claimed to belong to Priam, king of Troy. The loot became known as Priam’s treasure. In recent years Schliemann’s methods have been scorned and his interpretation of the history he unearthed from that Turkish hillside have been discredited, but the gold remains real. And for many growing up in the 20th century, Schliemann was the inspiration for those who dreamed of finding treasure.

Robert Cluett titled his inquiry into his family’s mythology The Gold of Troy in part because the primal ancestor, Billie Cluett, settled near Troy, New York. But it surely wasn’t lost on this retired English professor that he was conjuring a rich romantic adventure rather than an academically pure historical document. He, like Schliemann, was seeking lost treasure—and in The Gold of Troy he found it.

Cluett has crafted a wonderful, accessible and remarkably universal story. His tale begins with the urgent departure of William Cluett (along with his wife and six of seven children) from England with creditors on his heels. Along the way fortunes are won and lost. Oddly coincidental, both sides of Cluett’s family thrived independently in the burgeoning textile industry— one side of the family in upstate New York, the other in North Carolina.

The history of the last century of America is drawn through the lives of the Cluetts and Moreheads (the maternal side of the family). The family’s influence cut wide swathes through the industry, politics and social strata of the era. Ambition, tenacity, tragedy, compassion and grudges carve deep lines into the story. Above all else the family endures.

At times Cluett’s characters wander through luxurious stately homes and noisy bustling factories. Summers are spent by the seaside waited upon by a discreet phalanx of household staff. When fortunes turn, the family must adjust—or not—to changed circumstances.

On this level The Gold of Troy is a riveting read—understanding on a personal plane how events shape and form who we are and how we view our place in the world. Yet this is but one thin facet of this enchanting book.

Cluett’s greatest achievement is peeling back the veneer of the characters who populate this book (and his life): his parents, grandparents and extended family. In doing so he reveals proclivities, inclinations, aspirations, triumphs and failures. He is unblinkingly, perhaps recklessly, honest in his portrayal. It likely came at a personal cost to the author, yet it is through his unvarnished and detailed accounts that the essential humanity of his characters emerge off the page.

What becomes apparent to the reader is that Cluett is not just telling his story, but ours as well. His characters transcend their circumstances and become context for our own stories. Cluett nudges us to examine our own families and connections in order to better understand who we are and why we do what we do. He is a skilled and talented storyteller with a knack for binding the reader to the page.

But in the end it is his honesty and regard for the reader that makes The Gold of Troy less an account of his family but the story of our families—of our lives.

In an age when many of us have known little hardship or catastrophe it is easy to be seduced, and eventually convinced, of the notion that we have figured things out. That we are smarter and cleverer than our own nature. The Gold of Troy is an antidote to that elixir.

Cluett’s story reminds us that we are, in a larger measure than we care to admit, the product of those who came before us. We delude ourselves, during peaceful and orderly times, into thinking our species is in charge—that we’ve mastered the levers of human existence and are now guiding it to our own purpose.

It is, of course, merely our perception that has changed. Our lives continue to follow a path shaped ultimately by the world around us. How our ancestors managed through upheaval and hard times is a tremendously important indicator of our own family’s ability to endure. The strength and durability of our ancestors will surely be called upon again.

Near the end of the book Cluett self-deprecatingly notes that he could go on for another 120 pages before heading to a conclusion. I wish he had. I felt deprived of the opportunity to spend more time with the characters in his story. I had gotten to know them—and I wasn’t yet ready to say good bye.

Robert Cluett now lives in Prince Edward County with many of his family around him. The Gold of Troy was published in 2002 by Printcraft in Picton.

rick@wellingtontimes.ca